Shayne said, “I think all this brings us to you, Voorland.”
Timothy Rourke came alive with a start.
Voorland said, “To me? I do not see what-”
“To you and one more coincidence. This time, the case of the great ruby expert who gave me all the inside dope on the manufacture of synthetic gems without even mentioning the earliest experiments by a German chemist, and a man named Michaud. Remember those two gentlemen now, Voorland?”
Voorland appeared unperturbed. He fished out a stick of gum, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth before answering. After he methodically masticated it for a time he said, “Naturally I know about those experiments. But the Verneuil process-”
“Is the one in general use now,” Shayne said. “I know all about that. Yet, I wondered-”
Shayne suddenly turned away from Voorland and addressed the others. “You see,” he said, “we come back again to the curious fact that during the past several years Voorland has apparently succeeded in cornering the finest star rubies in the world. From the beginning, I toyed with the possibility of those gems being spurious.
“I know,” he went on wearily, as both Voorland and Randolph raised themselves partially from their chairs, “it simply can’t be done. And you, Randolph, appraised the ring purchased by King. Also, you appraised the Dustin bracelet, while another insurance man appraised the Kendrick pendant. Still-I wondered.”
Shayne hesitated for a moment. The lines of his gaunt face were drawn, his brows knitted, but his gray eyes gleamed.
“If they were artificial-if Voorland had actually discovered some secret process of manufacturing star rubies, I could see a profit in it for him. But I couldn’t see how that hooked up with their sudden theft and complete disappearance. Not until I read a few paragraphs in an old encyclopedia and found out about the earliest known process of making artificial rubies. They didn’t call those gems synthetic, but reconstructed gems. That’s because that is what they were. Reconstructed from a number of smaller stones. The reason that original process was discarded was two-fold: It was almost impossible to completely eradicate the faint lines of fissure where the smaller stones were joined, and they were very brittle and likely to burst asunder from interior pressure at any time.
“Then I began to see a possibility,” Shayne went on. He spoke rapidly, as though he wanted to get the thing over and done with, his eyes going over the group keenly. “Suppose Voorland, or someone else, took Michaud’s process of reconstructing rubies and actually utilized the lines of fissure to reproduce a star ruby? Take six small stones of uniform size and cut them in triangular shape. Then, under pressure and terrific heat fuse the six stones into one large one having the asterism that makes them so valuable, and also marks them as natural stones.”
Again Shayne paused to let his remarks sink in. “I began to see how even experts like Walter Voorland and Earl Randolph might be fooled by a job like that. Mental attitude counts for a lot in appraising jewelry. Ever since Verneuil began making synthetic rubies it has been an accepted credo in the trade that a star ruby must be cut from the natural stone.
“So, I began to see how such a manufactured or reconstructed gem might be foisted off as the real thing on some sucker like James T. King by a jeweler with Walter Voorland’s unblemished reputation.
“But think of the chance he takes. Suppose the brittle, reconstructed stone broke into pieces or blew up from internal tension. Then the truth would have to come out. Voorland would be ruined, his reputation shot to hell and gone. It didn’t seem to me that it was worth his taking such a chance, even if he had discovered such a process.”
The silence in the room was thick, the attitude of every man a study. Shayne’s eyes once again studied their faces. The atmosphere itself seemed supercharged.
“And that’s where the sudden losses come in,” he said.
“That’s the theory that explains why the rubies were stolen shortly after their purchase and never recovered. That way, Voorland could be safe from detection. All he had to do was to arrange a fast hold-up before the fraud was discovered, and have his purchaser fully covered by insurance in order that he wouldn’t lose very much, if anything. That explained a lot of things.”
“Do you honestly expect us to believe,” demanded Earl Randolph incredulously, “that all those star rubies were fakes?”
Shayne said, “I’m positive they were. The ring sold to King, the pendant bought by Kendrick, and the bracelet stolen from Dustin last night.”
“This is the most preposterous tissue of lies I ever heard,” said Voorland angrily. “There are such things as libel laws, Shayne. I’m a wealthy man. I’d be insane to attempt any such trickery.”
“I wonder if you are so wealthy,” Shayne said. “I know you don’t own much stock in the store you manage under your own name. You’re nothing more than a hired hand over there, and I’ve got a hunch you’ve eaten your heart out for years watching the huge profits go to the stockholders while you had to be content with a moderate salary.”
“Even if that were true,” the jeweler protested, “I’d be the biggest fool on earth to sell fakes like that and trust to luck to be able to arrange a successful hold-up soon enough to recover the gems before they were discovered.”
“He’s perfectly right, Shayne,” Peter Painter put in pompously. “He’d have no way of being sure a robbery would be successful. A hundred things could happen to circumvent it. The buyer might place the jewel in a safe deposit box immediately. He might leave the country the next day. Any thing at all might come up to interfere with such an absurd plan. He’d be a fool to trust to luck.”
“And Voorland is no fool,” Shayne agreed. “So, I don’t believe he trusted to luck. How much easier and surer to arrange with the buyers beforehand to pull their own fake robberies at once. Remember the King affair in Miami? It screamed ‘Fake’ through and through, but no one could pin it on King for lack of plausible motive. You told me that yourself, Randolph.”
“Sure. It stunk from the word go,” Randolph agreed. “But there wasn’t any proof and we couldn’t find any reason for him to have pulled the job.”
“Reason enough,” Shayne said, “if he knew the ring was a fake when he bought it, and had arranged to split the insurance rake-off with Voorland. Of course you couldn’t prove it, because the ring had disappeared. That’s why it disappeared.”
“This becomes more and more ridiculous all the time,” Voorland declared angrily. “I can’t believe you’re serious, Shayne. Why would wealthy men like King and the others enter into such a dangerous arrangement with me?”
“I don’t think any of them were wealthy.”
“Good heavens! A man who pays a cool hundred thousand for a ring certainly isn’t poor.”
“I don’t believe King paid you a hundred grand for the ring,” said Shayne relentlessly. “I don’t believe he paid you a damned cent. I believe you faked the sale-as you did the sales to Kendrick and Dustin each succeeding two years.”
Voorland stopped his frantic chewing to retort, “This gets more and more absurd. I realize that Mr. King had been poor until he inherited a fortune, but these others-Kendrick and Mr. Dustin-are both wealthy men. I’m positive the insurance company checked Kendrick’s background thoroughly, and I’m sure they will check Mr. Dustin’s before they allow his claim.”
“I’m quite sure they will,” Shayne agreed calmly, “and I know exactly what they’ll learn from Denver. I’ve had a detective working on that all morning. They’ll discover no one in Denver knew him or ever heard of him until he popped up there with a bride two years ago-a very short time after Mrs. Kendrick was murdered in New Orleans, and after Kendrick himself dropped out of sight.
“I haven’t yet mentioned the most remarkable coincidence,” he went on with a trace of weariness, “namely, the unnatural physical resemblance of all three ruby buyers-King, Kendrick, and Mark Dustin.
“I have descriptions of the three men here.” He took a typewritten sheet of paper from his pocket. “All are said to be between forty and fifty. All are about six feet tall. All had gray eyes. King’s hair was a faded gray at forty and he was thin and stooped from overwork and worry. Kendrick’s hair was red, and he held himself erect and was described as slender and well-knit. You can all see Dustin for yourselves.”
“But I, remember King quite well,” Earl Randolph protested. “He was worried-looking and stooped-” He paused and turned his protruding eyes on Mark Dustin.
“Four years ago,” Shayne reminded him. “Four years of wealth and good food, absence of worry, and a
