“Well? Had a nice time—eh?” he asked, turning to me as he reclosed the door and again locked it.
I replied in the affirmative, noticing that on the table was something covered with a newspaper.
“I’ve been busy,” he said with a grin, and lifting the paper disclosed a quantity of bracelets, rings, pendants and other ornaments from which the gems had been removed. During our absence he had been occupied in removing the stolen jewels from their settings.
“Yes,” I laughed. “You seem to have been very busy, Vincent!”
Beside the bent and broken articles of gold lay a little pile of glittering gems, none of them very large, but all of first quality.
“Lady Norah wouldn’t like to see her treasures in such a condition, would she?” laughed Duperré. “We shall get rid of them to old Heydenryck, who is arriving presently.”
“Who is he?”
“A Dutch dealer who lives here in Paris. He’s always open to buy good stuff, but he won’t look at any stones that are set. Rayne’s idea was to sell them, just as they were, to a dealer named Steffensen, who buys stuff here and smuggles it over to New York and San Francisco, where it is not likely to be traced. But I find that Steffensen is away in America at the moment, so I’ve approached the Dutchman. Heydenryck is a sly old dog. Unlike Steffensen, he buys unset stones because they are difficult to identify.”
I bent and examined the glittering little pile of diamonds, rubies, emeralds and sapphires which had been stolen from the hotel in London.
“Look here, Hargreave,” said Duperré. “I want you to help us to get rid of this,” and he pointed to the broken jewelry.