by Joan Smith
“We weren’t too worried about our neighbours, and we didn’t see any suspicious characters lurking about.”
“You’d not see them if they’re professionals.”
“As a matter of fact, the goods have been stolen, spirited away,” Luten said. “We have reason to believe the thieves’ informant was inside the house.”
He poured them both a glass of wine and they settled in for a long talk. He opened his budget and told Townsend everything — the actors rehearsing in his house, the theft of the auction donations, Corbett’s supposed murder.
Townsend sat, shaking his head in wonder. “I own I’m surprised at you, Luten, being such a gudgeon as to let strangers into your house — actors at that — when the place was holding more expensive gew-gaws than Carlton House.”
“It was foolish, but we had taken precautions.”
“A locked door never yet protected valuables. You’d ought to have spoke to me. I could have made some safe arrangement. Put them in the Tower of London, if necessary. Well now, the thing to do is find out who took them, get them back and lock the bounder up.”
“Within two days, when the auction occurs, and we hope to do it without the town knowing. I was hoping you might have some suggestions to offer in that respect.”
“I’ll run along and have a look at the corpse. I might recognize him. You’re right that he’s not one of the Maccles boys, but he might be mixed up with them. The hoist has the feel of a Maccles job. I’ll go have a word with Father. Between the carrot and the stick, I’ll get something out of him. I don’t know this Vance Corbett at all. He’s no one I’ve come across. I’ll toddle along now and call on you bright and early tomorrow.”
“There’ll be a handsome bonus if you get the goods back before the auction ball.”
“No need to say so, Luten. You’re always generous. I’ll say goodnight now. My compliments to your good lady.”
* * *
Chapter 18
Luten did not go to the House the next morning. Over breakfast he told Corinne about Townsend’s visit and that he would be coming back that morning, hoping to lift her spirits.
“Thank you, Luten,” she said with an attempt at a smile. “I truly do appreciate your help, though you might not think so from the way I’ve been crabbing lately. What time should we call the others in?”
“Townsend said he’d be here early.”
“I want to hear what he has to say. I’ll wait till he leaves to visit Miss Lipman.”
“Right. I’ll ask Evans to send a footman with the message for the others. Our best hope is that Townsend recognizes the corpse, knows what gang he comes from. He feels the Maccles are involved all right.”
“And even if it is the Maccles, we still won’t know where to find them,” she said with a weary sigh.
“Townsend will have a word with Father. If the dead man is connected with them, he seems to think he can persuade Father to talk.”
The other members of the Berkeley Brigade arrived within a quarter of an hour of being summoned. They had coffee in the rose salon while awaiting Townsend. Luten told them about his visit the night before. The Bow Street Officer himself was soon ushered in.
Five eager faces turned to him. After a special greeting for Lady Luten, he bowed to the others and took his seat. “Well now, you’ll be wondering what I’ve discovered,” he said. “It’s an odd mix of this and that.”
“Did you recognize the corpse?” Luten asked.
“I did, and it’s none of the Maccles gang. It’s a fellow known as Diamond Dan Dumbrille, a scoundrel I’ve been after these five years and more. He’s sly as a fox and slippery as an eel. It’s strange to think he was bested by an out-of-work actor. But I find it hard to believe he’d have had anything to do with the lot stolen from your library, Luten. He’s not into that sort of racket at all. Never been known to bother his head about a thing but jewels, and you tell me the jewels for the auction at least are safe in her ladyship’s safe.” He turned a questioning face to Corinne.
“Yes, I checked the safe after the robbery here. The jewelry is still here.”
“Thank the lord for small mercies. Well it’s odd, it is,” Townsend said with a frown. “Stealing big objects, pictures and silver and china is a completely different racket from lifting jewelry. The snatching, the hauling away and the re-selling requires a different setup entirely. More men and more work for less payback. The brighter sort of thief goes for the gems. Jewels are easy to nip off with and easy to fence. Now if it was Lady Clare’s diamond he’d got away with, I’d say Diamond Dan’s the fellow who robbed you here, but I can’t believe he’s turned ken smasher at his time of life. He does too well at his own trade. ‘Twould be like Shakespeare taking to writing broadsheets.”
Prance said, “Is it possible it was Lady Clare’s diamonds he was after, thinking they were here?”
“Not likely. Not likely at all. For one thing, he’d make sure he knew they were here before he came knocking, and for another, he’d not have come with a wagon and a crew to haul away the rest of the lot.”
They all listened in confusion. “But then: what was his connection with Corbett?” Luten asked.
“Ah, there’s the interesting bit.” He reached into his pocket. Like a magician pulling a rabbit from his hat, he produced a small, flat oval object, which he held up for their examination.
“My icon!” Prance cried. “It’s the little Russian icon I donated to the auction, Corinne. Where did you get it, Townsend?”
“From under Diamond Dan’s body, there on the sofa on Keeley Street,” he announced, and looked around to enjoy the stunned reaction to this discovery.
“I had a feeling it might be part of your stolen goods. I had a word with Lady Melbourne at a ball I was working the other night and she was boasting of the haul you were taking in for the auction. She mentioned the icon, along with other items.”
He turned a conning face on Corinne. “You really ought to have arranged for me to guard the auction ball, milady. You know I oversee all the better class of ball.”
“Have they not asked you yet? I thought Lady Melbourne had arranged it with you weeks ago. I’m not in charge of that, just the collection for the auction.”
“Lady Melbourne thought you or perhaps Mrs. Middleton were doing it. She felt there must have been some oversight and did ask me to attend in my official capacity, which I will certainly do, though the ladies have left it late to ask me. I usually require a few weeks’ notice with my busy schedule. However, for the orphans I’ll make an exception.”
“But about the icon,” Luten said impatiently. “What do you think, that it fell out of Diamond Dan’s pocket, or Corbett had it — what?”
“I went back there last night as you know. I was there when they removed the body, and this little picture was under it. According to Mr. Healey, who was the officer called to the scene, it must have fallen out of Diamond Dan’s pocket when he shifted the body. It wasn’t there on the sofa before he moved the body. Ergo, it fell out when he moved it.”
“But he searched the man’s pockets,” Black said.
“He searched for the pocket book and watch, both of which would be in the inner pocket. This, being larger, was no doubt in an outer pocket and Healey missed it. A shocking lapse on his part. It was stolen from the collection in your library, it was found at Corbett’s place with the corpse. Common sense says Dan is connected to your robbery. Common sense also says Diamond Dan would no more involve himself in a robbery like yours than he’d take up smuggling brandy. Frankly, gentlemen — and milady, we find ourselves at pointe non plus.”
“Does Diamond Dan work with someone we might speak to?” Luten asked.
“He works alone. No known associates. He’s a widower, has a young daughter. He used to work with a youngster some years ago, possibly the daughter. Her role was to throw herself in front of a carriage he planned to rob. He’d know in advance who was in that carriage and what jewelry she was wearing. The dri
ver and usually the occupant of the rig as well would go to see to the child. In the confusion they’d snatch the diamonds off the lady and take off. I’ve never heard of any connection between the Maccles and the Dumbrilles. Their lines of trade don’t overlap at all. They’d be no competition the one for the other, and no help. It’s odd, surely.”
Prance looked around to make sure they were all as confused as he was himself before speaking. “I can’t make heads or tails of this,” he said. “The deeper we get into it, the more confusing it becomes.”
“It’s like Algebra,” Coffen muttered. “X and Y should equal something, but they don’t.”
“I see your point,” Prance nodded. “They’re in the same equation, but we end up with another unknown.”
“Exactly. The more we learn, the less we know.”
“There is one point of contact,” Luten said. “The auction items include both artworks and jewelry.”
Townsend nodded his white head. “I considered that, but the only piece a fellow like Diamond Dan would be interested in is Lady Clare’s diamonds, and you may be sure he’d know whether they’d been delivered to your place before going after them.”
“So the upshot is, we have no idea who stole all those items that I was supposed to be keeping safe,” Corinne said, trying hard to control her tears. Then she turned to Townsend and said, “Is there anything at all you can think of to help us, Mr. Townsend?”
He reached out and patted her hands. “I’ll keep on the trail, milady. You might have a word with your Miss Lipman. I tried to see her this morning but they said she was too upset to see me. She seems to have been close to this Corbett. He might have let something slip to her. Or she might have walked out of here with the icon in her pocket — it’s small enough. But if she did, how did Diamond Dan come to have it? Did she give it to him? Did he get it from Corbett? Did she give it to her beau?” He tossed up his hands. “I don’t know.”
“If it’s a red herring, it’s a dashed sly one,” Coffen said.
“I’m going to see Miss Lipman this morning,” Corinne said.
“And I’ll make enquiries in various quarters,” Townsend said vaguely. “I’ll keep in touch, and if you find out anything from Miss Lipman, you’ll let me know.”
On this unsatisfactory note, he took his leave. Corinne rose reluctantly and said, “I’ll go to call on Miss Lipman now.”
“I’ll call on a few fellows who might know something about this Diamond Dan fellow,” Black said, also rising.
“I’ll tag along with you,” Coffen said.
“Might be best if I go alone, Mr. Pattle. These folks might be shy about talking in front of strangers.”
“If you say so. What about your rehearsals, Prance? It’s ten o’clock. Shouldn’t you be home?”
“Yes, I must leave. I told Soames to let them in and serve them coffee if I was a little late. I doubt they’ll be any help in all this but I’ll ask them if Corbett said anything to them. It’s all right to tell them about the murder, and Corbett’s having disappeared?”
“Might as well, eh Luten?” Coffen said. “They’ll know Corbett’s gone when he don’t turn up, and the murder will be in the journals.” Luten just nodded his agreement.
Soames handed Prance a note from Chloe when he arrived home. She said they had heard of Corbett’s murder from an actor friend and assumed Prance would not be rehearsing that day. She obviously meant the murder at Corbett’s house. She asked when would he like them to return. He wrote off an answer that he would let them know when he had found a replacement for Vance.
But really he wasn’t at all sure he would continue with the rehearsals. His heart was no longer in it. Vance, despite his uncertain temper and haughty behaviour, was all that made the rehearsals worthwhile. He would have to give Chloe and Sean some sort of bonus for turning them off so abruptly.
Corinne was allowed to have a word with Miss Lipman in her room, where she sat on a padded window-seat, looking out the window, dabbing at her tears.
“Oh milady!” she said, reaching out her hands as if asking for help. Corinne went to her, took her hands and sat down beside her on the window seat, “You’ve heard?”
“Indeed I have, Miss Lipman. That’s why I’m here.”
“So kind of you to come. What a tragedy! You can’t imagine how I felt when I walked into that room and saw dear Vance. And just when we were getting along so splendidly. I had invited him to the ball. He was having a new jacket made up especially. He was looking forward to it so.”
She shook her head and wiped away a tear. “He would have made an excellent husband. Sir Reginald practically promised that he would play Maldive when the play moved to Drury Lane. A successful actor is accepted in society nowadays. Look at Mrs. Siddons.”
Corinne stared at her in confusion. “But the body you saw was not Mr. Corbett,” she said.
Miss Lipman just stared at her for a long moment. “Not Vance? But how —” She gave a deep gasp and said, “Oh thank goodness. I heard a shot as I was approaching the house, I saw a body slumped over the sofa and just assumed – I ran for fear of my own life. But who was it? Who killed him? Why—”
“The victim was a jewel thief known as Diamond Dan. The police think Corbett killed him. He has run away in any case. You haven’t heard from him then?”
“No, I thought he was dead! I don’t believe Vance killed anyone!” she said at once. “He’s no murderer. Oh I know he seems proud, but it’s just that he’s unsure of himself. He’s sensitive. And now, when he’s been told he’ll get to play Maldive at Drury Lane? He’d never run away.”
“He might prefer it to prison,” Corinne said.
“Very likely, but I cannot believe he killed anyone.”
“Perhaps you’re right. We really don’t know what happened yet. There is one other thing, Miss Lipman. A Russian icon was found at Corbett’s house.”
“Like the one Sir Reginald donated?”
“That very one.”
“I remember it. A little oval painting of the Virgin Mary in a pretty gilt frame.”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“Why would anyone take that when there were so many nicer and more valuable things in the collection?”
Corinne reminded herself not to let Prance hear that! She said, “Perhaps because it was small and easy to slip into a pocket. We are trying to discover how it ended up at Corbett’s house.”
“I’m sure I don’t know, milady. It was in a silver bowl on the table where you had that tall silver candelabrum.”
“Do you think it possible Corbett might have slipped it in his pocket when he was in the library with you?”
“Oh never, milady. He was nowhere near that table. He didn’t even see it. In fact it was still there after he left that day. I remember looking at it and wondering how to describe it when I was writing the thank you note for Sir Reginald. The man who was shot at his house must have brought it with him. You said he was a thief. Though I can’t imagine why he took it to Vance.”
“It is certainly confusing. I shall repeat what I said yesterday, Miss Lipman. The robbery is still a very delicate matter. You mustn’t speak of it to anyone. Mr. Townsend is recovering the donations for us.”
“Of course.” She drew a deep sigh, then said, “With Vance missing, who can I take to the ball?”
“Perhaps Mrs. Middleton’s nephew?”
“Mr. Alton? He is not at all handsome, though I hear he has five thousand a year and a quite nice estate in the country. I’d best dry my tears and go to Mrs. Middleton’s now to work on those accounts. Mr. Alton won’t have left yet.”
After a little talk of this sort, Miss Lipman seemed to have recovered somewhat from the dreadful shock. Corinne concluded that her grief was at the loss of a potential husband rather than a man she was in love with.
Corinne hadn’t learned much. She didn’t think either Miss Lipman or Corbett had stolen the icon. Was it possible the icon was to be Corbett’s reward for helpi
ng Diamond Dan? But Townsend didn’t think Diamond Dan would steal anything but jewelry, so where had he got it? And if Diamond Dan had gone to Corbett’s house to kill him, why take the icon with him? Was it possible he had taken it on purpose to leave behind, to make it appear Corbett was the thief?
* * *
Chapter 19
When Corinne returned to Berkeley Square she heard female voices in the rose salon and felt a dreadful apprehension that the ladies from the Orphans’ Ball Committee had learned of the robbery. She asked Evans who had called on her and felt a wave of relief when he said, “It’s Miss Chalmers come to call on Mrs. Ballard, madam. Sir Reginald is not having a rehearsal this morning, and she was at loose ends. I believe Mrs. Ballard is lending her some knitting pattern.”
Corinne took the opportunity to see if Chloe could tell her anything about Vance. She found the two sitting before the fire, having a cup of tea and chatting like old friends. Mrs. Ballard looked happier than she had looked in years. And Chloe, outfitted in a plain round gown and simple bonnet looked much too young and innocent to be involved in anything criminal. She had asked to see the house because she was curious. It was probably the only mansion she had ever been in. Vance knew she spent time abovestairs with Mrs. Ballard and had quizzed her to add to his knowledge of the house.
“Oh, milady!” Mrs. Ballard said, jumping up in alarm, as if caught rifling the family safe. “Chloe just stopped by to get a pattern for a scarf she is knitting for her fiancé.” She held up the pattern as proof.
“Please, don’t get up,” Corinne said. “You know I am always urging you to entertain your friends here, Mrs. Ballard. This is your home too.” Then she turned to Chloe. “Miss Chalmers, you must be upset about what happened last night.”
“I was nearly paralyzed with shock, Lady Luten,” she said, her blue eyes wide with astonishment still. “Sean — my fiancé — and I heard about it this morning from an actor friend. We were told that it was Vance who was murdered. And when Sir Reginald mentioned in his note something about getting a replacement for Vance, I made sure he had been killed. But Mrs. Ballard tells me the body wasn’t his at all, and he has disappeared.”
