“The address is right enough,” Rason rapped out. “She’s probably waiting for us to call. She’s the coolest crook in London and then some. She never bothers to run away. I’ve been on her track a dozen times and she always manages so that you can’t prove anything. In a way, she’s a great woman.”
“That is not very consoling to one who looks like losing fifty thousand pounds as the result of her ingenuity,” said Behrein bitterly.
“We shall take the matter up, of course,” said Rason.
“Then perhaps I could help you,” said Behrein. “Chiefly by chance, I happen to know that this lady — if it be not absurd so to call her — borrowed money upon the security of pearls from a Mr. Jabez Crewde. I’m quite sure of my facts. Mr. Crewde underpays his staff, and... er—”
“Quite so,” said Rason.
“I was at his house in Islington half an hour ago,” continued Behrein. “I asked, with all civility I hope, to be allowed to look at the pearls. He received my request very ill-temperedly and refused it.”
Detective-Inspector Rason made a note.
“Did you tell him your suspicion?”
“I would have explained had he given me time,” said Behrein. “As it was, I was being shown out of the place before I could explain anything.
“I have here,” continued Behrein, “photographs of the pearls, together with an expert description. If you have means of forcing Mr. Crewde, these papers will dispose of any doubt.”
“Of course, we could get a search-warrant if necessary,” said Rason. “But we always avoid unpleasantness of that kind if we possibly can. I think it very likely that I could persuade Mr. Crewde to show me the pearls of his own accord.”
“Would it be possible for me to accompany you?” asked Behrein. “I could tell at a glance.”
The detective agreed to this readily enough, and in half an hour Behrein was again at the house in Islington, this time accompanied by Rason.
When Jabez Crewde found himself confronted with a police officer, he “saw the light” and made no further bones about producing the pearls.
He laid them out on the table, but before he had finished, Behrein intervened.
“These are my pearls, Mr. Crewde,” he said. “I could produce a round dozen experts at an hour’s notice to identify them. If you care to peruse these documents, you will be satisfied yourself. I... I am very sorry for you.”
“Your pearls! What the dickens do you mean?”
Behrein re-told the story of the substitution of the pearls. The end of the story left Crewde babbling incoherently.
“Given that Mr. Behrein can substantiate his account,” said Rason, “he will be able to obtain the pearls from you by an order of the Court, as they are stolen goods. Do you wish to take the matter up on your own account, Mr. Crewde?”
“Yes, of course I’ll take it up!” snapped Crewde. “No, I can’t afford to pay a lot of thieving lawyers. It’s a matter for the Public Prosecutor. I’ll give evidence if you’ll pay me for my time.”
“I take it, Mr. Behrein, that you will prosecute,” suggested Rason.
“I have no alternative,” replied Behrein. “If you will tell me how to proceed—”
Rason was about to speak, and checked himself.
“If I were you,” he said instead, “I’d proceed very carefully, Mr. Behrein. It looks a clear-cut case. But there have been one or two cases before against this particular lady that have looked just as clear-cut. If you like to charge her, of course I must take the charge, but I suggest that you wait till I’ve seen her.”
Mr. Behrein bowed.
“As you please,” he said. “You understand these things and I don’t. I would like to have a private word with Mr. Crewde if he will allow me.”
“Right!” said Rason. “I’ll get along to Miss Dove.”
“It looks,” said Mr. Behrein when the detective had left, “as though you and I, Mr. Crewde, are going to be let in for a great deal of expense and a great deal of wasted time. Are you at all willing to discuss an arrangement?”
“What arrangement can we make?” demanded Crewde. “You are on velvet. I’ve lent five thousand pounds on those pearls. You can get them from me for nothing by an order of the Court.”
“Well, Mr. Crewde,” said Behrein indulgently, “I feel that we business men must hang together when we’re up against this kind of thing. I have no desire to stand on my rights at your expense. I’ll be frank with you. I have a prospective purchaser for those pearls and time is of the utmost importance. If they are going to be held up three months as exhibits in a trial — to say nothing of a civil action between you and me, which I would profoundly regret — I shall lose my customer. I think... well, now, I won’t beat about the bush — I am content to carry the five thousand loss. If you like to hand those pearls to me, I’ll give you a proper receipt and five thousand pounds and take my risk of getting my money back.”
Jabez Crewde could scarcely believe his ears.
“Eh? What’s that? Haven’t quite got you,” he muttered, and Behrein repeated his offer.
“Of course,” said Behrein laboriously, “you will lose your profit on the transaction — but you will have lost that in any case — together with your principal of five thousand pounds. As you admit, I can get the pearls returned to me by an order of the Court. I had hoped that you would accept my offer—”
“I do accept it,” said Crewde in haste.
Behrein took out his wallet. “One has to carry large sums about one in my trade,” he explained, and counted out five thousand pounds in notes.
He added a formal receipt for the pearls and left the meanest man in Europe trembling with relief at being spared the loss of five thousand pounds and the necessity of appearing in Court.
It was nearly lunch-time when Detective-Inspector Rason arrived at Fidelity’s house in Bayswater. Fidelity, exquisite in grey taffetas, asked him to stay to lunch. Politely, he declined.
“You constantly refuse my invitations, Mr. Rason,” she told him, her violet eyes clear and shining as a child’s. “And you cannot have come on duty this time.”
Rason made a grimace.
“I have come on a clear-cut case against you for jewel-robbery, Miss Dove,” he said. “But I’m old enough now not to attach too much importance to that fact.”
Fidelity’s smile was seraphic.
“All the same,” continued Rason, “I’m taking a pretty keen professional interest in this particular case. I’ve been trying to guess how you’re going to keep out of prison this time, and I’ll admit I’ve clean failed.”
“There is an elusive suggestion of flattery in your words, Mr. Rason,” reproved Fidelity. “And flattery falls strangely on my ears. Let me confess I cannot in the least understand what you are saying.”
“Yesterday morning,” said Rason, with a sigh, “you pledged with Mr. Jabez Crewde pearls which on Monday you are alleged to have stolen by means of substituting false ones from a Mr. Abraham Behrein. Mr. Behrein has photographs of the pearls and expert descriptions. They have been identified as the pearls you pledged with Mr. Crewde.”
“Mr. — what is the name of the other gentleman — Berlein?”
“Behrein,” said Rason. “Are you going to deny knowledge of him, Miss Dove?”
“Yes,” said Fidelity. The word had all the sanctity of a vow.
For a moment there was silence. A look almost of fear flashed into Rason’s eyes.
“May I use your telephone?” he asked.
Fidelity’s little bow gave consent. Rason fluttered the leaves of the telephone book, looked for Behrein, and could not find him. He rang up the Holborn police.
He gave particulars of himself, and then:
“Abraham Behrein,” he said, and gave the address in Hatton Garden. “Send a man at once to verify name and address. ’Phone me here.” There followed Fidelity’s number.