Mrs Bevan’s return a few moments later with the news that her pendant had disappeared, confirmed the supposition that some professional thief must have been at work, and the police were at once communicated with. They were also strictly enjoined to keep the matter a profound secret, for various reasons.
But Mrs Bevan was too anxious to rely entirely upon the exertions of the regular force, hence her application to our firm and her urgent entreaty that I would act with the utmost despatch.
Soon after my client’s departure I sought an interview with Madame von Auerbach, but could glean very little useful information. The invitations had been sent out with great care, but their exclusiveness was negatived by the fact that they were all sent to So-and-so and friend. The position of those invited by name had been considered sufficient guarantee of the perfect suitability of the friends whom they might select to accompany them to the Embassy, and at least a score of people had been present of whom the hostess barely heard even their names.
Of course, no one could treat any single one of these individuals as suspects without some definite suspicion to work upon, and, unfortunately for our prospects of success, there was not the slightest ground for suspecting anyone in particular.
I was about to quit Madame von Auerbach’s house when a servant entered with a card upon a waiter, and upon hearing that the name inscribed thereon was that of one of the guests of the previous evening, I hastily decided to stay a little longer, and requested Madame von Auerbach to keep my vocation a secret from her visitor.
The next minute a most bewitching little woman was ushered into the room.
‘Oh, my dear madame!’ she exclaimed, with a charming foreign accent. ‘Such an unfortunate thing! I lost my beautiful diamond clasp last night. Have your servants seen anything of it?’
Madame von Auerbach turned pale, and I looked with augmented interest at the harbinger of this new development of the previous evening’s mystery. The depredations had evidently been on a large scale, and the depredators had shown remarkably good taste in the choice of their spoil. The latest victim was a French lady named Madame Duchesne, and she waxed eloquent in lamentations over her loss when it was shown to her how little hope there was of recovering her diamond clasp.
‘And do you know, I feel so terribly upset,’ was her pathetic protest, ‘that I would give anything not to have had to go on with my own garden party tomorrow. And I don’t like to say it, but it is a fact I also may have included the thief in my invitation, and it would be awful if more things were to be stolen. Whatever shall I do?’
As no practical advice seemed to be forthcoming, Madame Duchesne studied for a moment, and then announced her intention of employing a detective.
‘Not a real, horrid policeman,’ she averred, ‘but one of those extraordinary individuals who seem able to look through and through you, and who can find anything out. Private detectives, I think they call them.’
Madame von Auerbach looked up eagerly, but I gave her a warning glance which caused her to postpone the revelation of my identity which she had felt prompted to make.
‘Do you know any of these people?’ was the Frenchwoman’s appeal to me. ‘Can you help me to the address of one?’
‘There are several firms of private detectives in London, if we are to judge from their advertisements,’ I answered. ‘I have heard Messrs Bell and White, of Holborn, spoken of as fairly good, but, of course, there are plenty of others equally good, or probably better.’
‘Bell and White, Holborn. Yes, I will try them. Thank you so much for helping me. May I ask if you live in London?’
Seizing my cue, Madame von Auerbach promptly came to my assistance.
‘I am very angry with Miss Gresham,’ she averred. ‘Since she resigned her post as governess to the Duke of Solothurn’s children, she has hardly deigned to take any notice of the numerous friends she made in Germany. But I mean to make her stay a few days with me, now that she has come to see me.’
‘Then you must bring her with you to my garden party,’ said Madame Duchesne, and the invitation so cleverly angled for was accepted with a faint pretence of hesitation at the idea of inflicting myself upon the hospitality of a total stranger.
After Madame Duchesne’s departure I congratulated Madame von Auerbach very warmly upon her tact and presence of mind, and arranged to visit the garden party as her friend the next day.
In due course the interesting function was in full swing, and the fascinating hostess had quite a crowd of guests to look after. My guarantor had left me, at my own request, to my own devices. I wanted to look about me, and to note all that was going on, without being too much in evidence myself.
Presently Madame Duchesne approached me with a very mysterious air, and introduced a very handsome man to my notice. ‘Don’t be shocked,’ she whispered. ‘But this is the private detective, Mr Bell. I communicated with him at once after leaving Madame von Auerbach’s yesterday, and he is here to watch that no pickpocket secures booty here. Isn’t it too dreadful to have to take such precautions? I will never give another party in London!’
I responded to this confidential communication with due sympathy, and gravely acknowledged the attention my new companion bestowed upon me for a few moments. And I had need of my gravity and presence of mind. For the man introduced
