"Very well, then," he said. "Let me take your mind back to that same winter two years ago. Do you remember the extraordinary theft of a valuable collection of gems, the property of Sir James Narford?"
"I do."
"Do you know who Sir James Narford was?"
"I would prefer you to tell me," I replied.
"Sir James Narford," the funny creature went on glibly, "was a young gentleman who had been employed during the war in one of the Government departments; he was the only son of his father who was an impoverished Irish baronet. Soon after the Armistice, Sir James went to South America to visit some relations. He must have made a very favourable impression on one of these—an eccentric old cousin who died a very few months later and left to his English relative a marvellous collection of pearls and other gems. Some of these were of priceless value, and as is the way with anything that is out of the common, all sorts of stories grew around the romantic legacy. The great worth and marvellous beauty of the jewels were told and retold, with many embellishments no doubt, in the English papers. It was asserted that the Brazilian Government had valued them for probate at a million pounds sterling; that there were diamonds—some still uncut—that would make the Koh-i-noor or the Orloff look like small bits of glass, and so on. I daresay you can remember some of the legends that gathered around Sir James Narford's gems. By the time the lucky owner of the fabulous treasure, who had gone out again to Brazil in order to fetch away his jewels, had returned to England, he was the object of universal interest and he and his gems were photographed and paragraphed all over the place.
"But as I told you, the recipient of this princely legacy had always been a poor man. We may take it that the payment of legacy duty on forty thousand pounds' worth of gems had impoverished him still further. Busybodies, of course, tried to persuade him to sell the gems; he had numberless letters from diamond and pearl merchants, asking for permission to see them with a view to purchase, but, naturally enough, he didn't want to do anything in a hurry; he deposited his treasure at the bank and then thought things over. He didn't want to sell, for he was inordinately proud of his new possession and of the notoriety which it had conferred upon him. It was even rumoured that he had received more than one hint from fair lips that if he proposed marriage, the owner of such beautiful jewels would be certain of acceptance.
"I don't know who first suggested the idea to Sir James Narford that he should exhibit the gems for the benefit of disabled soldiers and sailors. It was a splendid idea; 2s. 6d. was to be charged for admission, and after deducting expenses of rent and attendants, the profits were to go to that very laudable charity. Suitable premises were secured in Sackville Street. These consisted of a shop with a large plate-glass front and a small room at the back; the entrance was through a front door and passage, which were common to the rest of the house, and there were two doors in the passage, one of which gave into the shop, and the other into the back room. Sir James spent a little money in getting up the place in modern style, and he had some cases made for the display of the gems. The door which gave from the passage into the shop was condemned, and a heavy piece of furniture placed against it. The back room was only to be used as an office and ante-room with communicating doors leading into the shop.
"In the daytime the gems were displayed in glass cases ranged right and left of the shop; at night they were locked up in a safe which stood in the middle of the shop, facing the plate-glass window and with a blazing electric light kept on all night, just above the safe. This is a very usual device with jewellers in a smaller way of business. The policeman on night duty can see at once if there is anything wrong.
"Everything being ready, Sir James Narford asked a distinguished lady friend of his to declare the show open, and for the first fortnight—this, I must tell you, was in October—there was a steady stream of visitors, ladies for the most part, who came to gaze on the much-advertised gems. You might wonder what pleasure there could be in looking at things one could never hope to possess, especially at loose gems, however precious, which, to my mind, only become beautiful when they are mounted and set in artistic designs. However, I do not profess to understand feminine mentality; all I know is that Sir James Narford declared himself on more than one occasion satisfied with the result of his little venture. True that after the first fortnight the attendance at the show fell off considerably, and a few people did wonder why Sir James should continue to keep it open for so long. Those who had been most curious to see the gems of fabulous value had flocked in the first few days, after that there was only a very thin sprinkling of people up from the country, or foreigners, who paid their 2s. 6d. admission for the sight. But be that as it may, the jewels were certainly getting an additional amount of advertisement, and when presently the owner would put them for sale, as no doubt he intended to do, they would fetch a higher figure in consequence. In the meanwhile Sir James went on living very quietly in a small service flat in George Street, waited on by a faithful servant, a man named Ruggles, whom he had known for years. Every day he would stroll round to Sackville Street to look at his treasure and to talk to one or two friends. At six o'clock the exhibition would be closed, and Sir James would himself deposit all the gems into the safe, lock up the premises, and take the keys back with him to his flat. He went out very little in society, and only occasionally to his club. His one extravagance appeared to be a mania for travelling in all sorts of out-of-the-way places; he had been seemingly in every corner of Europe—in Czecho-Slovakia and Yugoslavia, in Montenegro, Bosnia, and Bessarabia. Before this whenever he went off on his travels he would take his man with him and shut up the flat, but on the occasion which presently arose he left Ruggles in charge of the exhibition in Sackville Street. This was early in November, about a fortnight after the opening of the exhibition; and when Sir James had gone it was Ruggles who every night at six o'clock put the gems away in the safe and locked up the premises. He then made a point of going for a brisk walk, and returned to the flat at about half-past seven, had his supper, read his paper, and then went to bed at about ten o'clock with the keys of the safe and of the Sackville Street premises underneath his pillow.
"One of the staff in the flats at George Street always got his supper ready for him—some cold meat, bread and cheese, and half a pint of beer, which the lift-boy invariably fetched for him from the Crown and Sceptre round the corner. He prepared his own breakfast in the morning, and his other meals he took in Sackville Street. They were sent in from one of the cheaper restaurants in Piccadilly.