The Case of Miss Elliott

by Baroness Orczy

  “I like to picture to myself that scene at Buckingham Palace,” continued the man in the corner, as his fingers toyed lovingly with a beautiful and brand-new bit of string. “Of course, I was not present actually, but I can see it all before me: the lights, the crowds, the pretty women, the glistening diamonds; then, in the midst of the chatter, a sudden silence fell as ‘Mrs Vanderdellen’ was announced.

  “All women turned to look at the beautiful American as she entered, because her dress – on this her first appearance at the English Court – was sure to be a vision of style and beauty. But for once nobody noticed the dress from Felix, nobody even gave a glance at the exquisitely lovely face of the wearer. Everyone’s eyes had fastened on one thing only, and everyone’s lips framed but one exclamation, and that an ‘Oh!’ half of amazement and half of awe.

  “For round her neck and upon her head Mrs Vanderdellen was wearing a gorgeously magnificent parure composed of black diamonds.”

  4

  “I don’t know how the case of Wilson v. Barnsdale was settled, for it never came into court. There were many people in London who owed the Wilsons an apology, and it is to be hoped that these were tendered in full.

  “As for Mrs Vanderdellen, she seemed quite unaware why her appearance at Their Majesties’ Court had caused quite so much sensation. No one, of course, broached the subject of the diamonds to her, and she no doubt attributed those significant ‘Oh’s’ to her own dazzling beauty.

  “The next day, however, Detective Marsh, of Scotland Yard, had a very difficult task before him. He had to go and ask a beautiful, rich, and refined woman how she happened to be in possession of stolen jewellery.

  “Luckily for Marsh, however, he had to deal with a woman who was also charming, and who met his polite enquiry with an equally pleasant reply:

  “‘My husband gave me the Black Diamonds,’ she said, ‘a year ago, on his return from Europe. I had them set in Vienna last spring, and wore them for the first time last night. Will you please tell me the reason of this strange enquiry?’

  “‘Your husband?’ echoed Marsh, ignoring her question, ‘Mr Vanderdellen?’

  “‘Oh yes,’ she replied sweetly, ‘I dare say you have never heard of him. His name is very well known in America, where they call him the “Petrol King”. One of his hobbies was the collection of gems, which he was very fond of seeing me wear, and he gave me some magnificent jewels. The Black Diamonds certainly are very handsome. May I now request you to tell me,’ she repeated, with a certain assumption of hauteur, ‘the reason of all these enquiries?’

  “‘The reason is simple enough, madam,’ replied the detective abruptly. ‘Those diamonds were the property of Her Majesty the Queen of “Bohemia”, and were stolen from Their Majesties’ residence, Eton Chase, Chislehurst, on the 5th of July last year.’

  “‘Stolen!’ she repeated, aghast and obviously incredulous.

  “‘Yes, stolen,’ said old Marsh. ‘I don’t wish to distress you unnecessarily, madam, but you will see how imperative it is that you should place me in immediate communication with Mr Vanderdellen, as an explanation from him has become necessary.’

  “‘Unfortunately, that is impossible,’ said Mrs Vanderdellen, who seemed under the spell of a strong emotion.

  “‘Impossible?’

  “‘Mr Vanderdellen has been dead just over a year. He died three days after his return to New York, and the Black Diamonds were the last present he ever made me.’

  “There was a pause after that. Marsh – experienced detective though he was – was literally at his wits’ ends what to do. He said afterwards that Mrs Vanderdellen, though very young and frivolous outwardly, seemed at the same time an exceedingly shrewd, far-seeing businesswoman. To begin with, she absolutely refused to have the matter hushed up, and to return the jewels until their rightful ownership had been properly proved.

  “‘It would be tantamount,’ she said, ‘to admitting that my husband had come by them unlawfully.’

  “At the same time she offered the princely reward of £10,000 to anyone who found the true solution of the mystery: for, mind you, the late Mr Vanderdellen sailed from Havre for New York on July the 8th, 1902, that is to say, three clear days after the theft of the diamonds from Eton Chase, and he presented his wife with the loose gems immediately on his arrival in New York. Three days after that he died.

  “It was difficult to suppose that Mr Vanderdellen purchased those diamonds not knowing that they must have been stolen, since directly after the burglary the English police telegraphed to all their Continental colleagues, and within four-and-twenty hours a description of the stolen jewels was circulated throughout Europe.

  “It was, to say the least of it, very strange that an experienced businessman and shrewd collector like Mr Vanderdellen should have purchased such priceless gems without making some enquiries as to their history, more especially as they must have been offered to him in a more or less ‘hole-in-the-corner’ way.

  “Still, Mrs Vanderdellen stuck to her guns, and refused to give up the jewels pending certain enquiries she wished to make. She declared that she wished to be sued for the diamonds in open court, charged with wilfully detaining stolen goods if necessary, for the more publicity was given to the whole affair the better she would like it, so firmly did she believe in her husband’s innocence.

  “The matter was indeed brought to the High Courts, and the sensational action brought against Mrs Vanderdellen by the representative of His Majesty the King of ‘Bohemia’ for the recovery of the Black Diamonds is, no doubt, still fresh in your memory.

  “No one was allowed to know what witnesses Mrs Vanderdellen would bring forward in her defence. She had engaged the services of Sir Arthur Inglewood, and of some of the most eminent counsel at the Bar. The court was packed with the most fashionable crowd ever seen inside the Law Courts; and both days that the action lasted Mrs Vanderdellen appeared in exquisite gowns and ideal hats.

  “The evidence for the Royal plaintiff was simple enough. It all went to prove that the very day after the burglary not a jeweller, pawnbroker, or diamond merchant throughout the whole of Europe could have failed to know that a unique parure of black diamonds had been stolen, and would probably be offered for sale. The Black Diamonds in themselves, and out of their setting, were absolutely unique, and if the late Mr Vanderdellen purchased them in Paris from some private individual, he must at least have very strongly suspected that they were stolen.

  “Throughout the whole of that first day Mrs Vanderdellen sat in court, absolutely calm and placid. She listened to the evidence, made little notes, and chatted with two or three American friends – elderly men – who were with her.

  “Then came the turn of the defence.

  “Everybody had expected something sensational, and listened more eagerly than ever as the name of Mr Albert V. B. Sedley was called. He was a tall, elderly man, the regular angular type of the American, with his nasal twang and reposeful manner.

  “His story was brief and simple. He was a great friend of the late Mr Vanderdellen, and had gone on a European tour with him in the early spring of 1902. They were together in Vienna in the month of March, staying at the Hotel Imperial, when one day Vanderdellen came to his room with a remarkable story.

  “‘He told me,’ continued Mr Albert V. B. Sedley, ‘that he had just purchased some very beautiful diamonds, which he meant to present to his wife on his return to New York. He would not tell me where he bought them, nor would he show them to me, but he spoke about the beauty and rarity of the stones, which were that rarest of all things, beautiful black diamonds.

  “‘As the whole story sounded to me a little bit queer and mysterious, I gave him a word of caution, but he was quite confident as to the integrity of the vendor of the jewels, since the latter had made a somewhat curious bargain. Vanderdellen was to have the diamonds in his keeping for three months without paying any money, merely giving a formal receipt for them; then, if after three months he was quite sati
sfied with his bargain, and there had been no suspicion or rumour of any kind that the diamonds were stolen, then only was the money, £500,000, to be paid.

  “‘Vanderdellen thought this very fair and above-board, and so it sounded to me. The only thing I didn’t like about it all was that the vendor had given what I thought was a false name and no address; the money was to be paid over to him in French notes when the three months had expired, at an hotel in Paris where Vanderdellen would be staying at the time, and where he would call for it.

  “‘I heard nothing more about the mysterious diamonds and their still more mysterious vendor,’ continued Mr Sedley, amidst intense excitement, ‘for Vanderdellen and I soon parted company after that, he going one way and I another. But at the beginning of July I met him in Paris, and on the 4th I dined with him at the Élysée Palace Hotel, where he was staying.

  “‘Mr Cornelius R. Shee was there too, and Vanderdellen related to him during dinner the history of his mysterious purchase of the Black Diamonds, adding that the vendor had called upon him that very day as arranged, and that he (Vanderdellen) had had no hesitation in handing him over the agreed price of £500,000, which he thought a very low one. Both Mr Shee and I agreed that the whole thing must have been clear and above-board, for jewels of such fabulous value could not have been stolen since last spring without the hue and cry being in every paper in Europe.

  “‘It is my opinion, therefore,’ said Mr Albert V. B. Sedley, at the conclusion of this remarkable evidence, ‘that Mr Vanderdellen bought those diamonds in perfect good faith. He would never have wittingly subjected his wife to the indignity of being seen in public with stolen jewels round her neck. If after 5th July he did happen to hear that a parure of black diamonds had been stolen in England at the date, he could not possibly think that there could be the slightest connection between these and those he had purchased more than three months ago.’

  “And, amidst indescribable excitement, Mr Albert V. B. Sedley stepped back into his place.

  “That he had spoken the truth from beginning to end no one could doubt for a single moment. His own social position, wealth, and important commercial reputation placed him above any suspicion of committing perjury, even for the sake of a dead friend. Moreover, the story told by Vanderdellen at the dinner in Paris was corroborated by Mr Cornelius R. Shee in every point.

  “But there! a dead man’s words are not evidence in a court of law. Unfortunately, Mr Vanderdellen had not shown the diamonds to his friends at the time. He had certainly drawn enormous sums of money from his bank about the end of June and beginning of July, amounting in all to just over a million sterling; and there was nothing to prove which special day he had paid away a sum of £500,000, whether before or after the burglary at Eton Chase.

  “He had made extensive purchases in Paris of pictures, furniture, and other works of art, all of priceless value, for the decoration of his new palace in Fifth Avenue, and no diary of private expenditure was produced in court. Mrs Vanderdellen herself had said that after her husband’s death, as all his affairs were in perfect order, she had destroyed his personal and private diaries.

  “Thus the counsel for the plaintiff was able to demolish the whole edifice of the defence bit by bit, for it rested on but very ephemeral foundations: a story related by a dead man.

  “Judgment was entered for the plaintiff, although everyone’s sympathy, including that of judge and of jury, was entirely for the defendant, who had so nobly determined to vindicate her husband’s reputation.

  “But Mrs Vanderdellen proved to the last that she was no ordinary everyday woman. She had kept one final sensation up her sleeve. Two days after she had legally been made to give up the Black Diamonds, she offered to purchase them back for £500,000. Her bid was accepted, and during last autumn, on the occasion of the last Royal visit to London and the consequent grand society functions, no one was more admired, more fêted and envied, than beautiful Mrs Vanderdellen as she entered a drawing-room exquisitely gowned, and adorned with the parure, of which an empress might have been proud.”

  The man in the corner had paused, and was idly tapping his fingers on the marble-topped table of the ABC shop.

  “It was a curious story, wasn’t it?” said the funny creature after a while. “More like a romance than a reality.”

  “It is absolutely bewildering,” I said.

  “What is your theory?” he asked.

  “What about?” I retorted.

  “Well, there are so many points, aren’t there, of which only one is quite clear, namely, that the parure of Black Diamonds disappeared from Eton Chase, Chislehurst, on 5th July 1902, and that the next time they were seen they were on the neck and head of Mrs Vanderdellen, the widow of one of the richest men of modern times, whilst the story of how her husband came by them was, to all intents and purposes, legally disbelieved.”

  “Then,” I argued, “the only logical conclusion to arrive at in all this is that the Black Diamonds, owned by His Majesty the King of ‘Bohemia’, were not unique, and that Mr Vanderdellen bought some duplicate ones.”

  “If you knew anything about diamonds,” he said irritably, “you would also know that your statement is an absurdity. There are no such things as ‘duplicate’ diamonds.”

  “Then what is the only logical conclusion to arrive at?” I retorted, for he had given up playing with the photos and was twisting and twining that bit of string as if his brain was contained inside it and he feared it might escape.

  “Well, to me,” he said, “the only logical conclusion of the affair is that the Black Diamonds which Mrs Vanderdellen wore were the only and original ones belonging to the Crown of ‘Bohemia’.”

  “Then you think that a man in Mr Vanderdellen’s position would have been fool enough to buy gems worth £500,000 at the very moment when there was a hue and cry for them all over Europe?”

  “No, I don’t,” he replied quietly.

  “But then –” I began.

  “No?” he repeated once again, as his long fingers completed knot number one in that eternal piece of string. “The Black Diamonds which Mrs Vanderdellen wore were bought by her husband in all good faith from the my sterious vendor in Vienna in March 1902.”

  “Impossible!” I retorted. “Her Majesty the Queen of ‘Bohemia’ wore them regularly during the months of May and June, and they were stolen from Eton Chase on July the 5th.”

  “Her Majesty the Queen of ‘Bohemia’ wore a parure of Black Diamonds during those months, and those certainly were stolen on July the 5th,” he said excitedly; “but what was there to prove that those were the genuine stones?”

  “Why! –” I ejaculated.

  “Point No. 2,” he said, jumping about like a monkey on a stick; “although Mr Wilson was acknowledged to be innocent of the theft of the diamonds, isn’t it strange that no one has ever been proved guilty of it?”

  “But I don’t understand –”

  “Yet it is simple as daylight. I maintain that His Majesty the King of ‘Bohemia’ being short, very short, of money, decided to sell the celebrated Black Diamonds; to avoid all risks the stones were taken out of their settings, and a trusted and secret emissary is then deputed to find a possible purchaser; his choice falls on the multimillionaire Vanderdellen, who is travelling in Europe, is a noted collector of rare jewellery, and has a beautiful young wife – three attributes, you see, which make him a very likely purchaser.

  “The emissary then seeks him out, and offers him the diamonds for sale. Mr Vanderdellen at first hesitates, wondering how such valuable gems had come in the vendor’s possession, but the bargain suggested by the latter – the three months during which the gems are to be held on trust by the purchaser – seems so fair and above-board, that Mr Vanderdellen’s objections fall to the ground; he accepts the bargain, and three months later completes the purchase.”

  “But I don’t understand,” I repeated again, more bewildered than before. “You say the King of ‘Bohemia’ sold the loose gems
originally to Mr Vanderdellen; then, what about the parure worn by the queen and offered for sale to Mr and Mrs Wilson? What about the theft at Eton Chase?”

  “Point No. 3,” he shrieked excitedly, as another series of complicated knots went to join its fellows. “I told you that the King of ‘Bohemia’ was very short of money, everyone knows that. He sells the Black Diamonds to Mr Vanderdellen, but before he does it, he causes duplicates of them to be made, but this time in exquisite, beautiful, perfect Parisian imitation, and has these mounted into the original settings by some trusted man who, you may be sure, was well paid to hold his tongue. Then it is given out that the parure is for sale; a purchaser is found, and a few days later the false diamonds are stolen.”

  “By whom?”

  “By the King of ‘Bohemia’s’ valued and trusted friend, who has helped in the little piece of villainy throughout; it is he who drops a rope ladder through Her Majesty’s bedroom window on to the terrace below, and then hands the imitation parure to his Royal master, who sees to its complete destruction and disappearance. Then there is a hue and cry for the real stones, and after a year or so they are found on the person of a lady, who is legally forced to give them up. And thus His Majesty the King of ‘Bohemia’ got one solid million for the Black Diamonds, instead of half that sum, for if Mrs Vanderdellen had not purchased the jewels, someone else would have done so.”

  And he was gone, leaving me to gaze at the pictures of three lovely women, and wondering if indeed it was the Royal lady herself who could best solve the mystery of who stole the Black Diamonds.

  V

  The Murder of Miss Pebmarsh

  1

  “You must admit,” said the man in the corner to me one day, as I folded up and put aside my Daily Telegraph, which I had been reading with great care, “that it would be difficult to find a more interesting plot, or more thrilling situations, than occurred during the case of Miss Pamela Pebmarsh. As for downright cold-blooded villainy, commend me to some of the actors in that real drama.