Shayne asked moodily, “Couldn’t those two stones-the eight-and-a-half-and eleven-carat stones-have been cut down to make two of the rubies in the Dustin bracelet?”
Randolph pursed his lips and looked doubtful. “It’s possible, but certainly not probable. Remember, Voorland sold the stones originally. It would be mighty hard to cut them so he wouldn’t still recognize them in reduced size.”
“Is there any way to check the sources from which he acquired the stones in the bracelet?”
“I’m afraid not. That sort of information is regarded as a trade secret. In some cases a particular stone can be traced to its original source, but most dealers don’t keep a record of such transactions.”
“Why not?”
“For various reasons.” Randolph again pressed the finger tips of his hands together, and continued thoughtfully: “Customs duties are high. Suppose Voorland announced in Burma that he had acquired a perfect star ruby for a large price. He would then have to declare it to get it into this country where it could be sold.”
“Do you mean to say Voorland smuggles such stuff in?”
“Not necessarily. Someone else may smuggle them in. Let’s say, rather, that Voorland is a business man. His store is one of the most successful in the world, I imagine. He does what every business man does these days-meets competition.”
Shayne grinned suddenly and said, “I guess a private dick doesn’t have so much to complain about, after all.”
“Right,” said Randolph with an answering smile. “But what Voorland does is considered no less ethical than for a stock market manipulator to beat down the price of a stock so he can buy low. Voorland is responsible to a board of directors who look only at the profit sheet each year. No matter what his personal ethics may be, to remain manager of that store he has to play the game according to the rules made by others. It’s a competitive and cut throat business.”
“But you still don’t think he’s capable of engineering a hold-up like that one tonight?”
“Walter Voorland?” Randolph’s voice was frankly incredulous. “Certainly not. Besides, what would it profit him? He, more than anyone else, knows how impossible it would be to realize a tenth of their value from the stolen rubies. He wouldn’t abet any finagling like that. Not with a star ruby. He takes personal pride in them. He would no more have a hand in anything like that than a father would arrange to have his own child kidnaped.”
“That has been done,” Shayne argued.
“For a profit, maybe. If a man were dead broke. Voorland is a rich man and there would be no profit in it for him. I don’t think you understand fully the way he feels about a star ruby. He hates to sell one.”
Shayne nodded and there was a wry grin on his gaunt face. “I noticed that he wasn’t putting any pressure on Dustin to buy last Monday when I happened to be in the store. In fact, he kept trying to slip the bracelet back into the vault and sell him something else.”
“That’s the way he is. He picks his buyers for a piece like that bracelet. I happen to know he refused to even show the piece to another prospective buyer less than a month ago.”
“Why?”
Randolph chuckled. “Because he has certain theories about the way gems should be regarded and treated. He wants them to be respected and enjoyed, worn and admired. He turned an Indian Rajah down cold when the poor devil had made a trip all the way from India just to bid on the bracelet. Voorland could have gotten a cool two hundred thousand if he’d been willing to let it go.”
“What did he have against the Rajah?” Shayne straightened in his chair and leaned forward, his eyes keen with interest.
“This one is reputed to be a jewel miser,” Randolph explained. “He has a huge collection in his palace which has never been seen by anyone. Voorland was actually rude to him and refused to show the bracelet to him because he didn’t want it buried in a private collection. The Rajah was naturally furious about the whole affair, but Voorland was adamant.”
“That,” said Shayne suddenly, “could explain where the other star rubies went-why they never turned up in legitimate channels again.”
“The Rajah?” Randolph asked dubiously. “I don’t see the connection.”
“This one, or any other private collector who hoards gems for his private pleasure,” said Shayne impatiently, “would be in the market for a star ruby whether it was stolen or not. He wouldn’t have to cut it up. He’d keep it whole and gloat over it.”
“That’s true. But there aren’t many collectors like that. Not many with a bankroll big enough and a conscience elastic enough to finance wholesale robberies-and murders.”
Shayne got up and paced excitedly up and down the room. “It’s an angle,” he argued. “Take this Rajah, for instance. No wonder he was sore that Voorland refused to sell to him. If he had kept track of the bracelet, knew when it was sold and to whom-”
“I wonder,” Randolph interrupted, as though he was beginning to get Shayne’s idea. “I wonder if he’s still in town.”
“He wouldn’t have to be,” Shayne pointed out. “All he would need to do is pass the word around that he was in the market for the bracelet when or if it went out of the store and became available. That would explain the planning and the swiftness of the snatch tonight.”
“How would they know who bought it?”
“Easy enough. How much do you think those store clerks earn in a year? A bribe could be easily managed.”
“By God, I believe you’ve got something, Mike.” Randolph was sitting erect, staring at Shayne as he paced the floor. “If we don’t hear from the thieves in a few days-”
“You won’t,” Shayne said strongly. “They’re not out for any lousy insurance reward of a few grand.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I can take a hint,” Shayne said grimly, fingering the bruise on his jaw where it contacted Blackie’s knucks. “What’s this Rajah’s name?”
“The Rajah of Hindupoor. He was at the Miami Waldorf a couple of weeks ago. I don’t know-”
“Why don’t you check up those other two thefts of star rubies and find out if the Rajah was hanging around when they were committed?”
Shayne was on his way to the door. He took his hat from the rack and Randolph asked, “Where are you going, Mike?”
“To the Miami Waldorf.” He jammed his hat on his head and pulled the brim low on his forehead. His eyes glinted hotly when he turned back to say, “I’ll let you know what I find out,” then went out the door.
Chapter Thirteen
Benjamin Corey,one of the assistant managers of the Miami Waldorf Hotel in Coral Gables, greeted Shayne cordially and took him into a private office. After the exchange of brief social formalities, Shayne asked, “How’s the traffic in visiting royalty these days?”
“We’ve got a Rajah right now.”
“Of Hindupoor?”
“That’s right.” Corey was a thin, immaculate young man with very bright blue eyes. They rested on the detective with alert interest.
“Nice guy?”
“He spends plenty of money.”
“Is he in now?”
“I can find out.” Corey reached for the telephone on his desk, but Shayne stopped him.
“Find out some other things while you’re about it, Ben. Whether he has been in all evening-any visitors-phone calls in and out. The works.”
Ben Corey hesitated. “Care to tell me why you’re interested, Mike?”
“I’d rather not.”
Corey nodded and got up. “This will take a little time.” He went out and Shayne leaned back to mentally check over a raft of hazy ideas he had accumulated while with Earl Randolph. They were all extremely hazy. That was the hell of it. Haziest of all was the motivation that had induced Mrs. Dustin to drug her husband at midnight and then call his apartment to arrange a secret meeting with Mr. X who impersonated him. That didn’t tie in at all with any of the other ideas he was beginning to formulate. It was the added unknown that made the equation unsolvable.