THE SECRET OF DIAMONDS

This story deals with the unsettling nature of deception, when things are not quite what they seem.

“I tell you, my dear fellow, that this a most intriguing case and I will not, nay I cannot, let it pass without some consideration as to its merits for investigation. You state that it involves the theft of diamonds worth a king’s ransom and yet the said burglary has not been reported to the police. Most strange, don’t you think, sir?”

I have to admit that the whole affair was taking on an air of mystery, which certainly had caught my imagination and required further exploration. I am a private detective. I deal with matters which the civil authorities won’t touch or about which those involved don’t want them to know for reasons we often are not privy to.

“Who sent you here? And why?” I inquired. They were perfectly understandable questions which both needed a response if I was to agree to take the case. “I am bound to say that the sooner I get answers, I can then proceed, my good fellow.”

“It grieves me to say, that I am not at liberty to divulge the name of my patron. However, as to the reason for my being here, it is well known that you have a reputation for acting successfully upon matters which goes far and wide among my patron’s circle of associates. One of these gentlemen apprised him of your existence and so I am here at his bidding. And in case you are wondering, yes I am in his employ as his driver and handyman. At your service, sir.”

I now looked a bit more closely at the man who had turned up unannounced at my office. He was dressed in a tweed suit, and was holding in his right hand a bowler hat of the kind common among the tradespeople. His shoes which were made of brown leather had obviously been polished very thoroughly that very morning. He was a man of high standards who wished to represent his employer in the best possible light. He seemed therefore on this particular day somewhat distressed at the latter’s misfortune and wanted to be the instrument for resolving the unfortunate matter as speedily as possible.

“Your employer was wise to have sent you to me. However I must insist that he reveals himself to me in person, before I will consider taking on this case, which I must say could be a most apposite means to develop my skills of deduction. Tell your employer to arrive here at 10 am tomorrow without fail, and if he does so, he can be assured I will take the case. If he has a prior engagement, he must break it off without compunction or delay. Is that clear, my good man?”

“Crystal, sir.”

He then bade me farewell, turned on his heels, opened the front door and was gone within a minute. I sat down and contemplated the scene I had just witnessed. I savoured the anticipation of what tomorrow might bring . At last I could resume my work after an enforced interval of idleness, which was through no fault of my own, but that of my housekeeper, who had insisted I not venture out into the inclement weather but stay firmly behind closed doors simply because of a wretched cold which she described as bordering on influenza. I went to the mantelpiece and picked up my pipe. Having filled it with the finest tobacco that money could buy, I lit it and enjoyed the delights of a companionable smoke.

Such a pleasurable activity assists me to gather my thoughts into some kind of pattern which could be of a temporary nature, until facts altered its composition. I got up from my comfortable armchair, and started to pace up and down the room, occasionally stopping to pause and ruminate.

“Diamonds!” I muttered to myself. Then a question struck me. Why had they not been placed in a bank deposit box for safekeeping? Or was even that move too risky? I wondered what they were really worth. And to whom they belonged? Their owner might have wished to be discreet for a special reason, which was to remain forever undisclosed to the general public. Then this person would have to be of some significance or stature within the community. Speculation is a useless activity. Facts are what is needed. They would come hopefully the next day.

The rest of that day was uneventful. Miss West cooked me a delicious meal as always for which I expressed to her my deepest gratitude again as usual. In her inimitable way she just shrugged her shoulders as if to say that was the purpose of my employing her good services, and so there was no need for thanks, which seemed to her completely extraneous. She was a strange woman. In all the time she was with me, I could never completely fathom her out. She kept her counsel on most things. She was taciturn, to the point of almost being invisible. However, she did have another side to her. She was very protective of those she considered her own, and for some reason I was included in her entourage. If for example she heard about anyone deriding my integrity as a gentleman, she would be like a tigress with her cubs. She and I had what you might call an understanding, unspoken but always apparent, which could be described as an association, built up over many years, between two people - albeit, employer and employee - who had a mutual respect and appreciation for one another.

I will not recount about the activities of the rest of the day nor the night, because the routine was not broken by some unexpected event. I was waiting for the next morning, when I would know about my next assignment.

At precisely 10 am, the doorbell rang. Miss West was too quick for me and reached the front-door before I could get out of my customary position in the armchair. Upon opening the door and after introductions, when the arrival of a certain gentleman by the name of Sir Willoughby Cranford was announced, she withdrew, but not without giving the latter a somewhat suspicious look, as if to say: “Don’t mess with my employer. You will have me to answer for.”

By this time I was up and ready to receive the aforesaid gentleman. He was certainly dressed in a most dapper fashion, complete with white gloves which he exchanged from his right hand to his left, before greeting me as only befits the occasion in polite circles. I did however notice that his handshake was not as firm as it might be, due to a slight tremor, which he was attempting to conceal from me. I offered him a seat as well as a drink and a cigarette.

He accepted only the first. He was without a shadow of a doubt driven by some fearful anxiety, and did not know how to express what he wanted to relate to me, so that I could be in a position to comprehend the full import of the case, presented before me.

He cleared his throat, coughing into the handkerchief which he had drawn out of his breast pocket. At first I thought he would never be able to speak. His initial paroxysms of frequent retching became so intense that I was on the point of proferring him a glass of water.

He put a hand up, and gasped: “That won’t be necessary, my good man.” I watched as he gradually regained his composure with some considerable effort. From the time he had arrived, I noticed that he appeared to be a man of declining health, even though he was probably in his late fifties. He had left his cane with Miss West as well as his overcoat, and walking without assistance did not come easily to him, as he clearly demonstrated on entering my room.

“I have a matter to discuss with you of the utmost gravity, which must not on any account be divulged to anyone, let alone the police. Have I your word as a gentleman that you will never reveal the contents of our discourse to a living soul?”

I listened to him and was not taken aback by his words. I had been expecting this would be the tenor of his speech. However, I wanted to clarify that he understood the condition upon which I would take the case.

“My good sir, before I accede to your request, I must ask you whether you are indeed Sir Willoughby Cranford, and this nomenclature is not some invention of yours to conceal your true identity.”

I again looked him in the face to see a reaction, in order for me to assess the validity of his response. A man can say what he likes, but I am fairly confident of my ability to assess if truth is being uttered by the expression on the face of the speaker.

Sir Willoughby, if that was his name, rose up to his full height without leaving his seat. I had obviously angered him, questioning his honour and integrity.

“I came here in good faith, because I was assured you could help my colleague in a delicate matter which demanded discretion - nay, total secrecy. I was loath to admit it, since I did not want my own family name to be dragged into this mess and yet my driver told me you had insisted upon my not only appearing here at a certain hour but also revealing my true identity. I am tempted to say, sir, that you are a rogue and a cad, but since I do not know you nor your methods of investigation, of which many of my friends have spoken highly, I am at your mercy, damn you.”

I could see that the man was genuine, and sought to calm him - an action which took all my tact and patience to achieve. It was going to be a rugged path that together we were going to take. I was now all the more determined to solve this case for him, whatever it took to get to that point.

After a while, the gentleman was able to control himself and therefore begin the explanation as to why he was present that morning in my room. It was a truly strange tale he told. The first thing he said that although I had persuaded him to reveal his name to myself much against his will there was absolutely no chance that his friend’s identity would ever be revealed to me, and that I would have to be content with him being called Lord X. So with that suggestion of a name Sir Willoughby was admitting that this to me unknown personage might be a member of the nobility.

Sir Willoughby demanded that I swear on the Bible that I would never under any circumstances go to the police about this matter or any matter which might indirectly affect those involved, especially his noble friend. I was frankly so taken by the mysterious nature of what was unfolding before my very eyes that I readily acceded, not knowing to the slightest degree why I was being obliged to do so.

“I want you to be totally discreet in this affair. A life depends on it.”

I was beginning to understand how high the stakes were, but then he explained to me that we were involved in matters which were outside the law, as it stands today. Suddenly I realized why he had got me to swear an oath of secrecy. I was a gentleman who could not in all conscience divulge what I would come to know.

He therefore continued. “Lord X is one of my dearest friends, and so I was grieved to hear about his unfortunate predicament. Suffice to say that he and Lady X live separate lives to all intents and purposes. They have done so for many years now. She has a home up in the wilds of Scotland, and he resides at the family estate somewhere in the Home Counties. Neither has any interest in the other’s business, and has ensured that that remains the case. They have drawn a signed document between themselves to that effect, although because of the ad hoc nature of the arrangement it has no proper basis in law.

“That is not the cause of my friend’s distress. He is a member of a secret association whose members live out their lives away from the limelight, because they are aware that society, including the milieu, in which they would otherwise find a welcome position, would censure their behaviour and even their very existence to the point of betraying them to the law enforcement authorities. Even though I am not a member of this association, I am sympathetic to their plight, and so this is why I expect complete discretion on your part, sir.”

I told him that once I had made a promise I was not one to renege on it. I was a man who kept his word. He was relieved that I assured him of my probity. It certainly showed on his face, as he began to relax, and unfold his tale.

“As I said, Lord and Lady X live as though they do not exist to each other except for a piece of paper, indicating their marital status, and yet they live in complete ignorance of the other’s doings - which in the case of Lord X is just as well, because he is absolutely convinced that if Lady X knew about his relationship she would throw the proverbial book at him in a court of law and he would be a condemned man.”

I became increasingly intrigued as the story of their lives unfolded. Lord X’s relationship? What kind of relationship? Had this something to do with the diamonds in question? I suspected as much. I was about to discover it as Sir Willoughby continued.

“Now, sir, I wish to ask you a question which may seem indelicate to you, but it is necessary that I ask before we can proceed further. You no doubt will have heard of the notorious court case involving the famous playwright, Oswald Wilson, who hails from Scotland, I understand, and that as a result of his conviction, he now resides in Lincoln Goal.”

I told him that this court case had been the talk of the whole city of London, so no-one could have been ignorant of the contents of the charge, levelled against Mr Wilson, who despite the brilliant defence he put up was nevertheless sent down for a custodial sentence in the sure knowledge that his reputation was at that precise moment in tatters.

“So, Sir Willoughby, are you hinting to me that Lord X is in a similar situation to Mr Wilson but has no desire to be thus pilloried for the gratification of a hostile mob, which constitutes the majority of the general public?”

He nodded with relief.

“So, am I also to understand that Lord X has found himself trapped in a situation from which he cannot extricate himself?”

Sir Willoughby was inclined to reject such a suggestion but demurred, and explained that currently Lord X was involved with a certain individual, who had betrayed his trust, which he had freely given without qualification.

“Sir Willoughby, what do you mean by “involved with”? Was this a kind of amorous affair? I’m bound to say that this goes way beyond my own understanding of human intercourse. However, I am committed to my solemn oath which will never be broken. Upon that you can be absolutely assured.”

Even before Sir Willoughby explained more of the business, I resolved to remain firmly committed to the cause of finding a solution to the case.

“You, sir, are correct in your assumption about this affair. It is indeed one of the heart, and a strange one, when judged by the standards of our day which I personally am bound to say are narrow in their scope and therefore application. I am relieved that you are on board as it were with myself and Lord X in this most unfortunate tale of woe. The facts are these, as far as I can ascertain. Lord X met this young man at a cafe in Soho. The said young man was in fact one of the waiters at the establishment, of which I have since no recollection of the name. What I have seen of this youth is that he is of swarthy complexion, clean-shaven and exceptionally handsome, if not beautiful. He is extrovert in his manner - which can be a distinct disadvantage when it comes to the need for discretion. Frankly, I have no idea why Lord X, who is timid and softly spoken, should be attracted to this young man, who could spell danger for him, and in fact has already done so. After several clandestine encounters (some of which were spent overnight) with the latter at his somewhat dingy lodgings, Lord X took the initiative and invited the young man, whom we can call Paul, to his own home.”

I was concentrating on the details of this story and at times making notes on a pad of paper I had placed on the small table beside myself. I continued to listen to Sir Willoughby as he explained further why I was needed.

“I wish to tell you, sir, that Lord X’s residence is a particularly grand edifice set in grounds of quite considerable amount of acreage, and so this can be said to demonstrate that he is a man of substance. Before he arranged for his young lover to live with him in his home, Lord X summoned his entire staff to a special meeting in the ballroom, the only place large enough to hold everyone. He asked them whether they were happy to be in his employ. To a man and a woman, they all agreed that he was an employer for whom they were proud to work, because he was fair and generous. So he asked them if they would be willing to make a solemn oath for him not to divulge information to anyone beyond the boundary wall about any activity they might see in the house, especially since a new person was about to be added to the list of residents. He brought out a large Bible and offered them the chance to swear. He assured them that if they did so, they would be making him the happiest man in all England, if not the British Empire. And so all agreed, and the deed was done. He did not explain in detail about the young man, because he considered it would be superfluous to do so, and there might be some unnecessary misunderstanding about the nature of their relationship, which he did not wish to explain anyway.”

So far so good! Although I was moving in unfamiliar territory, I had made a vow to Sir Willoughby. I listened with increasing anticipation as to what evidence concerning the theft would be presented which would have a bearing on what I was being told.

“So Lord X was able to arrange for a hansom cab to pick up the said young man at dead of night when the lights were dimmed and few people would be venturing out onto the streets. The driver of the cab was in fact his own, and so he would be sworn to secrecy himself. So it was that Paul, taking a small holdall with his few belongings, left his lodgings for good without having paid his last month’s rent, because Lord X had told him not to arouse any suspicion from that quarter - in other words, from an over-inquisitive landlady, who for a consideration would be only too happy to report any unusual activity to the police. Paul hid silently as a mouse behind the black curtain as the cab clattered over the cobblestones of  the almost deserted, rainswept city-streets and then flew over the muddy country roads before coming to a complete standstill. Then he heard a familiar voice, welcoming him “home”, as a hand slid through to open the curtain, to reveal Lord X, smiling at his young lover.”

The story enthralled me in a way I had not expected and I made no comment or asked no question because I felt it would have been rude to intrude on Sir Willoughby’s account, which would be given time to reveal the purpose of my involvement.

“Now to cut a long story short, because, sir, I do not wish to take up more of your time than necessary, suffice it to say that during the next few months, the life spent between Lord X and his Paul was blissful and almost idyllic. Although they had had misgivings about the arrival of this young man, the staff never voiced them, nor was there any trace of gossip, which their employer could have suspected taking place among them. They were proving to be loyal and dependable. Then the fateful day came, when the diamonds vanished from the safe and at the same time Paul himself absented himself, and never returned. It was rumoured among the staff that there had been an argument between Lord X and his young friend. They now felt they could air their suspicions among themselves, but said nothing to his lordship, who only discovered later the import of the chatter. After a few days of trying to locate the whereabouts of the young man, in whom he had so foolishly confided, Lord X descended into a state of utter despair. What made things worse was the knowledge that he had told Paul about the family possessions which were kept locked up in a safe, located behind a certain picture in the billiard-room, and those heirlooms included a set of diamonds his grandfather had brought back from his time working in South African mines. Paul was clearly adept at breaking open safes and now Lord X was living with the consequence of his own naivety.”

So I was to be the one to locate the said youth along with the diamonds without involving the police for the sake of preserving the good name of Lord X (whoever that may be!). Sir Willoughby had not finished.

“About one month after the disappearance of the jewels, Lord X received an anonymous letter, stating he had to collect from his own bank account 1000 used banknotes of £500 each, totalling £500,000.  Then he had to place them in a black handbag in one of the waste bins in Regent’s Park. This would be done on a day within the next three and a certain time, which would be specified in another letter. If he did not comply with these instructions in detail, then the press would be contacted about his secret life. As you can imagine, sir, Lord X is at a loss what to do, and is terrified about the prospect of journalists, prying into what they consider every sordid detail of his nefarious existence as a pervert criminal. He has now received the second letter, stating the date, the time and the location of the delivery. It is tomorrow at 12 noon at the waste-bin nearest to the Albert Memorial - one which is in fact out of sight from public view. And since I believe I can trust you, I can also reveal to you the identity of Lord X. I am he.”

That was clearly the final touch of his evidence and I have to say that it did not come as a complete shock to me when he revealed his true identity. It helped to know that only two people were involved in the case, not three, although I was concerned about the anonymity of the two messages sent to Sir Willoughby. Was this indeed Paul who had sent these? Did he have the ability to compose such letters? I asked Sir Willoughby what his opinion was. He thought so but was unsure. I asked him also whether he thought Paul capable of blackmailing him and if so, what his motives might be. Again he thought so but was not sure. Perhaps someone had put him up to it. Sir Willoughby said he would not leave that morning until he could give me a definitive answer to both questions, because he knew they had a direct bearing on the case and would either hinder or assist in the resolution to the matter.

I looked at my new friend, and saw that in giving all his evidence he was now utterly exhausted and was in danger of a complete collapse. He needed a period of rest before he embarked on his return journey. I resolved that he stay for luncheon, and so called for Miss West.

“Sir Willoughby will be staying for luncheon today. I hope that doesn’t upset the applecart unduly, Miss West. You are so good at enlarging the feast to include unexpected guests.”

“I suppose I can just about squeeze one more in at the table.” She assumed the demeanour of someone in high dudgeon, as she returned to her domain of the kitchen, and I could hear the clatter of saucepans and cutlery, as she went about her business, obviously wanting to make a point that she was not entirely happy with the added burden of another mouth to feed but she knew she had no choice. I also knew that she was acting the part, as she often did for my benefit and amusement, although I would never have intimated these to her.

“Well, that is settled, Sir Willoughby. I should like to thank you for your honesty in recounting the matter from start to finish. It must have pained you to the utmost extent. My good man, you can rely on my discretion and with my help you will soon be able to find resolution in this case. I am going to suggest that after luncheon you stay here awhile and rest, while I look over some papers which are requiring my urgent attention on my desk. Then after an hour or two, you can return home. Are we agreed?”

He readily assented to this suggestion of mine.

“However, before we go any further, Sir Willoughby, I need to clarify one thing with you. Of course you don’t have £500,000, do you?”

He was aghast at the thought. He explained to me that in order to get anywhere near that figure he would have to sack all his staff and sell the family home.

“What about your friends and associates? Do you think they together could help you out with a temporary loan?”

He shook his head vigorously. Clearly then I realized that we would have to bluff this one out, by pretending we had the money and agreeing to arrive at the designated meeting-point at the arranged date and time. No return address had been given in order to reply, so it was assumed that Sir Willoughby would indeed acquiesce to the demand note and come to give the money.

Of course I would be there, hidden out of sight to see who would then pick up the bag from the wastebin, and rush the said individual with the skills I had perfected in my long association with the running track in my younger days. I was still capable of a fair burst of speed for a short distance, but after that I knew I could not maintain the momentum. I would need some valuable assistance from a couple of fellows who were in the trade of passing on information without asking questions - for a fee, of course. I knew just the two I needed.

I informed Sir Willoughby of my plan. He was slightly perturbed that I was involving two others in our plot, but I assured him that their lips were sealed by the money I would give them as recompense for their labours at apprehending the youth. I also told him that prior to our assignation with the latter, I would ask my two co-conspirators whether in their perambulations through the various watering holes they had heard anything about burglaries in the leafy suburbs committed by youths who had nothing better to do. I assured Sir Willoughby that that would be the extent of the information I would proffer to my associates, and they would be more than happy not to enquire further, since their obtaining the reward was dependent on their reticence.

After we ate an excellent luncheon, Sir Willoughby sank into a deep slumber on my sofa, as I perused my papers on my desk. At one time, I took out a blank sheet and wrote down some notes to help me make sense of the whole affair and decide how best to react to various situations which might arise.

POSTSCRIPT

I am sitting at my desk a few months after these events. I am exceedingly angry. I feel as though I have been led up the garden path. I have been hoodwinked by one trickster, possibly two, as I see it. There is nothing I can do about it, because of the oath I swore. As it has turned out, the diamonds never resurfaced. No trace was found. Sir Willoughby did not seem too concerned after all. And what about the young Paul? Well, it seems Sir Willoughby found him somewhere again in Soho, and invited him back to the family mansion to live with him there, but this time with not a single member of staff to disturb their peace. It seemed that Sir Willoughby had managed to condemn his former staff as well as myself to a perpetual silence about the whole affair. I have now begun to think that he had told me a pack of lies from start to finish. I am not even sure if the young man, Paul, exists, since I have no wish to visit Sir Willoughby in his mansion, and I only have his word which has been proved to be totally unreliable. I have to say that I am tempted to go on a trip to the Highlands of Scotland to see a certain lady. However, even she might be a figment of the imagination. So I am left floundering with uncertainty and doubt. Sir Willoughby did however pay me a small retainer as a mark of his profound gratitude for my keeping my side of the unholy bargain. I did not receive what I consider a fair remuneration for the efforts which I exerted on his behalf. I cannot go to court for obvious reasons, and so I have no means of forcing him to pay what is my due. As far as I am concerned, he and his ilk can all go to hell.

He has abused my services and also the good name of many sincere people, who are genuinely being harassed for who they are and who live in fear of being incarcerated for being who they are. I consider Sir Willoughby a menace to society, and am sorely tempted to go to the police. However, I am a gentleman. I am a man of integrity, and I cannot break an oath. Therefore, I do not wish this story to be published until after I am dead. That way, my conscience is clear.

EPILOGUE

It turns out that our detective failed to recognize the following equation:

Driver = Sir Willoughby = Paul.

The detective failed to notice that he had been confronted with a consummate actor who could disguise himself in many ways, and had used his skills not just on the stage but outside the theatre to confuse his audience, whoever that happened to be. It gave him an inordinate sense of delight to hoodwink the general public, whom he despised with a passion. No-one knew the reason, because no-one knew the real person. The detective was just one of many who had been duped and yet who would live never to divulge the secret of this deception to anyone. This detective did decide to write a statement to be read after his death, once his body was in

the ground and no-one could accuse him of any wrongdoing.