by John Creasey
“To steal a diamond which might not have been stolen,” murmured Mannering.
“It was stolen, from me,” said Dell. “Mr Mannering, I wish you could empty your mind of doubt. Such doubt is unworthy of you. It is orthodox, it is ordinary. It does not do you justice. You are wondering why I did not go to the police to report this robbery. There is a sufficient reason. I have told you that five people were here, as my guests. But I was not moved by any spirit of hospitality when I refrained from going to die police. Each guest was a relative of mine. Each has good reason to think that on my death he will be wealthy. One, only one, was guilty of the theft. I do not wish the others to suffer because of that one’s defection. I wrote to each of them, stating the facts simply, asking for the anonymous return of the pendant. My appeal failed. My second attempt failed. Now, I appeal to you to help. My confidence in your discretion is evident. I have made admissions to you which might be disastrous, but I believe you will treat them in confidence.”
Mannering said nothing.
After a slight pause Dell went on: “Diver received handsome payment, and is now on his way to London, I should explain that I asked a friend to recommend a cracksman of professional integrity, Diver came.”
“Meaning that you asked a fence to recommend a cracksman,” said Mannering.
“My dear sir!” Dell’s voice grew sharp. “Of course I have dealt with buyers of stolen goods. So have you. That does not mean that we have bought stolen goods. Jewels come on the market for many reasons, confidential sales are often made, jewellers of repute must keep in contact with the fences – but I am not talking to a child, Mr Mannering, I am talking to a man who knows the vagaries of the jewel trade as well as I do. Diver did his work well and has gone. He did me one service – he told me that when he entered the hotel he saw you. I have heard of you. I know your reputation. The chance of appealing to you for help filled me with renewed hope.” Dell spread his hands rather disarmingly. “The rest you know.”
“I should want more information,” said Mannering, his eyes avoiding Lorna, who sat remote and silent. “And time to think about it.”
Dell gave a small sigh. “Time is of more importance to me than money. Perhaps because I am likely to have less of it. What do you want to know?”
“How did four of the relatives come to be at the Royal at the same time?” demanded Mannering.
“I sent for them,” said Dell, simply. “I cracked the whip, and they came – or four of them came.” His expression softened and he smiled. “The fifth ignored the cracking of the whip, but when it suits him he will come – probably not to the Royal, but here. He will tell me what an old fool I am, but he will say it so nicely that I shall forgive him. He is the one man of the five who I am sure did not steal the pendant, and I am fond of him.”
“Can you be sure?”
“I am.”
“So the suspects are reduced to four,” said Mannering. “How did you crack the whip?”
“I told them I wished them to be at the Royal on a certain date, and the four, determined to ingratiate themselves, came promptly.”
“The guilty one bringing the pendant,” murmured Mannering. “Obliging of him.”
“Oh, yes,” said Dell, “the pendant came too. You see, I told them all that I would buy it for a ridiculous sum. Greed is the strongest emotion in any of them. All know that I suspect one of them, they all suspect one another. It is a pretty situation, Mr Mannering, and I had a certain grim delight in planning it. Now I want you to find out which one of them has it. And as an acknowledgement of your services—” he stood up, went to Lorna, and took the jewel case from her hands. He opened it, and laid it on her lap, the jewels sparkling and scintillating. “Those,” he said. “Will you help me, Mr Mannering?”
“You say it’s urgent,” said Mannering, slowly.
“It is most urgent,” Dell looked into Mannering’s eyes. “I am a very old man, and I am told that I am likely to die with little warning. Before that happens I want to know which of my family robbed me.”
Lorna said gently: “It might be better for you not to know.”
He turned towards her with a charming smile.
“You are thinking that it may be the favourite whom I mentioned? I have no fear of that, and in any case I want to know. I mean to know.”
“If you had gone to the police they would probably have found out for you, and put your mind at rest,” said Mannering.
“I believed at the time that I myself could find the thief. I know better now, but I cannot reasonably ask the police to investigate a crime so old. Those are the practical reasons against consulting the authorities. Now for the family ones – I do not wish the thief to be punished according to the criminal code. Omission from my will is punishment enough. To do that, I must know which of my sons has betrayed me.”
“Sons!” exclaimed Lorna.
“You see more clearly now why it is so important to me,” said Dell gently.
Chapter Five
Geoffrey Dell
The Daimler sped through the quiet night towards the sea front. The sky had cleared and the stars were shining brightly. From the hill they could see the still water and the high cliffs which rose on either side of Larmouth.
The driver pulled up outside the Royal.
Though it was after midnight, the entrance was still brightly illuminated. As the Mannerings stepped into the hall, they were surprised to see a throng of the hotel guests milling hither and thither, their manner gay and excited.
By the reception desk, leaning against it and writing, was a tall lean man dressed in an old mackintosh. He did not look as if the Royal was for him, nor he for the Royal, but as he put his pen down he turned to the hall porter, his voice easy and authoritative.
“What’s the celebration for, Sam?”
“A piece of very good news, Mr Dell.”
Lorna gripped Mannering’s arm.
“Indeed? Tell me more.”
“Well, sir, there was a burglary last night, a most serious matter—”
“And tonight all the plunder has been returned, I suppose?”
“As a matter of fact, it has, sir!” said Sam, and the smile became a beam.
“Good Lord!” Dell’s exclamation was both startled and disturbed. Nevertheless the recovery was quick.
“A thief with a conscience, Sam!”
“Or a frightened one, sir.
“You seem to know a depressing amount about human nature!” said Dell, smiling. “Are my brothers here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Quick work,” murmured Dell enigmatically.
He nodded and moved towards the lounge.
Mannering glanced at the open register as he obtained his key from the night porter, and saw that the last entry was Geoffrey Dell. His room appeared to be No. 27.
“Have you heard, sir?” The man asked eagerly.
“I’m just going to,” smiled Mannering.
Waiters were threading their way among the jostling crowd with the trolleys and Geoffrey was stalking one of them. On a table near the fireplace was a tray containing a collection of jewellery. Rings, brooches, earrings, pendants, were laid out in precise formation, giving off scintillating beams of light. Mannering saw the harassed look on Bristow’s face, and caught his eye. Bristow grimaced.
Mannering and Lorna sauntered over to Bristow’s side.
“They arrived at the station, in a small case,” said Bristow. “Ninety-seven articles were stolen, and ninety-seven came back. What have you been up to?”
“What should I have been up to?” asked Mannering innocently.
“I wonder,” said Bristow.
Lloyd called for order, and the business began. Bristow must have spent some time comparing the jewellery with the descriptions of the missing pieces, for he had a list of names and descriptions. At each name he called, he selected some piece of jewellery, and handed it over.
Geoffrey Dell, eating sandwiches at the far end of the room,
watched with cynical amusement.
Then Bristow called: “Mr and Mrs Matthew Dell,” and a couple who had been uneasily trying to catch Geoffrey’s attention came forward. Geoffrey Dell grinned broadly when he could no longer pretend not to see them. They joined him.
Soon Mannering saw three other men, whom he took to be Geoffrey’s remaining brothers, strolling towards the group. So intent were they on the family reunion that the final stages of the restoring of jewels passed unnoticed.
It was half-past one before the task was finished. The Dells, surprisingly different in looks, yet all carrying a strong family resemblance, left the room in a bunch.
“Interested in that family?” asked Bristow, in Mannering’s ear. “Relatives of your Montagu Dell, I suppose.”
“Probably.”
“Did you learn anything that can’t wait until the morning?” asked Bristow. “I don’t think I can stay awake another ten minutes.” He looked exhausted, his eyes glassy with fatigue.
“Montagu wanted to sell me some diamonds,” Mannering said. “I’ll tell you all about it in the morning, if you’re still interested. Congratulations on the early solution of your case!”
Bristow, smothering a yawn, said goodnight, and went off with unconcealed relief.
All were asleep very quickly; and nothing unusual happened during the night.
The question, said Mannering over morning tea, was how much of Montagu Dell’s story was to be believed. Part of it was undoubtedly true, or the brothers would not have been at the Royal.
“Matthew, Mark, Geoffrey, Charles and Thomas,” Mannering mused. “We’ll have to call them by their Christian names or we’ll never tell t’other from which. Geoffrey becomes automatically Jeff, I think.”
Lorna nodded.
“If we believe what the old man told us,” said Mannering, “we can still assume that there are things he didn’t tell us. His explanation of his use of Diver was plausible – just. So is the theory that he buys stolen jewels as a regular business, and that Diver knows it!”
“Which of his sons would be more likely to rob him do you think?” asked Lorna.
“Ah! If there’s a thief among the five, Jeff the Cynic is outwardly the most likely. Almost down at heel, no air of prosperity – but we mustn’t jump to conclusions,” added Mannering, virtuously, pouring out more tea.
“What are you going to do?” demanded Lorna.
Mannering paused to consider, then suggested mildly: “What about cultivating Jeff?”
“Well, what about it?” answered Lorna briskly. “He probably won’t be cultivated, and even if he will, who’s to do it?”
“That’s where you come in, my sweet, I detect in Jeff a roving eye! Like to take it on?”
“No,” said Lorna.
Yet she was laughing as he jumped out of bed to run the hot water, which at the Royal took several minutes before it could be said to live up to its name. That laughter was a good sign. He disliked her sombre moods, not because of them in themselves, but because he was the cause of them. She was only sombre when the Baron stopped being a memory and became a present entity to be reckoned with.
Geoffrey Dell was late down to breakfast; so were the Mannerings. The rest of the Dells had nearly finished. Jeff’s eyes flitted over his brothers and their wives indifferently, then settled on Lorna.
“What did I tell you?” Mannering murmured in her ear. “You’ve got him already.”
Long after his family had finished their breakfast and gone, Jeff sat on, slowly consuming toast and marmalade. He was still eating when a waiter came in with a message for Mannering. Could he spare Superintendent Bristow a few minutes?”
Mannering left the room hurriedly. He found Bristow, looking spruce and refreshed, waiting for him in the hall.
“Can you come to the police station with me for ten minutes?”
“So long as you don’t use handcuffs,” said Mannering, laughing. They sauntered out, down the drive and then along the short road which led to the High Street. Bristow talked.
“Did you know the jewels would be returned?”
“Leading question,” murmured Mannering.
“One to which I think you owe me an answer,” said Bristow. When Mannering kept silent, the Yard man added: “Did you give yourself a night’s excitement, set them all by the ears, then give the stuff back?”
“My dear Bill! Tempting though you make it sound, I must deny it absolutely.”
Bristow sent him a sidelong glance.
“All right. I’ll go back to the first question – did you know that the jewels would be returned?”
“Yes.”
Bristow waited.
“My Diver is your Edgy Low,” said Mannering.
“I know,” said Bristow. He was picked up at Waterloo off the night train. They’ve had to release him. How did you make Edgy return the stuff?”
“I didn’t. Either he was frightened by the great Bill Bristow, had a sudden attack of conscience, or received instructions. I don’t know which is the right answer, and don’t think it wise to guess. Forget it.”
“It’s not so easy to forget,” said Bristow.
He led the way into a private room of the police station, pulled out a chair, and offered Mannering a cigarette.
“I don’t know why you’re here, John, and I don’t see how I can stay any longer, but I want to warn you of one thing.”
“No warning is necessary,” said Mannering, “but speak on.”
“The local man, Kay, knows who you are.”
“So does everyone in the Royal.”
“I’m not thinking of John Mannering.”
“Oh,” said Mannering. His smile, when it came, was stiff and unamused. “So you’ve been confiding your old pipe-dreams to Kay, have you? When you die, Bill, writ large upon your heart will be: ‘John Mannering, Baron’.
“I don’t know what will be written on my heart,” said Bristow, “but I do know what’s written in my head, and so, now, does Kay. What happened at Dacres?”
Mannering chuckled. “Snap question number one! I saw Montagu Dell, an ancient eccentric, prepared to bribe me with diamonds.”
“For what?”
“My help. He has five sons – Matthew, Mark, Charles, Thomas and Geoffrey. He thinks one is unworthy of him, and wants to find out which. All strictly hush-hush.”
“Will you?”
“I might,” murmured Mannering.
“You’re not telling me the truth,” Bristow said sharply. “What did he really want?”
“I’ve told you.”
“You’d never work on a case as thin as that.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Life is dull. Even you, apparently, recognise the lure of excitement. Besides, I liked the diamonds, small certainly, but unusual and he won’t sell them.”
“You’ve made up your mind then?”
“Not entirely. You see I usually know the person I’m dealing with, but I don’t know Montagu Dell. That’s where you come in Bill. If he’s not on the blacklist I think I’ll have a shot at it, but if you tell me that he’s the kind of man nice people shouldn’t know, I’ll steer clear of him.” He beamed at Bristow. “Do you know much about him?”
“He’s lived here for forty years,” said Bristow slowly, “and the local people know nothing against him. When you named him last night, I put through a call to the Yard, but nothing is known about him there either, except—”
“Go on,” said Mannering.
“That he collects precious stones,” said Bristow, flatly. “He did mention that.”
“I thought he might have. It’s possible he knows as well as I do the fatal attraction precious stones have for you.”
“Such prescience will be my undoing,” murmured Mannering.
Bristow drummed on the desk with his fingers. “All right, if you take it that way, that’s your affair, but I don’t want to see you make a fool of yourself, and I think you’re crazy to work with or for Dell. I can’t give you fairer
warning. In London your meddlesome habits are known and more or less accepted, down here Kay will be thirsting to catch the Baron by the tail. You might let yourself in for a lot of unpleasantness. It isn’t worth it.”
Mannering rose from his chair. “Well, thanks Bill, for the good intention. I will be caution itself.” He waved an airy farewell.
Left alone in the office, Bristow felt, a little forlornly, that he had wasted his time. He was genuinely worried, and wished now that he had not confided in Kay. But he could not have guessed how the affair would end, his policy had been right at the time, wrong only in the light of events. He was uneasy, too. Mannering’s manner showed clearly that he knew more than he had admitted.
Bristow lit another cigarette, and went along to say goodbye to Kay.
Mannering strolled back to the hotel. The first people he saw, sitting in deckchairs on a small verandah were Lorna and Jeff Dell.
Chapter Six
Curious Behaviour
Gathered in a group in an alcove leading off the hall, were three of the Dell brothers and their wives.
Charles was speaking in the peremptory voice of an elder brother.
“It’s senseless to keep talking about it. If Jeff won’t come we can’t make him, and if Thomas isn’t here within two minutes, I’m going to start.”
“Five minutes delay won’t hurt,” urged Matthew.
“We shall be late as it is,” said Charles, “and we know how he hates unpunctuality.”
So the brothers had received a summons and were about to answer it.
Unnoticed, Mannering watched the belated arrival of Thomas, and presently the departure of the entire family, excluding Jeff.
Mannering went to the reception desk and asked the times of trains to Scotland. Waiting for them to be looked up he glanced, as if idly, through the register. Charles, Mark, Matthew and Thomas Dell had been given rooms from 41 to 44 on the second floor. Having jotted down the information asked for, Mannering next went up to the second floor, on which was his own room. Almost opposite Room 43 was a bathroom, and he stepped inside, leaving the door ajar.
