Wiles of a Stranger by Joan Smith Read Free Book Online

retired from the social circle, and Mrs. Beaudel examined the cuticle of her right thumb with great interest. This done, she said, “Lud, how boring! Do you play cards, Miss Stacey?”
    “Let us have a hand of loo,” Lucien exclaimed with the keenest enthusiasm.
    The cards were brought out, and the three of us sat down to a session of cards. Mrs. Beaudel was petulant, and an indifferent player. Lucien was in alt, and the craftiest little fellow with the cardboards that you ever saw. I was observant, paying more heed to any conversation Mrs. Beaudel cared to make than to the game.
    After a short while, she threw down her hand of cards, in mid-game, and said, “This is boring. Charles,” she turned and called over her shoulder to her husband. “Why don’t you show us the jewel collection? Miss Stacey has not seen it. It will be more amusing than this. Would you not like to see the jewels, Miss Stacey? I’m sure you would.”
     “I would be very interested to see it,” I said promptly.
    “Do let us show her, Uncle,” Lucien added his entreaties.
    With a fond smile at his wife, Charles set aside his newspaper, removed his spectacles, arose and went for the key.
    Stella led the way to his study, where we waited for him. He went upstairs to get the key. Mrs. Beaudel, although she must have seen the treasures many times, was excited to see them again. They were kept in a heavy safe that sat on the floor behind Beaudel’s desk. It would have taken two burly men to remove it.
    The jewels were kept in a wooden chest, covered with brown leather. It was about fifteen inches long and nine wide, the same in depth. When it was opened, it was seen to have drawers, lined in dark yellow velvet, five in all, each shallow. The drawers held an assortment of gems, magnificent pieces of varied sorts. The loose diamonds were kept in the top drawer. There were too many to count—about a hundred, I guessed, varying in size from one carat to five. This would be what my father had seen. It would be from this bunch too that he was accused of having pilfered.
    I could profess no knowledgeable interest in the stones, but was allowed a good amateur’s enthusiasm. “How lovely! They must be very valuable!” I exclaimed.
    “If they were perfect stones, they would be worth a great deal. Indeed, you are looking at about five thousand pounds, Miss Stacey,” Beaudel told me.
    “Is it some of these the man tried to steal?” I asked guilelessly.
    “It was. He got away with eleven, but five were recovered. We made sure the other half-dozen would turn up in the toe of his boot, or in a pocket, but they were not found.”
    “He got rid of them when he heard the constable banging at his door,” Mrs. Beaudel surmised.
    “His room was searched carefully. They even looked on the ground beneath his window, but they were not found,” Beaudel said.
    “Maybe he swallowed them,” Lucien suggested.
    “I wouldn’t put it a bit past him,” she agreed.
    “How did he take them without being seen?” I asked, with idle-seeming interest.
    “He was light-fingered. I’ll say that for him. I did not hand the tray to him, or leave him alone for a minute,” Beaudel told me. “I daresay I glanced away for a second, and that must be when he slid them into his pocket. It is fortunate I counted them after he left. I don’t know how I came to do it either, for I had no reason to suspect him.”
    “Aunt Stella told you to,” Lucien reminded him.
    “No! I merely asked Charles if he had counted them,” she pointed out. “It looked to me as if the tray were less full than before. But let us see the real jewelry, dear,” she said to her husband. It was the first time I had heard her use any term of endearment. “The diamond necklace that belonged to that Italian queen...”
    Charles obediently shoved in the top drawer and opened the next, to lift up a glittering necklace of blue-white diamonds, made in an old-fashioned style, rather clumsy, with a great