Problem at Pollensa Bay Page 11

  ‘You stand over there where you are and don’t move,’ said that gentleman.

  Among them, the men stripped the table and turned it upside down. Mr Pointz examined every inch of it. Then he transferred his attention to the chair on which Eve had been sitting and those on either side of her.

  The thoroughness of the search left nothing to be desired. The other four men joined in and the women also. Eve Leathern stood by the wall near the screen and laughed with intense enjoyment.

  Five minutes later Mr Pointz rose with a slight groan from his knees and dusted his trousers sadly. His pristine freshness was somewhat impaired.

  ‘Eve,’ he said. ‘I take off my hat to you. You’re the finest thing in jewel thieves I’ve ever come across. What you’ve done with that stone beats me. As far as I can see it must be in the room as it isn’t on you. I give you best.’

  ‘Are the stockings mine?’ demanded Eve.

  ‘They’re yours, young lady.’

  ‘Eve, my child, where can you have hidden it?’ demanded Mrs Rustington curiously.

  Eve pranced forward.

  ‘I’ll show you. You’ll all be just mad with yourselves.’

  She went across to the side table where the things from the dinner table had been roughly stacked. She picked up her little black evening bag—

  ‘Right under your eyes. Right …’

  Her voice, gay and triumphant, trailed off suddenly.

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Oh …’

  ‘What’s the matter, honey?’ said her father.

  Eve whispered: ‘It’s gone … it’s gone …’

  ‘What’s all this?’ asked Pointz, coming forward.

  Eve turned to him impetuously.

  ‘It was like this. This pochette of mine has a big paste stone in the middle of the clasp. It fell out last night and just when you were showing that diamond round I noticed that it was much the same size. And so I thought in the night what a good idea for a robbery it would be to wedge your diamond into the gap with a bit of plasticine. I felt sure nobody would ever spot it. That’s what I did tonight. First I dropped it—then went down after it with the bag in my hand, stuck it into the gap with a bit of plasticine which I had handy, put my bag on the table and went on pretending to look for the diamond. I thought it would be like the Purloined Letter—you know—lying there in full view under all your noses—and just looking like a common bit of rhinestone. And it was a good plan—none of you did notice.’

  ‘I wonder,’ said Mr Stein.

  ‘What did you say?’

  Mr Pointz took the bag, looked at the empty hole with a fragment of plasticine still adhering to it and said slowly: ‘It may have fallen out. We’d better look again.’

  The search was repeated, but this time it was a curiously silent business. An atmosphere of tension pervaded the room.

  Finally everyone in turn gave it up. They stood looking at each other.

  ‘It’s not in this room,’ said Stein.

  ‘And nobody’s left the room,’ said Sir George significantly.

  There was a moment’s pause. Eve burst into tears.

  Her father patted her on the shoulder.

  ‘There, there,’ he said awkwardly.

  Sir George turned to Leo Stein.

  ‘Mr Stein,’ he said. ‘Just now you murmured something under your breath. When I asked you to repeat it, you said it was nothing. But as a matter of fact I heard what you said. Miss Eve had just said that none of us noticed the place where she had put the diamond. The words you murmured were: “I wonder.” What we have to face is the probability that one person did notice—that that person is in this room now. I suggest that the only fair and honourable thing is for every one present to submit to a search. The diamond cannot have left the room.’

  When Sir George played the part of the old English gentleman, none could play it better. His voice rang with sincerity and indignation.

  ‘Bit unpleasant, all this,’ said Mr Pointz unhappily.

  ‘It’s all my fault,’ sobbed Eve. ‘I didn’t mean—’

  ‘Buck up, kiddo,’ said Mr Stein kindly. ‘Nobody’s blaming you.’

  Mr Leathern said in his slow pedantic manner:

  ‘Why, certainly, I think that Sir George’s suggestion will meet with the fullest approval from all of us. It does from me.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Evan Llewellyn.

  Mrs Rustington looked at Lady Marroway who nodded a brief assent. The two of them went back behind the screen and the sobbing Eve accompanied them.

  A waiter knocked on the door and was told to go away.

  Five minutes later eight people looked at each other incredulously.

  The Morning Star had vanished into space …

  Mr Parker Pyne looked thoughtfully at the dark agitated face of the young man opposite him.

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You’re Welsh, Mr Llewellyn.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with it?’

  Mr Parker Pyne waved a large, well-cared-for hand.

  ‘Nothing at all, I admit. I am interested in the classification of emotional reactions as exemplified by certain racial types. That is all. Let us return to the consideration of your particular problem.’

  ‘I don’t really know why I came to you,’ said Evan Llewellyn. His hands twitched nervously, and his dark face had a haggard look. He did not look at Mr Parker Pyne and that gentleman’s scrutiny seemed to make him uncomfortable. ‘I don’t know why I came to you,’ he repeated. ‘But where the Hell can I go? And what the Hell can I do? It’s the powerlessness of not being able to do anything at all that gets me … I saw your advertisement and I remembered that a chap had once spoken of you and said that you got results … And—well—I came! I suppose I was a fool. It’s the sort of position nobody can do anything about.’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Mr Parker Pyne. ‘I am the proper person to come to. I am a specialist in unhappiness. This business has obviously caused you a good deal of pain. You are sure the facts are exactly as you have told me?’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve left out anything. Pointz brought out the diamond and passed it around—that wretched American child stuck it on her ridiculous bag and when we came to look at the bag, the diamond was gone. It wasn’t on anyone—old Pointz himself even was searched—he suggested it himself—and I’ll swear it was nowhere in that room! And nobody left the room—’

  ‘No waiters, for instance?’ suggested Mr Parker Pyne.

  Llewellyn shook his head.

  ‘They went out before the girl began messing about with the diamond, and afterwards Pointz locked the door so as to keep them out. No, it lies between one of us.’

  ‘It would certainly seem so,’ said Mr Parker Pyne thoughtfully.

  ‘That damned evening paper,’ said Evan Llewellyn bitterly. ‘I saw it come into their minds—that that was the only way—’

  ‘Just tell me again exactly what occurred.’

  ‘It was perfectly simple. I threw open the window, whistled to the man, threw down a copper and he tossed me up the paper. And there it is, you see—the only possible way the diamond could have left the room—thrown by me to an accomplice waiting in the street below.’

  ‘Not the only possible way,’ said Mr Parker Pyne.

  ‘What other way can you suggest?’

  ‘If you didn’t throw it out, there must have been some other way.’

  ‘Oh, I see. I hoped you meant something more definite than that. Well, I can only say that I didn’t throw it out. I can’t expect you to believe me—or anyone else.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I believe you,’ said Mr Parker Pyne.

  ‘You do? Why?’

  ‘Not a criminal type,’ said Mr Parker Pyne. ‘Not, that is, the particular criminal type that steals jewellery. There are crimes, of course, that you might commit—but we won’t enter into that subject. At any rate I do not see you as the purloiner of the Morning Star.’

  ‘Everyone else does though,’ said Llewellyn bitterly.r />
  ‘I see,’ said Mr Parker Pyne.

  ‘They looked at me in a queer sort of way at the time. Marroway picked up the paper and just glanced over at the window. He didn’t say anything. But Pointz cottoned on to it quick enough! I could see what they thought. There hasn’t been any open accusation, that’s the devil of it.’

  Mr Parker Pyne nodded sympathetically.

  ‘It is worse than that,’ he said.

  ‘Yes. It’s just suspicion. I’ve had a fellow round asking questions—routine inquiries, he called it. One of the new dress-shirted lot of police, I suppose. Very tactful—nothing at all hinted. Just interested in the fact that I’d been hard up and was suddenly cutting a bit of a splash.’

  ‘And were you?’

  ‘Yes—some luck with a horse or two. Unluckily my bets were made on the course—there’s nothing to show that that’s how the money came in. They can’t disprove it, of course—but that’s just the sort of easy lie a fellow would invent if he didn’t want to show where the money came from.’

  ‘I agree. Still they will have to have a good deal more than that to go upon.’

  ‘Oh! I’m not afraid of actually being arrested and charged with the theft. In a way that would be easier—one would know, where one was. It’s the ghastly fact that all those people believe I took it.’

  ‘One person in particular?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘A suggestion—nothing more—’ Again Mr Parker Pyne waved his comfortable-looking hand. ‘There was one person in particular, wasn’t there? Shall we say Mrs Rustington?’

  Llewellyn’s dark face flushed.

  ‘Why pitch on her?’

  ‘Oh, my dear sir—there is obviously someone whose opinion matters to you greatly—probably a lady. What ladies were there? An American flapper? Lady Marroway? But you would probably rise not fall in Lady Marroway’s estimation if you had brought off such a coup. I know something of the lady. Clearly then, Mrs Rustington.’

  Llewellyn said with something of an effort,

  ‘She—she’s had rather an unfortunate experience. Her husband was a down and out rotter. It’s made her unwilling to trust anyone. She—if she thinks—’

  He found it difficult to go on.

  ‘Quite so,’ said Mr Parker Pyne. ‘I see the matter is important. It must be cleared up.’

  Evan gave a short laugh.

  ‘That’s easy to say.’

  ‘And quite easy to do,’ said Mr Parker Pyne.

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘Oh, yes—the problem is so clear cut. So many possibilities are ruled out. ‘The answer must really be extremely simple. Indeed already I have a kind of glimmering—’

  Llewellyn stared at him incredulously.

  Mr Parker Pyne drew a pad of paper towards him and picked up a pen.

  ‘Perhaps you would give me a brief description of the party.’

  ‘Haven’t I already done so?’

  ‘Their personal appearance—colour of hair and so on.’

  ‘But, Mr Parker Pyne, what can that have to do with it?’

  ‘A good deal, young man, a good deal. Classification and so on.’

  Somewhat unbelievingly, Evan described the personal appearance of the members of the yachting party.

  Mr Parker Pyne made a note or two, pushed away the pad and said:

  ‘Excellent. By the way, did you say a wine glass was broken?’

  Evan stared again.

  ‘Yes, it was knocked off the table and then it got stepped on.’

  ‘Nasty thing, splinters of glass,’ said Mr Parker Pyne. ‘Whose wine glass was it?’

  ‘I think it was the child’s—Eve.’

  ‘Ah!—and who sat next to her on that side?’

  ‘Sir George Marroway.’

  ‘You didn’t see which of them knocked it off the table?’

  ‘Afraid I didn’t. Does it matter?’

  ‘Not really. No. That was a superfluous question. Well’—he stood up—‘good morning, Mr Llewellyn. Will you call again in three days’ time? I think the whole thing will be quite satisfactorily cleared up by then.’

  ‘Are you joking, Mr Parker Pyne?’

  ‘I never joke on professional matters, my dear sir. It would occasion distrust in my clients. Shall we say Friday at eleven-thirty? Thank you.’

  Evan entered Mr Parker Pyne’s office on the Friday morning in a considerable turmoil. Hope and scepticism fought for mastery.

  Mr Parker Pyne rose to meet him with a beaming smile.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Llewellyn. Sit down. Have a cigarette?’

  Llewellyn waved aside the proffered box.

  ‘Well?’ he said.

  ‘Very well indeed,’ said Mr Parker Pyne. ‘The police arrested the gang last night.’

  ‘The gang? What gang?’

  ‘The Amalfi gang. I thought of them at once when you told me your story. I recognized their methods and once you had described the guests, well, there was no doubt at all in my mind.’

  ‘Who are the Amalfi gang?’

  ‘Father, son and daughter-in-law—that is if Pietro and Maria are really married—which some doubt.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘It’s quite simple. The name is Italian and no doubt the origin is Italian, but old Amalfi was born in America. His methods are usually the same. He impersonates a real business man, introduces himself to some prominent figure in the jewel business in some European country and then plays his little trick. In this case he was deliberately on the track of the Morning Star. Pointz’ idiosyncrasy was well known in the trade. Maria Amalfi played the part of his daughter (amazing creature, twenty-seven at least, and nearly always plays a part of sixteen).’

  ‘Not Eve!’ gasped Llewellyn.

  ‘Exactly. The third member of the gang got himself taken on as an extra waiter at the Royal George—it was holiday time, remember, and they would need extra staff. He may even have bribed a regular man to stay away. The scene is set. Eve challenges old Pointz and he takes on the bet. He passes round the diamond as he had done the night before. The waiters enter the room and Leathern retains the stone until they have left the room. When they do leave, the diamond leaves also, neatly attached with a morsel of chewing gum to the underside of the plate that Pietro bears away. So simple!’

  ‘But I saw it after that.’

  ‘No, no, you saw a paste replica, good enough to deceive a casual glance. Stein, you told me, hardly looked at it. Eve drops it, sweeps off a glass too and steps firmly on stone and glass together. Miraculous disappearance of diamond. Both Eve and Leathern can submit to as much searching as anyone pleases.’

  ‘Well—I’m—’ Evan shook his head, at a loss for words.

  ‘You say you recognized the gang from my description. Had they worked this trick before?’

  ‘Not exactly—but it was their kind of business. Naturally my attention was at once directed to the girl Eve.’

  ‘Why? I didn’t suspect her—nobody did. She seemed such a—such a child.’

  ‘That is the peculiar genius of Maria Amalfi. She is more like a child than any child could possibly be! And then the plasticine! This bet was supposed to have arisen quite spontaneously—yet the little lady had some plasticine with her all handy. That spoke of premeditation. My suspicions fastened on her at once.’

  Llewellyn rose to his feet.

  ‘Well, Mr Parker Pyne, I’m no end obliged to you.’

  ‘Classification,’ murmured Mr Parker Pyne. ‘The classification of criminal types—it interests me.’

  ‘You’ll let me know how much—er—’

  ‘My fee will be quite moderate,’ said Mr Parker Pyne. ‘It will not make too big a hole in the—er—horse racing profits. All the same, young man, I should, I think, leave the horses alone in future. Very uncertain animal, the horse.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ said Evan.

  He shook Mr Parker Pyne by the hand and strode from the office.

&
nbsp; He hailed a taxi and gave the address of Janet Rustington’s flat.

  He felt in a mood to carry all before him.

  The Love Detectives

  Little Mr Satterthwaite looked thoughtfully across at his host. The friendship between these two men was an odd one. The colonel was a simple country gentleman whose passion in life was sport. The few weeks that he spent perforce in London, he spent unwillingly. Mr Satterthwaite, on the other hand, was a town bird. He was an authority on French cooking, on ladies’ dress, and on all the latest scandals. His passion was observing human nature, and he was an expert in his own special line—that of an onlooker at life.

  It would seem, therefore, that he and Colonel Melrose would have little in common, for the colonel had no interest in his neighbours’ affairs and a horror of any kind of emotion. The two men were friends mainly because their fathers before them had been friends. Also they knew the same people and had reactionary views about nouveaux riches.

  It was about half past seven. The two men were sitting in the colonel’s comfortable study, and Melrose was describing a run of the previous winter with a keen hunting man’s enthusiasm. Mr Satterthwaite, whose knowledge of horses consisted chiefly of the time-honoured Sunday morning visit to the stables which still obtains in old-fashioned country houses, listened with his invariable politeness.

  The sharp ringing of the telephone interrupted Melrose. He crossed to the table and took up the receiver.

  ‘Hello, yes—Colonel Melrose speaking. What’s that?’ His whole demeanour altered—became stiff and official. It was the magistrate speaking now, not the sportsman.

  He listened for some moments, then said laconically, ‘Right, Curtis. I’ll be over at once.’ He replaced the receiver and turned to his guest. ‘Sir James Dwighton has been found in his library—murdered.’

  ‘What?’

  Mr Satterthwaite was startled—thrilled.

  ‘I must go over to Alderway at once. Care to come with me?’

  Mr Satterthwaite remembered that the colonel was chief constable of the county.

  ‘If I shan’t be in the way—’ He hesitated.

  ‘Not at all. That was Inspector Curtis telephoning. Good, honest fellow, but no brains. I’d be glad if you would come with me, Satterthwaite. I’ve got an idea this is going to turn out a nasty business.’