The Mystery of the Boule Cabinet - Part 49
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Part 49

Grady sprang to his feet, his eyes blazing, and strode toward G.o.dfrey.

"What do you mean by that?" he shouted.

"I mean," said G.o.dfrey, looking him squarely in the eye, "that Mr.

Shearrow and myself had a talk with the mayor this morning, and laid before him certain evidence in our possession--this latest case among others--and that your resignation was accepted at noon to-day."

"My resignation!" snorted Grady. "I never wrote one!"

"Tell the public that, if you want to," retorted G.o.dfrey coldly.

"That's your affair. You ought to have 'phoned it in when I told you to. Now, Simmonds."

Grady stood glaring about him an instant, like an enraged bull, and I half expected him to hurl himself on G.o.dfrey; instead, he crushed his hat upon his head, strode to the door, jerked it open, and banged it behind him.

"Now, Simmonds," G.o.dfrey repeated, as the echo died away, and Simmonds came forward and signed. I witnessed the signatures, and G.o.dfrey, with more eagerness than he had shown in the whole affair, caught up the paper and sprang with it to the door.

"Get that down to the office, as quick as you can," he said, to a man outside. "I'll 'phone instructions. That," he added, closing the door and turning back to us, "is my reward for all this--or, rather, the _Record's_ reward. And now, gentlemen, Mr. Shearrow has his car below, and I think we would better drive around to some safe-deposit box with this plunder."

It was perhaps ten days afterwards that G.o.dfrey dropped in to see me one evening. I was just back from a week on Cape Cod, which had done me a world of good; and, I need hardly say, was glad to see him.

"You're looking normal again," he said, surveying me, as he sat down. "I was worried about you for a while."

"I never felt better. I told you that all I needed was to have that mystery solved."

"And it was solved on schedule time, wasn't it," he smiled; "though not quite in the way I had antic.i.p.ated. Do you know, Lester," he added, "I am going to claim that cabinet."

"On what grounds?" I demanded.

"Because the man who owned it gave it to me," and he got a paper out of his pocket-book and handed it across to me.

I opened it and recognised the delicate and feminine writing which I had seen once before.

"_My dear sir_ [the letter ran]:

"I find that I made the mistake of underestimating you, and I present you my sincere apologies. I trust that, at some future time, it may be my privilege to be again engaged with you--the result is certain to be most interesting. But at present I find that I must return to Europe by _La Bretagne_; since, after the trouble I have taken, it is impossible that I should consent to part with the brilliants of His Highness the Grand Duke. As a slight souvenir of my high regard, I trust you will be willing to accept the cabinet Boule, which I am certain that good M.

Lester will surrender to you if you will show to him this letter.

The cabinet is not only interesting in itself, but will be doubly so to you because of the part it has played in our little comedy.

And I should like to know that it adorns a corner of your home.

"Till we meet again, dear sir, believe me

"Your sincere admirer,

"CROCHARD, L'Invincible!"

"He's a good sport, isn't he?" asked G.o.dfrey, as I silently handed the letter back to him. "What do you say about the cabinet?"

"I suppose there is no doubt that Crochard bought it," I said.

"So that it is mine now?"

"Yes; but I'm going to solicit a bribe."

"Go ahead and solicit it."

"I want a souvenir, too," I said. "I'd like awfully well to have that letter--besides," I added, "it will be a kind of receipt, you know, if anybody ever questions my giving you the cabinet."

G.o.dfrey laughed and threw the letter across the table to me.

"It's yours," he said. "And I'll send for the cabinet to-morrow. I suppose it is still at the station?"

"Yes; I haven't had time to put in a claim for it. But, G.o.dfrey," I added, "when did _La Bretagne_ sail?"

"A week ago to-day. She is due at Havre in the morning."

"Did you warn them?"

"Warn them of what?"

"That Crochard is after the diamonds. They went back on _La Bretagne_, I suppose?"

"Yes--and Pigot went with them. So why should I warn any one? Surely they know that Crochard will get those diamonds if he can. It has become a sort of point of honour with him, I imagine. It is up to them to take care of them."

"That oughtn't to be difficult," I said. "The strong-room of a liner is about the safest place on earth."

"Yes," G.o.dfrey agreed, and blew a meditative ring toward the ceiling.

And presently he went away without saying anything more.

But the more I thought of it, the more the inflection he had given that word seemed an interrogation rather than an affirmation.

And when I opened my paper next morning, I more than half expected to be greeted with a black headline announcing the looting of the strong-room of _La Bretagne_. But there was no such headline, and with a sigh, half of relief and half of disappointment, I turned to the other news.

But two weeks later, a black headline _did_ catch my eye:

MICHAELOVITCH JEWELS FALSE!

FRENCH DETECTIVE TAKES BACK PASTE IMITATIONS FROM AMERICA.

Fraud Discovered When the Grand Duke Michael Sends them to a Jeweller to be Reset.

I had no need to read the article which followed, for I saw in a flash what had occurred. I saw, too, why Crochard had retained the paste jewels--he had a use for them! How or where the subst.i.tution had been made, I could only guess; but one thing was certain: the two weeks which had elapsed before the theft was discovered had given him ample opportunity to dispose of his plunder. I felt sorry for the Grand Duke; sorrier still for that admirable M. Pigot; but, after all, one could not but admire the cleverness of the man who had despoiled them.

Who, I wondered, had bought the Mazarin? Surely there was a diamond most difficult to sell.

It could, of course, be cut up--- but that would be sacrilege!

That question was answered, before long, in an unexpected way--a way which filled many columns in the papers, which delighted the comedy-loving French, and which gave Crochard a unique advertis.e.m.e.nt.

One morning, in the personal column of _Le Matin_, appeared a notice, of which this is the English: