“No. 218—Nicholas Hemmingway, popularly known as ‘Diamond Nick.’ American. Expert swindler, confidence man and jewel thief. Ex-actor and very skilful at impersonation. See Rogues’ Gallery for portrait.
“No. 774—Ella Plawsen, variously known to members of the light-fingered fraternity as ‘Dutch Ella’ and ‘Lady Bell.’ German-American. Probably the most adroit female jewel thief in existence. Highly educated, exceedingly handsome, and amazingly plausible and quick witted. Usually does the ‘society dodge.’ Natural blonde, and about twenty-five years old. No photograph obtainable.”
Within forty-five minutes after Mr. Narkom had mastered these facts he had rushed with them to Cleek, and there was a vacancy in the list of special constables from that time forth.
“Slipped in, have they?” said Cleek when he heard. “Well, be sure of one thing, Mr. Narkom: they will not have gone to a hotel—at least in the beginning—they are far too sharp for that. Neither will they house themselves in any hole and corner where their sallying forth in fine feathers to make their little clean-up would occasion comment and so lead to a clue. Indeed, I shouldn’t be surprised if they were far too shrewd to remain together in any place, but will elect to operate singly, appear to have no connection whatsoever, while they are here, and to have a sort of ‘happy reunion’ elsewhere after their little job has been pulled off successfully. But in any case, when we find them—if we ever do—depend upon it they will be located in some quiet, respectable, secluded district, one of the suburbs, for instance, and living as circumspectly as the most prudish of prying neighbours could desire.
“Let us then go in for a series of ‘walking tours’ about the outlying districts, Mr. Narkom, and see if we can’t stumble over something that will be worth while. It is true I’ve never met nor even seen Hemmingway, but I fancy I should know if a man were made up or not for the rôle in which he appears. I did, however, brush elbows with Dutch Ella once. It was that time I went over to New York on that affair of the Amsterdam diamonds. You remember? When I ‘split’ the reward with the fellow from Mulberry Street, whose daughter wanted to study music as a profession and he couldn’t afford to let her. I hobnobbed with some acquaintances of the—er—old days, over there, and went one night to the big French Ball at the Academy of Music, where, my companion of the night told me, there would be ‘a smashing big clean-up, as half the swell crooks in town would be there—for business.’
“They were, I dare say, for he kept pointing out this one and that to me and saying, ‘That’s so and so!’ as they danced past us. I shouldn’t know any of them again, so far as looks are concerned, for the annual French Ball in New York is a masked ball, as you are, perhaps, aware; and I shouldn’t know ‘Dutch Ella’ any better than the rest, but for one thing—although I danced with her.”
“Danced with her, Cleek? Danced?”
“Yes. For the purpose of ‘getting a line on her shape,’ so to speak, for possible future reference. I couldn’t see her face, for she was masked to the very chin; but there’s a curious, tumor-like lump, as big as a hen’s egg, just under her right shoulder-blade, and there’s the scar of an acid burn on the back of her left hand that she’ll carry to her grave. I shall know that scar if ever I see it again. And if by any chance I should run foul of a woman bearing one like it, and that woman should prove to have also a lump under the right shoulder-blade——Come along! Let’s get out and see if we can find one. ‘Time flies,’ as the anarchist said when he blew up the clock factory. Let’s toddle.”
They “toddled” forthwith, but on a fruitless errand, as it proved. Nevertheless, they “toddled” again the next day as hopefully as ever; and the next after that, and the next again, yet at the end of the fourth they were no nearer any clue to the whereabouts of Dutch Ella and Diamond Nick than they had been in the beginning. If, as Cleek sometimes fancied, they had not merely passed through England on their way to the Continent, but were still here, housed like hawks in a safe retreat from which they made predatory excursions under the very noses of the police, there was nothing to signalize it. No amazing jewel theft, no affair of such importance as one engineered by them would be sure to be, had as yet been reported to the Yard; and for all clue there was to their doings or their whereabouts one might as well have set out to find last summer’s roses or last winter’s snow as hope to pick it up by any method as yet employed.
Thus matters stood when on the morning of the fifth day Cleek elected to make Hampstead Heath and its environments the scene of their operations, and at nine o’clock set forth in company with the superintendent to put them into force in that particular locality, with the result that by noontime they found themselves in the thick of as pretty a riddle as they had fallen foul of in many a day.