"I suppose a woman had no hand in it."
"The act was too daring; only a man could have walked off with that dressing-case in the daylight with a station full of passengers."
"Tell me," I said, "after the dressing-case disappeared, when did the next train leave the station."
"In five minutes. The countess intended to travel by that train, but the loss of her dressing-case prevented her."
"You have my address; send me a list of the stolen things and a company's time-table, with the train which started five minutes after the robbery marked in ink, and take care there is no mistake about the train. I have been thinking a good deal about this matter, and have set up a theory of my own."
"There is one thing you may be certain about. You have no ordinary criminal to deal with."
"I am not quite of your opinion, but if anything comes of my researches you shall have a portion of the reward."
Whether it is my peculiar bent of mind or not, I cannot say, but I have often in the course of my lifetime amused myself by taking up mysterious cases where the police were at fault, and not always without success. The countess was one of the most beautiful women of her time, and as good as she was beautiful. She was naturally much grieved at the loss of the family jewels, and the numerous valuable presents she had received from royalty and others on her marriage. The earl was terribly annoyed at the theft, and blamed the countess for losing sight of the dressing-case. Every assistance, so far as publicity was concerned, was given by the press, and the Times had a leader about one of the missing stones, which had once been the eye of an idol in India.
The list of the stolen valuables and the marked time-table were promptly sent to me, and as I had some leisure at the time I went immediately to work to test the soundness of my theory. The robbery was committed five minutes before a certain train started, and the culprit may have left by that train.