its way about the neighborhood. By dusk half of London will know of the theft.”
“Surely you exaggerate, Mr. Holmes.”
“Not at all, Mr. Herbert. Had you consulted me first I would have told you to pretend nothing was amiss. I could not have promised anything, but there might have been a chance, albeit a slight one. Now, however, if the thief is one of your household—the likely case—that person has his guard up.”
Herbert’s dismay was apparent. “I only thought...”
“You did not think, sir—that has been your problem all along, but we shall have to do the best we can. I am not hopeful. I believe you said you purchased the necklace five years go? Yes, then it could have been stolen almost any time. Where was it kept?”
Herbert raised his hand. “Behind the picture there.”
Holmes grasped the pastoral landscape with cows by the frame and set it on the floor. “Yes, the safe is, at least, a decent one.” He put an ear next to it and turned the knob. “In good working order. You have, I trust, committed the combination to memory.”
Herbert’s looked to the floor, then out the window. “Not quite.”
Holmes ran his hand across his forehead and into his oily black hair. “I suppose you have it written on a piece of paper. And where is this piece of paper kept?”
“Locked away, Mr. Holmes—locked away in my desk drawer there.” Herbert seemed pleased with himself.
Holmes’ gray eyes shifted to the desk, and he struggled, visibly, with his temper. “In the desk. A child could pick that lock, Mr. Herbert—a child could force the drawer open. What is the point of buying an expensive, well- made safe if you leave the combination lying about? Why did you not just leave the necklace in the drawer along with a note saying, ‘Please steal me?’”
Herbert said nothing, but his eyes glistened.
Holmes sat down, withdrawing his cigarette case from his pocket. “May I smoke?” He withdrew a cigarette, and then lit it, his fingers quivering. “I am tired, Mr. Herbert, and already... rather frustrated. As you may have deduced from my dress, I have not been home since the party last night.”
“That wretched party. I wish I had never gone. I am ruined.”
” Holmes inhaled deeply on the cigarette. “Surely not, although you have lost a good sum of money. About a hundred thousand pounds, I’d wager.”
Herbert groaned, then nodded.
“Good Lord,” I murmured.
“But you still have your business and your home. You are not the first man to be robbed, nor the last. You are still a wealthy man.”
“It was much of my fortune, Mr. Holmes. Twenty years work gone down the drain.”
“Tell me, who officially knew—besides yourself—that the necklace was kept in the safe there?”
“My wife, of course, and Firth, our butler.” The old man wearily raised his head; he seemed even more heartsick than his master. “No one else really.”
“Who took the necklace from the safe when it was to be worn?”
“I did—oh, and Mrs. Dalton. I would take it from the safe and give it to her. She took it to my wife and helped her put it on.”
“Did she watch as you opened the safe?”
“No, no—she waited outside the door.”
“But could she have seen you with the key to the desk in your hand?”
“Possibly.”
Holmes closed his eyes briefly. He walked to the fireplace and flicked off an enormous ash from his cigarette into the grate. “I shall want to speak with her.”
“She was with my wife. You must have seen her as you were coming in. She has been with our household for over twenty years. I trust her completely. An amiable woman who reminds me of my old nanny.”
“All the same, I shall want to talk to her—now, if that is convenient.”
“Firth, could you fetch Mrs. Dalton?”
The butler slowly stood. “Very well, sir.” He remained bent over as he walked. Holmes waited until the old man had closed the door.
“Who runs your household, Mr. Herbert? I doubt your butler is up to the task anymore.”
“Emily has no head for figures, Mr. Holmes. Mrs. Dalton oversees the servants, the menus, our dealings with tradespeople, and the accounts. Firth used to do it, but as you noticed, he has declined over the years. I shall soon have to put a younger man in his place.”
Holmes took a final draw on his cigarette, then tossed the remnant into the fire. “I take it your wife is quite angry?”
“Furious, Mr. Holmes. Furious. I... Some day that tongue of hers will get her into trouble. I am a patient man, but I shan’t be vilified in my own home. She does not understand the benefits to us of mingling with the better classes. She forgets how little she had when we were married, what a good husband I have been, and how much she owes me.”
Holmes gave me a quick, ironic glance. “Women can be most ungrateful.”
“Mr. Herbert,” I said, “were you at the Paupers’ Ball at Lord Harrington’s?”
He nodded gravely. “I was. I’m not superstitious, but a man has to wonder. Harrington cut his throat, Jenkins gone mad. Perhaps this gypsy...”
“Who is Jenkins?” Holmes asked.
“Richard Jenkins. Made his fortune in steel, owned the biggest ironworks in London. He used to live not three houses away. Went completely crazy and had to be put away. I heard about it at my club. Emily knew his wife, a friend of Violet’s.”
The door swung open, and Firth let Mrs. Dalton in. She was still dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief. A stout woman, she wore the familiar white lacy cap and a white apron over her black dress. Her jaw was wide and permanently thrust forward, a dental defect that gave her the truculent look of a bulldog.
“Such a tragedy!” she exclaimed. “Such a tragedy.”
“Mrs. Dalton, I am Sherlock Holmes.”
“Oh yes, I have heard of you.”
He gestured with his long fingers at the false necklace. “What can you tell me about this?”
“Nothing, I fear.” Her face scrunched up, tears appearing in her eyes. “Except my poor master is heartbroken, and the mistress is very upset.”
“Yes, yes, Mrs. Dalton. But what do you think happened to the necklace?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, sir!”
“You know the household well. Whom might you suspect?”
“None of us, sir! Certainly not! Burglars it must have been, cracksmen. They must have come in late one night and opened the safe.”
“How would they have known about the safe?”
“They has their ways, Mr. Holmes. Some are fearsome clever.”
Holmes nodded. “No doubt. Mr. Herbert tells me you would take the necklace from the safe to his wife on those occasions when she wore it.”
“Not from the safe—no, sir—from Mr. Herbert. I don’t know nothing about the safe. I stayed outside. I wouldn’t want to accidentally see what I wasn’t meant to.”
“And you always took the necklace directly to your mistress?”
“Straight away—and clutched to my bosom. No one could take it from me.”
“And you put it around her neck yourself.”
“Oh, yes.” Her forehead became a mass of wrinkles. “Usually.”
“There was an exception?”
“Let me see now. Yes, when we had that maid a year back, Gwendolyn Harper, she was named. She was with us only a few months, before I sent her packing. You recall, Mr. Herbert, the business with her young man. Shameless, that.”
Holmes’ finger drummed impatiently at the table. “You were about to explain the exception.”
