The Diamond Master by Jacques Futrelle
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7 THE DIAMOND MASTER
by
JACQUES FUTRELLE
Author of "Elusive Isabel," "The Thinking Machine," etc.
Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer
Indianapolis
The Bobbs-Merrill Company
Publishers
1909
[Frontispiece]
CONTENTS
I THE FIRST DIAMOND
II TWEEDLEDUM AND TWEEDLEDEE
III THURSDAY AT THREE
IV THE UNLIMITED SUPPLY
V THE ASTUTE MR. BIRNES
VI THE MYSTERIOUS WOMAN
VII A WINGED MESSENGER
VIII SOME CONJECTURES
IX AND MORE DIAMONDS!
X THE BIG GAME
XI THE SILENT BELL
XII THE THIRD DEGREE
XIII MR. CZENKI APPEARS
XIV CAUGHT IN THE NET
XV THE TRUTH IN PART
XVI MR. CZENKI EXPLAINS
XVII THE GREAT CUBE
CHAPTER I
THE FIRST DIAMOND
There were thirty or forty personally addressed letters, the daily
heritage of the head of a great business establishment; and a plain,
yellow-wrapped package about the size of a cigarette-box, some three
inches long, two inches wide and one inch deep. It was neatly tied
with thin scarlet twine, and innocent of markings except for the
superscription in a precise, copperplate hand, and the smudge of the
postmark across the ten-cent stamp in the upper right-hand corner. The
imprint of the cancellation, faintly decipherable, showed that the
package had been mailed at the Madison Square substation at half-past
seven o'clock of the previous evening.
Mr. Harry Latham, president and active head of the H. Latham Company,
manufacturing jewelers in Fifth Avenue, found the letters and the
package on his desk when he entered his private office a few minutes
past nine o'clock. The simple fact that the package bore no return
address or identifying mark of any sort caused him to pick it up and
examine it, after which he shook it inquiringly. Then, with kindling
curiosity, he snipped the scarlet thread with a pair of silver
scissors, and unfolded the wrappings. Inside was a glazed paper box,
such as jewelers use, but still there was no mark, no printing, either
on top or bottom.
The cover of the box came off in Mr. Latham's hand, disclosing a bed
of white cotton. He removed the downy upper layer, and there--there,
nestling against the snowy background, blazed a single splendid
diamond, of six, perhaps seven, carats. Myriad colors played in its
blue-white depths, sparkling, flashing, dazzling in the subdued
light. Mr. Latham drew one long quick breath, and walked over to the
window to examine the stone in the full glare of day.
A minute or more passed, a minute of wonder, admiration, allurement,
but at last he ventured to lift the diamond from the box. It was
perfect, so far as he could see; perfect in cutting and color and
depth, prismatic, radiant, bewilderingly gorgeous. Its value? Even
he could not offer an opinion--only the appraisement of his expert
would be worth listening to on that point. But one thing he knew
instantly--in the million-dollar stock of precious stones stored
away in the vaults of the H. Latham Company, there was not one to
compare with this.
At length, as he stared at it fascinated, he remembered that he
didn't know its owner, and for the second time he examined the
wrappings, the box inside and out, and finally he lifted out the
lower layer of cotton, seeking a fugitive card or mark of some sort.
Surely the owner of so valuable a stone would not be so careless as
to send it this way, through the mail--unregistered--without some
method of identification! Another sharp scrutiny of box and cotton
and wrappings left him in deep perplexity.
Then another idea came. One of the letters, of course! The owner
of the diamond had sent it this way, perhaps to be set, and had sent
instructions under another cover. An absurd, even a reckless thing
to do, but ----! And Mr. Latham attacked the heap of letters neatly
stacked up in front of him. There were thirty-six of them, but not
one even remotely hinted at diamonds. In order to be perfectly sure,
Mr. Latham went through his mail a second time. Perhaps the letter
of instructions had come addressed to the company, and had gone to
the secretary, Mr. Flitcroft.
He arose to summon Mr. Flitcroft from an adjoining room, then changed
his mind long enough carefully to replace the diamond in the box and
thrust the box into a pigeonhole of his desk. Then he called Mr.
Flitcroft in.
"Have you gone through your morning mail?" Mr. Latham inquired of the
secretary.
"Yes," he replied. "I have just finished."
"Did you happen to come across a letter bearing on--that is, was
there a letter to-day, or has there been a letter of instructions as
to a single large diamond which was to come, or had come, by mail?"
"No, nothing," replied Mr. Flitcroft promptly. "The only letter
received to-day which referred to diamonds was a notification of a
shipment from South Africa."
Mr. Latham thoughtfully drummed on his desk.
"Well, I'm expecting some such letter," he explained. "When it comes
please call it to my attention. Send my stenographer in."
Mr. Flitcroft nodded and withdrew; and for an hour or more Mr. Latham
was engrossed in the routine of correspondence. There was only an
occasional glance at the box in the pigeonhole, and momentary fits
of abstraction, to indicate an unabated interest and growing
curiosity in the diamond. The last letter was finished, and the
stenographer arose to leave.
"Please ask Mr. Czenki to come here," Mr. Latham directed.
And after a while Mr. Czenki appeared. He was a spare little man,
with beady black eyes, bushy brows, and a sinister scar extending
from the point of his chin across the right jaw. Mr. Czenki drew
a salary of twenty-five thousand dollars a year from the H. Latham
Company, and was worth twice that much. He was the diamond expert
of the firm; and for five or six years his had been the final word
as to quality and value. He had been a laborer in the South African
diamond fields--the scar was an assegai thrust--about the time Cecil
Rhodes' grip was first felt there; later he was employed as an expert
by Barney Barnato at Kimberly, and finally he went to London with
Adolph Zeidt. Mr. Latham nodded as he entered, and took the box
from the pigeonhole.
"Here's something I'd like you to look at," he remarked.
Mr. Czenki removed the cover and turned the glittering stone out into
his hand. For a minute or more he stood still, examining it, as he
turned and twisted it in his fingers, then walked over to a window,
adjusted a magnifying glass in his left eye and continued the
scrutiny. Mr. Latham swung around in his chair and stared at him
intently.
"It's the most perfect blue-white I've ever seen," the expert
announced at last. "I dare say it's the most perfect in the world."
Mr. Latham arose suddenly and strode over to Mr. Czenki, who was
twisting the jewel in his fingers, singling out, dissecting, studying
the colorful flashes, measuring the facets with practised eyes,
weighing it on his finger-tips, seeking a possible flaw.
"The cutting is very fine," the expert went on. "Of course I would
have to use instruments to tell me if it is mathematically correct;
and the weight, I imagine, is--is about six carats, perhaps a
fraction more."
"What's it worth?" asked Mr. Latham. "Approximately, I mean?"
"We know the color is perfect," explained Mr. Czenki precisely. "If,
in addition, the cutting is perfect, and the depth is right, and the
weight is six carats or a fraction more, it's worth--in other words,
if that is the most perfect specimen in existence, as it seems to be,
it's worth whatever you might choose to demand for it--twenty,
twenty-five, thirty thousand dollars. With this color, and assuming
it to be six carats, even if _badly_ cut, it would be worth ten or
twelve thousand."
Mr. Latham mopped his brow. And this had come by mail, unregistered!
"It would not be possible to say where--where such a stone came
from--what country?" Mr. Latham inquired curiously. "What's your
opinion?"
The expert shook his head. "If I had to guess I should say Brazil,
of course," he replied; "but that would be merely because the most
perfect blue-white diamonds come from Brazil. They are found all
over the world--in Africa, Russia, India, China, even in the United
States. The simple fact that this color is perfect makes conjecture
useless."
Mr. Latham lapsed into silence, and for a time paced back and forth
across his office; Mr. Czenki stood waiting.
"Please get the exact weight," Mr. Latham requested abruptly. "Also
test the cutting. It came into my possession in rather an--an
unusual manner, and I'm curious."
The expert went out. An hour later he returned and placed the white,
glazed box on the desk before Mr. Latham.
"The weight is six and three-sixteenths carats," he stated. "The
depth is absolutely perfect according to the diameter of the girdle.
The _bezel_ facets are mathematically correct to the minutest
fraction--thirty-three, including the table. The facets on the
_collet_ side are equally exact--twenty-five, including the _collet_,
or fifty-eight facets in all. As I said, the color is flawless. In
other words," he continued without hesitation, "I should say,
speaking as an expert, that it is the most perfect diamond existing
in the world to-day."
Mr. Latham had been staring at him mutely, and he still sat silent
for an instant after Mr. Czenki had finished.
"And its value?" he asked at last.
"Its value!" Mr. Czenki repeated musingly. "You know, Mr. Latham,"
he went on suddenly, "there are a hundred experts, commissioned by
royalty, scouring the diamond markets of the world for such stones
as this. So, if you are looking for a sale and a price, by all means
offer it abroad first." He lifted the sparkling, iridescent jewel
from the box again, and gazed at it reflectively. "There is not one
stone belonging to the British crown, for instance, which would in
any way compare with this."
"Not even the Koh-i-noor?" Mr. Latham demanded, surprised.
Mr. Czenki shook his head.
"Not even the Koh-i-noor. It is larger, that's all--a fraction more
than one hundred and six carats, but it has neither the coloring nor
the cutting of this." There was a pause. "Would it be impertinent
if I ask who owns this?"
"I don't know," replied Mr. Latham slowly. "I don't know; but it
isn't ours. Perhaps later I'll be able to--"
"I beg your pardon," the expert interrupted courteously, and there
was a slight expression of surprise on his thin scarred face. "Is
that all?"
Mr. Latham nodded absently and Mr. Czenki left the room.
CHAPTER II
TWEEDLEDUM AND TWEEDLEDEE
A little while later, when Mr. Latham started out to luncheon, he
thrust the white glazed box into an inside pocket. It had occurred
to him that Schultze--Gustave Schultze, the greatest importer of
precious stones in America--was usually at the club where he had
luncheon, and--
He found Mr. Schultze, a huge blond German, sitting at a table in an
alcove, alone, gazing out upon Fifth Avenue in deep abstraction, with
perplexed wrinkles about his blue eyes. The German glanced around at
Latham quickly as he proceeded to draw out a chair on the opposite
side of the table.
"Sid down, Laadham, sid down," he invited explosively. "I haf yust
send der vaiter to der delephone to ask--"
There was a restrained note of excitement in the German's voice, but
at the moment it was utterly lost upon Mr. Latham.
"Schultze, you've probably imported more diamonds in the last ten
years than any other half-dozen men in the United States," he
interrupted. "I have something here I want you to see. Perhaps,
at some time, it may have passed through your hands."
He placed the glazed box on the table. For an instant the German
stared at it with amazed eyes, then one fat hand darted toward it,
and he spilled the diamond out on the napkin in his plate. Then he
sat gazing as if fascinated by the lambent, darting flashes deep from
the blue-white heart.
"_Mein Gott_, Laadham!" he exclaimed, and with fingers which shook a
little he lifted the stone and squinted through it toward the light,
with critical eyes. Mr. Latham was leaning forward on the table,
waiting, watching, listening.
"Well?" he queried impatiently, at last.
"Laadham, id is der miracle!" Mr. Schultze explained solemnly, with
his characteristic, whimsical philosophy. "I haf der dupligade of
id, Laadham--der dwin, der liddle brudder. Zee here!"
From an inner pocket he produced a glazed white box, identical with
that which Mr. Latham had just set down, then carefully laid the
cover aside.
"Look, Laadham, look!"
Mr. Latham looked--and gasped! Here was the counterpart of the
mysterious diamond which still lay in Mr. Schultze's outstretched
palm.
"Dey are dwins, Laadham," remarked the German quaintly, finally.
"Id came by der mail in dis morning--yust like das, wrapped in
paper, but mit no marks, no name, no noddings. Id yust came!"
With his right hand Mr. Latham lifted the duplicate diamond from
its cotton bed, and with his left took the other from the German's
hand. Then, side by side, he examined them; color, cutting, diameter,
depth, all seemed to be the same.
"Dwins, I dell you," repeated Mr. Schultze stolidly. "Dweedledum
und Dweedledee, born of der same mudder und fadder. Laadham, id
iss der miracle! Dey are der most beaudiful der world in--yust der
pair of dem."
"Have you made," Mr. Latham began, and there was an odd, uncertain
note in his voice--"Have you made an expert examination?"
"I haf. I measure him, der deepness, der cudding, der facets, und
id iss perfect. Und I take my own judgment of a diamond, Laadham,
before any man der vorld in but Czenki."
"And the weight?"
"Prezizely six und d'ree-sixdeendh carads. Dere iss nod more as a
difference of a d'irty-second bedween dem."
Mr. Latham regarded the importer steadily, the while he fought back
an absurd, nervous thrill in his voice.
"There isn't that much, Schultze. Their weight is exactly the same."
For a long time the two men sat staring at each other unseeingly.
Finally the German, with a prodigious Teutonic sigh, replaced the
diamond from Mr. Latham's right hand in one of the glazed boxes and
carefully stowed it away in a cavernous pocket; Mr. Latham
mechanically disposed of the other in the same manner.
"Whose are they?" he demanded at length. "Why are they sent to us
like this, with no name, no letter of explanation? Until I saw the
stone you have I believed this other had been sent to me by some
careless fool for setting, perhaps, and that a letter would follow
it. I merely brought it here on the chance that it was one of your
importations and that you could identify it. But since you have
received one under circumstances which seem to be identical, now--"
He paused helplessly. "What does it mean?"
Mr. Schultze shrugged his huge shoulders and thoughtfully flicked
the ashes from his cigar into the consomme.
"You know, Laadham," he said slowly, "dey don't pick up diamonds
like dose on der streed gorners. I didn't believe dere vas a stone
of so bigness in der Unided States whose owner I didn't know id vas.
Dose dat are here I haf bring in myself, mostly--dose I did not I haf
kept drack of. I don'd know, Laadham, I don'd know. Der longer I
lif der more I don'd know."
The two men completed a scant luncheon in silence.
"Obviously," remarked Mr. Latham as he laid his napkin aside, "the
diamonds were sent to us by the same person; obviously they were sent
to us with a purpose; obviously we will, in time, hear from the
person who sent them; obviously they were intended to be perfectly
matched; so let's see if they are. Come to my office and let Czenki
examine the one you have." He hesitated an instant. "Suppose you
let me take it. We'll try a little experiment."
He carefully placed the jewel which the German handed to him, in an
outside pocket, and together they went to his office. Mr. Czenki
appeared, in answer to a summons, and Mr. Latham gave him the
German's box.
"That's the diamond you examined for me this morning, isn't it?" he
inquired.
Mr. Czenki turned it out into his hand and scrutinized it
perfunctorily.
"Yes," he replied after a moment.
"Are you quite certain?" Mr. Latham insisted.
Something in the tone caused Mr. Czenki to raise his beady black
eyes questioningly for an instant, after which he walked over to a
window and adjusted his magnifying glass again. For a moment or more
he stood there, then:
"It's the same stone," he announced positively.
"Id _iss_ der miracle, Laadham, when Czenki make der mistake!" the
German exploded suddenly. "Show him der odder von."
Mr. Czenki glanced from one to the other with quick, inquisitive
glance; then, without a word, Mr. Latham produced the second box and
opened it. The expert stared incredulously at the two perfect stones
and finally, placing them side by side on a sheet of paper, returned
to the window and sat down. Mr. Latham and Mr. Schultze stood beside
him, looking on curiously as he turned and twisted the jewels under
his powerful glass.
"As a matter of fact," asked Mr. Latham pointedly at last, "you would
not venture to say which of those stones it was you examined this
morning, would you?"
"No," replied Mr. Czenki curtly, "not without weighing them."
"And if the weight is identical?"
"No," said Mr. Czenki again. "If the weight is the same there is not
the minutest fraction of a difference between them."
CHAPTER III
THURSDAY AT THREE
Mr. Latham ran through his afternoon mail with feverish haste and
found--nothing; Mr. Schultze achieved the same result more
ponderously. On the following morning the mail still brought
nothing. About eleven o'clock Mr. Latham's desk telephone rang.
"Come to my offiz," requested Mr. Schultze, in gutteral excitement.
"_Mein Gott_, Laadham, der--come to my offiz, Laadham, und bring der
diamond!"
Mr. Latham went. Including himself, there were the heads of the five
greatest jewel establishments in America, representing, perhaps,
one-tenth of the diamond trade of the country, in Mr. Schultze's
office. He found the other four gathered around a small table, and on
this table--Mr. Latham gasped as he looked--lay four replicas of the
mysterious diamond in his pocket.
"Pud id down here, Laadham," directed Mr. Schultze. "Dey're all
dwins alike--Dweedeldums und Dweedledeeses."
Mr. Latham silently placed the fifth diamond on the table, and for
a minute or more the five men stood still and gazed, first at the
diamonds, then at one another, and then again at the diamonds. Mr.
Solomon, the crisply spoken head of Solomon, Berger and Company,
broke the silence.
"These all came yesterday morning by mail, one to each of us just as
the one came to you," he informed Mr. Latham. "Mr. Harris here, of
Harris and Blacklock, learned that I had received such a stone, and
brought the one he had received for comparison. We made some
inquiries together and found that a duplicate had been received by
Mr. Stoddard, of Hall-Stoddard-Higginson. The three of us came here
to see if Mr. Schultze could give us any information, and he
telephoned for you."
Mr. Latham listened blankly.
"It's positively beyond belief," he burst out. "What--what does it
mean?"
"Id means," the German importer answered philosophically, "dat if
diamonds like dese keep popping up like dis, dat in anoder d'ree
months dey vill nod be vorth more as five cents a bucketful."
The truth of the observation came to the four others simultaneously.
Hitherto there had been only the sense of wonder and admiration; now
came the definite knowledge that diamonds, even of such great size
and beauty as these, would grow cheap if they were to be picked out
of the void; and realization of this astonishing possibility brought
five shrewd business brains to a unit of investigation. First it
was necessary to find how many other jewelers had received
duplicates; then it was necessary to find whence they came. A plan
was adopted, and an investigation ordered to begin at once.
"Dere iss someding back of id, of course," declared Mr. Schultze.
"_Vas iss?_ Dey are nod being send for our healdh!"
During the next six days half a score of private detectives were at
work on the mystery, with the slender clews at hand. They scanned
hotel registers, quizzed paper-box manufacturers, pestered stamp
clerks, bedeviled postal officials, and the sum total of their
knowledge was negative, save in the fact that they established beyond
question that only these five men had received the diamonds.
And meanwhile the heads of the five greatest jewel houses in New
York were assiduous in their search for that copperplate
superscription in their daily mail. On the morning of the eighth day
it came. Mr. Latham was nervously shuffling his unopened personal
correspondence when he came upon it--a formal white square envelope,
directed by that same copperplate hand which had directed the boxes.
He dropped into his chair, and opened the envelope with eager
fingers. Inside was this letter:
MY DEAR SIR:
One week ago I took the liberty of sending to you, and to each
of four other leading jewelers of this city whose names you
know, a single large diamond of rare cutting and color. Please
accept this as a gift from me, and be good enough to convey my
compliments to the other four gentlemen, and assure them that
theirs, too, were gifts.
Believe me, I had no intention of making a mystery of this. It
was necessary definitely to attract your attention, and I could
conceive of no more certain way than in this manner. In return
for the value of the jewels I shall ask that you and the four
others concerned give me an audience in your office on Thursday
afternoon next at three o'clock; that you make known this
request to the others; and that three experts whose judgment
you will all accept shall meet with us.
I believe you will appreciate the necessity of secrecy in this
matter, for the present at least. Respectfully,
E. VAN CORTLANDT WYNNE
They were on hand promptly, all of them--Mr. Latham, Mr. Schultze,
Mr. Solomon, Mr. Stoddard and Mr. Harris. The experts agreed upon
were the unemotional Mr. Czenki, Mr. Cawthorne, an Englishman in the
employ of Solomon, Berger and Company, and Mr. Schultze, who
gravely admitted that he was the first expert in the land, after Mr.
Czenki, and whose opinion of himself was unanimously accepted by the
others. The meeting place was the directors' room of the H. Latham
Company.
At one minute of three o'clock a clerk entered with a card, and
handed it to Mr. Latham.
"'Mr. E. van Cortlandt Wynne,'" Mr. Latham read aloud, and every man
in the room moved a little in his chair. Then: "Show him in here,
please."
"Now, gendlemens," observed Mr. Schultze sententiously, "ve shall zee
vat ve shall zee."
The clerk went out and a moment later Mr. Wynne appeared. He was
tall and rather slender, alert of eyes, graceful of person; perfectly
self-possessed and sure of himself, yet without one trace of egotism
in manner or appearance--a fair type of the brisk, courteous young
business man of New York. He wore a tweed suit, and in his left
hand carried a small sole-leather grip. For an instant he stood,
framed by the doorway, meeting the sharp scrutiny of the assembled
jewelers with a frank smile. For a little time no one spoke--merely
gazed--and finally:
"Mr. Latham?" queried Mr. Wynne, looking from one to the other.
Mr. Latham came to his feet with a sudden realization of his
responsibilities as a temporary host, and introductions followed. Mr.
Wynne passed along on one side of the table, shaking hands with each
man in turn until he came to Mr. Czenki. Mr. Latham introduced them.
"Mr. Czenki," repeated Mr. Wynne, and he allowed his eyes to rest
frankly upon the expert for a moment. "Your name has been repeated
to me so often that I almost feel as if I knew you."
Mr. Czenki bowed without speaking.
"I am assuming that this is the Mr. Czenki who was associated with
Mr. Barnato and Mr. Zeidt?" the young man went on.
"That is correct, yes," replied the expert.
"And I believe, too, that you once did some special work for Professor
Henri Moissan in Paris?"
Mr. Czenki's black eyes seemed to be searching the other's face for an
instant, and then he nodded affirmatively.
"I made some tests for him, yes," he volunteered.
Mr. Wynne passed on along the other side of the long table, and
stopped at the end. Mr. Latham was at his right, Mr. Schultze at
his left, and Mr. Czenki sat at the far end, facing him. The small
sole-leather grip was on the floor at Mr. Wynne's feet. For a moment
he permitted himself to enjoy the varying expressions of interest on
the faces around the table.
"Gentlemen," he began, then, "you all, probably, have seen my letter
to Mr. Latham, or at least you are aware of its contents, so you
understand that the diamonds which were mailed to you are your
property. I am not a eleemosynary institution for the relief of
diamond merchants," and he smiled a little, "for the gifts are
preliminary to a plain business proposition--a method of
concentrating your attention, and, in themselves, part payment, if
I may say it, for any worry or inconvenience which followed upon
their appearance. There are only five of them in the world, they
are precisely alike, and they are yours. I beg of you to accept
them with my compliments."
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