Page 95 of An Artful Dodge
He reached the bottom of the page and began a second without pause. A dip of the pen, scratch, scratch, scratch, another dip. All the while I sat in silence, though I itched to seize the first page and read it. When he reached the end of the second page, he set them side by side and reread them, crossing out a word, amending a line. Finally, he spun them toward me. “See if it’s the truth.”
I brought them closer to my side of the desk and began to read:
fraud at hatton garden
Who among us but a thief can tell a diamond from its false sister, paste?
No one, of course. This is what unscrupulous jewelers depend upon when defrauding a naïve customer who has entrusted them with precious keepsakes and heirlooms.
This newspaper has witnessed definitive and undeniable proof that three diamonds from an important family heirloom have been replaced with counterfeit gems at Simonson’s Jewelers in Hatton Garden.
The public should take note, for this is no small theft. The diamonds, each approximately one carat in weight, are estimated to be valued at over two hundred pounds. It is likely that in an effort to disguise them, they will immediately be cut into smaller stones, diminishing their overall value but making them easy to sell in the open market. They are likely gone forever—and were it not for the truth brought to this paper by a knowledgeable informant, the owner might never know.
The necklace, an heirloom worth well over two thousand pounds, was taken into custody by the jeweler for cleaning and repair, in preparation for its appearance at Lord Charleton’sGrand Ball next week. This ball has long been considered one of the most important events of the London Season, where two of Queen Victoria’s children shall be present.
It is the responsibility of the jeweler to safeguard all valuables from theft—whether it be a tradesman’s modest watch or a duchess’s tiara. Simonson’s makes a grand show of this: There are locks on each door, front and back, and a large black bulwark of a safe with a combination lock and impregnable hinges. It is nigh impossible that even the canniest, most practiced thief could enter unobserved and obtain access. Indeed, the obvious conclusion is that this theft must have been enacted with the knowledge and willful collaboration of, if not by, the jeweler himself.
Ever since the discovery of the mines at Kimberley in the southernmost regions of Africa, diamonds have been considered rare and precious stones, surpassing rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and pearls in value. However, by virtue of their luster and transparency, diamonds are easier to counterfeit than other stones.
The newspaper has received no comment from Simonson’s Jewelers.
I looked up in admiration at the cleverness and opaqueness of his sentences. Nowhere did it state outright that Simonson had perpetrated the fraud. “Strictly speaking, it’s true,” I said cautiously.
“Have you anything to add?” Mr. Fuller asked.
“You might want to say, ‘several diamonds,’” I said. “And two locks on the front and back doors, of the Yale variety, as well as the usual devices to prevent thievery, including mirrors and camlocks on the cases.”
His eyebrows rose, but he added those words. “Anything else?”
“No.”
He set it aside. “The story will be typeset this afternoon and will run in the morning.”
I rose. “We’ll go to the Yard as soon as my sister is free. We’ll try to be there by eleven o’clock tomorrow.”
“Begging your pardon.” Mr. Fuller’s eyes were narrowed. “I don’t mean to frighten you, but do you think Maggie will keep her word and let your sister go?”
My stomach plummeted, and I took reassurance from the thought I’d clung to for days now. “I don’t know what she’d gain by not.”
“True,” he conceded.
“She has my sister,” I said. “What choice did I have but to try?”
From the newspaper offices, I crossed Southwark Bridge and walked to the Elephant and Castle, for what might be the last time. I climbed the stairs to the goods room and pushed open the door. Five women stood there, women I didn’t recognize—Maggie was replacing us quickly, it seemed—and the room went silent as they stared at me. Yes, I had an ugly bruise on my face, but I doubted that was why.
“I need to talk to Maggie,” I said.
“Go on, girls,” she said, and they filed out, passing me with curious looks.
I closed the door and reached into my pocket for the cloth pouch. I spilled the three diamonds into my palm and showed her.
She stared for a moment, then her gaze flashed up to me. Her expression was furious, and her voice was a lash. “That was supposed to be tonight. You werenotsupposed to do this yourself!”
“Doing it my way, I didn’t have to kill anyone.” I placed the gems on the desk before her. “But it’s done, exactly as you would have wanted. The gems taken and the necklace put back in its box. It was already sealed with ribbon and wax, so as you said, it’s not likely it’ll be inspected again before it reaches the marquess. I left everything exactly as it was, down to the number that was at the top of the combination lock of the safe when we arrived—which was three.”
She withdrew a jeweler’s loupe from her pocket and rolled the diamonds toward her with the fingers of her good hand, taking them up one by one and peering at them. She set them down and nodded. “Now we need only wait for the story. I’ll send a letter. It may take a few days.”
“No, it won’t,” I said. “I put a letter to the marquess in the post this morning. He’ll retrieve the necklace when the shop opens, I imagine. Give him a day to find a jeweler to verify it. He’ll report it to the Yard, and the story should run by tomorrow. You’ll have the diamonds and the revenge, and I get my sister—immediately. You swore to me on your child’s grave, Maggie. The minute the story runs, you give me Sarah.” My hand clenched Amelia’s pistol, though I didn’t remove it. “And if you don’t, I go to the Yard and tell them everything. Don’t think I won’t.”
