THE STAR OF DELHI
Maxwell Grant
CHAPTER I. THE SECRET SIX
'The Star of Delhi!'
The man who spoke the words pronounced them with a tone of awe, as well he might. Resting in the white plush of the opened jewel casket was a magnificent sapphire, the largest that he had ever seen.
It wasn't surprising that he recognized the gem, for it was Raymond Walder's business, as head of Walder Co, noted New York jewelers, to identify precious stones.
But he hadn't expected to find the Star of Delhi in the possession of Armand Lenfell. Though a financier, wealthy enough to buy the Star of Delhi many times over, Lenfell had never rated as a jewel fancier in Walder's opinion.
Hence Walder's thin features, usually drab and expressionless, were registering amazement. He looked toward Lenfell, saw a smile on the financier's broad, heavy-jowled face. Then Walder's eyes returned to the Star of Delhi, as though drawn by a magnet.
It was certainly a remarkable gem. Dome-shaped, its curved surface smooth, the Star of Delhi was large enough to fill the space between Walder's thumb and forefinger, had he placed them tip to tip. But color and size were not the features that gave the sapphire its fame.
Deep within the gem, Walder saw straight lines, streaks of light that radiated like the spokes of a wheel.
Those scintillating shafts were the marks of the true star sapphire, a much-prized type of gem.
His breath returning, Walder began to express congratulations. Lenfell cut him short with booming tone.
'Convince yourself, Walder!' he said. 'Make sure that this is actually the Star of Delhi.'
Walder lifted the sapphire from its plush nest and calculated its weight. He produced a jeweler's glass and studied the gem through the magnifying lens. He held the Star to the light for a time, and finally returned it to the jewel case with a satisfied nod.
Then, quite suddenly, Walder became nervous. He glanced at the windows of Lenfell's study as though wondering if the shades were fully drawn. He stared over his shoulder toward the door, which was closed. He even gave a doubtful glance at Lenfell's modern safe, which stood behind the desk.
Lenfell inserted an indulgent laugh.
'I know what worries you, Walder,' he said. 'There have been many jewel robberies lately. But that is no cause for alarm. No criminals know that I have the Star of Delhi; hence they will not come here to find it.'
Walder's eyes were still on the door. His face looked strained, for he was sure that he heard creeping footsteps in the hallway outside. He remembered his surprise when he arrived at the house a short while before, to find only one servant on the premises where usually there were many. Moreover, Walder recalled that Lenfell had promptly told the lone servant to take the evening off.
Yet the creeps from the hall were real! They had increased too noticeably, to be the product of Walder's imagination. Hoarsely, the jeweler began:
'Someone has entered the house, Lenfell -'
'I know it,' interrupted Lenfell. 'They are friends of mine. I want you to meet them, Walder. But first, you must prepare yourself for another surprise.'
Lenfell stepped to a corner of the room. From a closet, he brought out a long dark coat, which he put on.
Then, from a shelf, he produced a black hood that had two eye slits cut in it. Lenfell slid the hood over his head and peered through the slits.
Instead of the broad-faced financier, he had become an ominous figure from which Walder instinctively shrank. Then, feeling Lenfell's friendly clutch upon his arm, hearing the familiar voice from within the hood, Walder regained some of his composure.
'Come, Walder.' said Lenfell, his tone reduced to mildness. 'There is nothing to fear, I assure you.'
The jeweler gave a pinch-faced smile. He wasn't going to be frightened by a mere masquerade. Lenfell was his friend, and was merely taking Walder to meet others who wanted to see the Star of Delhi, for Lenfell had closed the jewel casket and was bringing it along. The friends were obviously in Lenfell's library, for the hooded financier was taking Walder in that direction.
Then, on the very threshold of the library, Walder gasped with horror and would have sagged to the floor if Lenfell's strong hand had not stayed him. Within the dimly lighted book-lined room, Walter saw Lenfell's friends. To a man, they were hooded like their host, and there were five of them!
With Lenfell, the group formed a secret six, as forbidding as a semicircle of inquisitors. Eyes glistening from hood slits, were fastened upon the slumping jeweler, as though accusing him, judging him, and condemning him, all on sight!
AIDING Walder to a chair, Lenfell placed the jewel casket on a table and opened it. Walder saw the gleam of the Star of Delhi, like a great blue eye, shining up to greet the strange band of hooded men.
Lenfell's voice, modulated to a kindly tone, gave Walder a vestige of relief, enough for him to glance upward. Then his courage returned. One man of the throng had unmasked: Lenfell. Sight of the financier's smiling face steeled Walder against the terror that his view of the rest produced.
'Be tranquil, Walder,' said Lenfell. 'I tried to ease the shock, by letting you see me in full regalia before meeting the rest. These men are friends, but of the group, I am the only who can unmask. I shall explain why.'
Walder listened. He was getting used to the eyes about him. No longer did he imagine that they glared.
They were becoming milder each time he studied them. All the while Lenfell's voice, easy but emphatic, was disclosing facts that Walder could comprehend.
'We are a syndicate of six,' Lenfell explained, 'who have contributed our wealth to buy gems from foreign refugees. Our purpose is to convert those jewels into cash, through private sales, giving unfortunate persons a fair return on the possessions that they are forced to sell.
'Of the six, I alone am known to the other five. Since they meet here in my house, I can unmask when occasion demands.'
Walder was nodding, actually smiling at the members of Lenfell's secret six.
'We have met with an obstacle,' proceeded Lenfell. 'There have been so many jewel robberies of late, that wealthy customers are doubtful of our bona fide gems when approached, confidentially, by my associates. Buyers fear that the refugee story is false; that we are trying to unload stolen gems.
'Since we must do something to prove our status, we have decided to cut the Star of Delhi, one of our most important purchases, into six parts. Each of us will wear a ring containing a star sapphire from the famous Star of Delhi. That fact, alone, will mark us men of integrity. However, we do not care to take such a step without proper advice. We are asking yours, Walder.'
Drawing himself together, Walder looked about the group; then stared at the Star of Delhi. He shuddered, not through a return of terror, but at the thought of cutting such a rare gem into smaller ones.
Then, slowly, a canny look spread over Walder's features. His business sense outmatched his love of gems.
'The Star of Delhi is unique,' conceded Walder. 'It might be worth half a million dollars, to the proper buyer. But I doubt that you could find anyone nowadays who would pay more than a mere fraction of that sum.
'Cut into smaller stones' - he eyed the great gem appraisingly - 'each a perfect star sapphire in its own right, the Star of Delhi would be more salable. Each of the six rings would be worth at least fifty thousand dollars to its owner. There is merit in your plan, Lenfell.'
Buzzes came from five hooded men; all those buzzes were approving. Lenfell heard them and took the murmurs as a vote in the affirmative. He simply said:
'We shall have the stone cut.'
