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Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
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There was Mrs. Solly struggling and
sobbing in the grip of a couple of men.
IT was 4 o'clock in the afternoon of Friday, July 5, when Cleek, answering a hurried call from headquarters, turned up at "The Three Feathers"—which, if you should feel inclined to seek it, will be found within a stone's throw of Leadenhall Market—and mounting the stairs to the little private room to which he was directed, entered into the presence of Supt. Narkom and a tall, rather raw-boned individual of perhaps forty years of age who had "American" written all over him.
As it had been Cleek's pleasure upon this particular occasion to array himself in the style of those silk-hatted and morning-coated bankers, stockbrokers, company promoters, etc., who can be seen in their hundreds any day about Cornhill and Leadenhall Street, he saw at a glance that his appearance produced anything but a favorable effect upon Mr. Narkom's companion and that he distinctly disapproved of the gray suede gloves, the rose in the buttonhole and the little uptwisted blond mustache which so exactly matched the close-cropped yellow head with its artfully contrived and mathematically correct central parting.
"My dear Cleek, let me have the pleasure of making you acquainted with Mr. Samuel J. Swithers," said Narkom, as he closed and bolted the door behind his famous ally. "Mr. Swithers is officially connected with the Detective Service of the United States Customs, my dear chap. He and one or two of his men are over here in connection with a rather remarkable and long standing case of smuggling, and as they have thus far failed to secure any positive evidence against the guilty party—who, by the way, is well known to them and openly laughs at all efforts to convict him—Col. Bingham, police inspector of New York, has cabled Mr. Swithers instructions to appeal to you."
"As if that were any use," threw in Mr. Swithers, himself, with a twitch of the shoulders and a slightly sarcastic laugh. "If we can't catch our man with the smartest detective service in creation, its dollars to doughnuts a dude won't do it for us, Mr. Narkom."
"No, a 'dude' will not," agreed Cleek, with a good-humored smile. "But possibly I may be able to do so. Don't look at me with such withering scorn, Mr. Swithers. I quite appreciate that it must be hurtful to one's pride to have one's superior take a step of this sort, but—believe me, you are not looking at me—you are simply looking at what I choose to appear."
Mr. Swithers, who up to this moment had not detected even the faintest approach to anything like a disguise, took this "let down" rather sadly.
"Detectives don't go in for 'disguises' and all that sort of ten-cent business over our side," he said rather ill-naturedly.
"No, I suppose not. You are very advanced in all your methods over there. But then—well, they don't have the same reason for this sort of thing that I have, and—there you are."
"Don't mind me," said Swithers with a smile. "I'm not telling any secrets and I've heard a few rumors about 'Cleek' myself. But say, if you tried on any of those tactics with the crooks of New York, they'd spot you before you'd gone two blocks, sonny; and you'd have a tin can hooked on to your coat tails in less than no time. You don't know New York, my friend. Gee! but there's a rude awakening awaiting for you, Charles!"
"There are 'rude awakenings' in store for us all, sometimes," said Cleek; then he put his hand to his mouth, gave his features a twist and faced round again. "Ever had any dealings with this party, Mr. Swithers," he said quietly, "back in Inspector Byrnes' days, when you were attached to Mulberry street squad?"
"Well, I take my—say! You don't mean to tell me it's really you, Ally? And after all these years? Chucked it, have you?—chucked it and going 'straight' nowadays? You are? And you are the feller that's called 'the great Cleek'—you? Say! I take it all back, Mr. Narkom. There ain't no flies on French Ally. He'll do." And then he generously put out his hand and gripped Cleek's in a grasp of good fellowship. "I'm not remembering anything—not me!" he added. "It's just beginning here—that's all. Now sit down, old man, and let me throw a mile of talk into you about this 'Motzah' I've been sent over to nab." Cleek, who knew the idioms of America well enough to understand that, in slang parlance, a Jew is usually alluded to as a "goose," a "kike" or a "Motzah," sank leisurely into the chair which Mr. Swithers thrust toward him, and "took stock" of the phrase.
"A Hebrew gentleman, eh?" he said serenely. "And as I have already been told that it's a case of smuggling, the inference is clear. It will be diamonds, of course. Diamonds and Hebrews seem to have a natural affinity."
"Yes; it's diamonds, right enough," assented Swithers. "And, as you say, Motzahs and sparklers seem to run in double harness. Oh, he's a slick bird is Solly! No old wrinkles in his clothes—fresh and new every trip and he does his little didoes on the wholesale."
"So I should imagine from the Custom House going to the extent of sending you and your comrades over here to circumvent him," said Cleek. "The authorities wouldn't do that with an ordinary smuggler; so it is fair to suppose that this fellow gets a good many diamonds into the country without paying a cent of duty on them."
"Bushels. We calculate that he does the customs out of something like $50,000 a year, reg'lar. Though how he does it the Lord only knows, for he's watched and followed every step he takes, but there's never any getting the goods on him. All we can do is to suspect; but suspecting doesn't make good to the revenue what he does the country out of, so Bingham's given orders that he's to be caught this time, or there'll be several vacancies in the force before September. That's what's put the hustle into us—that's why we're over here. He's over, too. Came on the Carmania two weeks ago tomorrow, and there hasn't been a moment since that one of my deputies hasn't had an eye upon him—here, and in Amsterdam, too—but it's no go. We can't get the goods on him, nohow—he's too fly."
"You're quite certain, of course, that he is over here for the purpose of buying diamonds this time, and not as a little bluff to throw you off the track of some one else?"
"Dead sure he ain't. Makes half a dozen trips to Amsterdam every year. Had him shadowed and made sure of that; so, when he started over this time, me and my mates hiked it off to Amsterdam ahead of him while he was fooling around in London, and laid the pipes to get him foul the moment he appeared. Turned up in Amsterdam two days after we got there, and we never lost sight of him from that moment. Made for one of the biggest diamond dealers there, bold as brass, not caring a hand who saw him—walked in, remained there for an hour and walked out again; but in that time, as I have means of knowing—means that I can't tell you, because I promised the party who gave me the information that I wouldn't give him away—he bought something like $150,000 worth of diamonds and paid spot cash for them."
"Phew!" commented Cleek. "That's what you call a 'pretty considerable bunch' on your side of the water, isn't it? Did he walk out with his purchase on his person?—or no; of course he didn't. You'd have been on him like a thousand of bricks if he had tried those tactics, and the inquiry regarding 'evidence' would have ended then and there, for you managed to have him searched, of course?"
"Sure! He hadn't gone fifty yards before one of my men hiked it for the hotel where the old blouser was putting up, got into his room, hid himself, and the moment Solly came in dropped down on him with a chloroformed sponge and had him limp in less than no time. Then he let us in, and we went through the place and the man like a streak of greased lightning. Not a diamond on him; yet he hadn't stopped anywhere after leaving the dealer's he'd bought the things from. Of course, we wouldn't have touched 'em if there had been; we wouldn't have dared. He could have jugged us if we did. He was in Holland, where he had bought the things at their market price, so there was nothing illegal in his having them. But grabbing 'em wasn't our game. We wanted to have positive evidence that they were in his possession, because I'd cabled over a cipher message to New York the minute the purchase was made, and it was my business to cable later that he had the sparklers with him when he started for home. But, as I said before, it was no go; we never found a blasted diamond."
"Couldn't the man who told you about the purchase tell you what had become of them? Or was he merely a confederate, do you think, who had shipped them off according to instructions as soon as you and your men started off to follow this 'Solly'?"
"Search me!" replied Swithers. "All I know is that he said he didn't know where they were sent, nor when—couldn't even tell if they had been removed from the dealer's custody yet or not. But they were. For the next morning Solly left for England—and us after him—put up at the Savoy, gave all his time to sightseeing, going to theaters and things like that, and to-morrow he's to sail to New York on the Mauretania. Sent his trunks on ahead of him this morning; but you can bet your life we didn't let slip any such opportunity as that. Being an international affair, and me and my deputies the accredited agents of the United States Customs, it didn't take us long to get a permit to search those trunks the moment they turned up at Liverpool. No go again! Not a diamond in 'em—nothing more, in fact, than just what Mr. Solomon Rosenstein had brought over with him, excepting a silk dress and a couple of dozen pairs of kid gloves for Mrs. Solomon Rosenstein, which he will openly 'declare' and pay the duty upon them when the vessel arrives at New York. But he's got $150,000 worth of diamonds somewhere about him, and he'll carry them on board that ship to-morrow to a moral certainty."
"It seems to me that that ought to be sufficient evidence to go upon," said Cleek. "You know he has the stones, so it ought not to be impossible for the customs officers to find them when the vessel arrives. The laws of your government will, in such a case, sanction the searching of the effects and person of everybody aboard the Mauretania upon its arrival; so, if he has a confederate—among the passengers or even among the crew—there would be very little chance of that confederate carrying anything ashore."
"Rats! That's no catch!" said Swithers with a sarcastic laugh. "We've done that little caper before—when we've been almost as sure as we are now that he'd carried the things over—but we never found anything, and he got the sparklers ashore and past the customs in spite of us. Knowing he's got 'em don't improve matters. To tell you the truth, it makes 'em worse in this particular instance; for when I cabled over about the purchase and then was obliged to cable again to say that he had left Holland and we had no positive evidence how and when he had got the diamonds out of that country, nor where they are now, Bingham cabled back the order to appeal to you."
"Right you are. Now tell me something: You say that all persons aboard the steamer with him when he returns from these periodical visits to Amsterdam have been searched on the vessel's arrival at the port of New York, and yet no trace of the whereabouts of the smuggled diamonds has at any time been discovered?"
"That's right. Been done half a dozen times, but nary a diamond. We can't get a hint of how he smuggles them into the country."
"Then how do you know that he does smuggle them in?"
"Because in a month or so the market's loaded with them, and when we trace the source of supplies it's the same old game—Solomon Rosenstein. But you can't get the goods on him, no matter how you try, for half the pawnbrokers in the city stand in with him, and there's a faked pawn ticket to account for every stone if you come down with a search warrant. He's got a place on Third Avenue, not far from Cooper Institute, where he's supposed to deal in curiosities, unredeemed pledges, and things of that sort. The sign over the door reads: 'Little Solly, the diamond broker. Cheapest place in the world to purchase first quality diamonds.' And I guess it is. At any rate, it's the cheapest in the United States, and no wonder he can undersell the big dealers when the things never pay a cent of duty. Some people think that it isn't Solly alone who's in the deal—that it's a sort of syndicate, and that most of the pawnbrokers in the city are behind it, and just use Solly's place as a kind of clearing house. His wife runs the place while he's away—and she's a bird, too, I can tell you. Needles are blunt compared with Solly's wife. A good looker, too, and straight as a plumb-line. Dead stuck on her Solly, and wouldn't change him for any man living. Always down to the steamer to see him off when he sails for this side, and always at the pier to welcome him when he gets back again. Makes you tired to see how she hugs and kisses him, and what a fuss she makes over the ugly little snipe."
"Hum-m-m!" commented Cleek reflectively, and began to pinch his chin. "Does he never bring her over here with him?"
"Sure! Once in a while. His father looks after the business at such times. But it's easy 'looking after.' There ain't much doing in Solly's line when Mrs. Solly is out of the country. He gathers in the sparklers and she gets them circulating."
"Ah! I see. He is always in the country when she isn't."
"That's what makes it so thundering hard to get any positive evidence against the little devil; sometimes when he's on the sea coming over here, and we can't say that he's at the bottom of it because he isn't in the country at all, out will come a flood of diamonds into the market, we'll trace the source of supply to Solly Rosenstein's place again, and when you come down on it—nothing doing. There's the pawn ticket and the pawnbroker, and there are Mrs. Solly's books to show that she only gets a commission on the sales. It's a dead cinch you'll never get the goods on her."
"Yet I suppose it has occurred to you that she is the confederate, and that if the diamonds do get past the customs undetected hers is, in all probability, the hand that conveys them?"
"Sure! We're as certain of that as we are that he buys them in Amsterdam; and every time she makes the trip with him the lady detectives take her in hand when the vessel reaches New York, hustle her into the detention room, and open every puff and tuck in all her clothing. Nothing doing! They never find any more on her than we fellers find on her husband. But a month or so later out comes another lot of diamonds, and the market's flooded with them. Oh! don't you go to thinking that we haven't got our eyes on Rachael. If she was to make fifty trips a year with her Solly she'd never come past the customs till she was searched to the limit."
"But when she doesn't go with him," said Cleek; "when she only comes down to see him off—do you have her searched then?"
Swithers turned round and gave him a curious look, as though he did not quite believe he had heard correctly. Then:
"What are you giving me?" he said with a jeering laugh. "Search for the things before he's got over here and bought 'em? Come off your perch! We may be quick, but we don't go hunting for things before they're lost."
"Quite so! Quite so!" agreed Cleek. "Silly remark, that of mine. She wouldn't be likely to have the diamonds he was going over to purchase before he had got there and bought them, of course—you are quite right in that, Mr. Swithers. So that's the case is it? That's the riddle you want solved, eh? First, how Mr. Solly Rosenstein gets those diamonds aboard the steamer, and second how he gets them off again and evades the United States revenue officers? Well, if my theory is correct, the first ought not to be very difficult to answer. I shall sail with you on the Mauretania to-morrow, and I dare say that we shall find that one of the passengers leaves the steamer when she touches at Queenstown for the mails and the Irish passengers on Sunday morning. I think he will be a Hollander, and I think, too, that he will leave the diamonds behind him. But, whether I am right in that conjecture or not, one thing is certain: the diamonds will go aboard ship with Mr. Solly Rosenstein, and the point is to discover how he gets them off and carries them past the United States Customs—if he ever does succeed in doing so."
"Oh, he'll pull that off all right—all right!" prophesied Swithers with a laugh. "There's a reward of $25,000 to the man who nabs him and puts an end to his little game; but I bet you a hat you'll never win it!"
"Bet you another I do!" replied Cleek serenely. "Now unbolt the door and ring for tea, Mr. Narkom; I could do with a cup just now. After that I must toddle back home and see about my packing, for it will take at least six weeks to finish this little job and turn my face homeward again, and a man needs a few changes of clothing in that space of time."
"Think you've got a clew, Cleek? Think you can overhaul the fellow, old chap?"
"Sure of it, Mr. Narkom. A sovereign to a six-pence Mr. Solly Rosenstein has already smuggled past the United States Custom House the last batch of diamonds he is ever going to land—here, either with or without Mrs. Solly's valuable assistance, so long as he's a living man."
IT was exactly twenty-eight minutes to 5 o'clock on the
following afternoon when the Mauretania drew away from her
moorings at the Liverpool landing stage and swung out into the
Mersey on her way to sea; but, despite Cleek's promise that he
would be aboard, Mr. Samuel J. Swithers—holding himself
carefully aloof from his colleagues—saw no one even vaguely
resembling him, either that day or that night. It was not until
the next morning that he knew just where and how to locate him.
That occurred during the bustle and confusion of taking aboard
the Irish mail and while the Irish bumboatmen and women were
flicking round the steamer in their lumbering craft peddling lace
and bogwood pigs and pots of shamrock to those of the passengers
who might wish to carry back souvenirs of Queenstown, and the
tender which had brought the mail was getting ready to steam back
to land again, that a sudden recollection came to Mr. Swithers of
what Cleek had said yesterday regarding this place and this hour
and the probability of some one leaving the vessel. Last night
Mr. Solly Rosenstein had not seen fit to grace the decks or the
smoke room with his company, preferring to remain within the
confines of his stateroom and to retire early. Now, however,
Swithers suddenly became aware that he had not only joined the
group of people who were interested in the bumboat women and the
preparations for the tender's departure, but as the cry of "All
off for shore that's going!" sounded along the decks, wrung the
hand of a man who cut down the gangway before the tender cast off
and was waving that man a smiling farewell.
"The little devil!" exclaimed Swithers, putting his thought into words under the stress of strong excitement, as the gangway was drawn off and the man who had just run down it turned and replied in kind to Mr. Rosenstein's salutation and shouted a laughing "Bon voyage!" over the froth of the tender's revolving paddle. "Well, I take my oath."
"Chap who sold you the 'confidence' regarding the purchase of the stones at the dealer's in Amsterdam, isn't it? I thought it would be," said a low voice beside him; and as Mr. Swithers twitched around his head and stared he became aware that it was actually the quiet, elderly Jewish gentleman at his elbow who had spoken. He sucked in his breath with a suppressed "Gee!" as he made this discovery; then discreetly dropped his voice to a whisper and kept staring out at the departing tender, as if wholly interested in that as he went on talking. "Say, you've got me lashed to the mast, old man—honest, you have. Why, I talked to you in the smoke room last night, thinking maybe you was a pal of Solly's and it would be wise to 'cotton up' to you."
"Yes, I supposed that was the reason for your going out of your way to be polite to me. Keep it up, and don't let your men know. The diamonds are aboard, you see—that's how he does that part of the trick," replied Cleek, without seeming to be addressing anybody or interested in anything but the marvellous flocks of white gulls that make Queenstown harbor a continual picture. "He won't do the customs this time, however, and I shall win that hat, Mr. Swithers."
"Straight goods, I half believe you will. No wonder we never could overhaul you in the old days. Say. I believe in giving a man credit when it's due him, Cleek, no matter where he hails from, and you're a cuckoo at this game. Sorry I couldn't have pulled it off on my own, for I've a girl who's a wonder at the piano, and them twenty-five thousand would have come in handy to educate her and bring her out as a professional; but—"
"Split it with you. Twelve thousand five hundred ought to do that trick. Mr. Swithers."
"What? What's that?"
"Split it with you. Half the reward for me and the other half for your little girl, with my compliments."
"Good lord! Do you mean it?"
"Really. 'French Ally' got you reduced and set back over that failure to nab him over the Stoneworth bonds—this will even the score."
"Well, I'll be — Say, old man, you're a clinker."
BEFORE luncheon was served "the quiet, elderly Jewish
gentleman" had managed to scrape Mr. Solomon Rosenstein's
acquaintance, and before the next afternoon they were chummy,
spending the greater part of their time in little games of chess
and draughts in the smoke room, games of shuffleboard on the
deck, and long strolls and short confidences between whiles.
"The quiet, elderly Jewish gentleman" was down on the passenger list as "Mr. Isidor Kaliski, Budapest," and he had confided to Mr. Rosenstetn that that was an alias—a discretionary move to cover a more exalted title—and that he was on his way to America to visit a son-in-law who was a political exile and was concerned in certain secret revolutionary movements against the government of Russia.
These confidential little chats soon established the bond of fellowship, and it was not long before Mr. Kaliski had invited Mr. Rosenstein to visit him in his stateroom and join him in a bottle of champagne after the smoke room was closed o' nights; and Mr. Rosenstein, not having stinginess included among his many gifts, was not slow to return the favor and ask Mr. Kaliski to visit him and do likewise in his.
But they got to no further confidence than just that; and as Mr. Rosenstein was far too shrewd a bird to take too much to drink and to risk the looseness of tongue and the slackness of wits that wine inspires, and as getting him under the influence of alcohol was not in Cleek's plan at any time, it never went beyond that one pint bottle.
Being known to the captain, and the captain being eager as anybody to see this gigantic fraud on the custom house and blot on the line brought to an end, it was not difficult for Mr. Swithers to arrange matters so that Rosenstein might be detained on deck in conversation with some one or other of the ship's officers while the deputies of Mr. Swithers searched his stateroom and effects in the hope that, as the days passed and they were now getting into the neighborhood of American waters and the jurisdiction of the United States government, it might be possible to discover the whereabouts of the diamonds and to nab the smuggler redhanded, as it were. But Mr. Rosenstein's effects revealed no clew to the hiding place of the jewels.
THE five days' voyage went merrily on from a merry beginning
to a merry close. Somewhere in the neighborhood of Nantucket
light the pilot picked up the ship and took the wheel in the
captain's place; and early next morning the revenue boat hove
alongside and the customs officers came aboard, and the
declaration papers were handed round to be filled before being
sworn to and signed.
As Swithers had prophesied, Mr. Rosenstein swore to the possession of two dozen pairs of kid gloves and a silk costume and—to nothing else that was dutiable.
"Now, then, here's where Cleek does his little stunt and puts the kibosh on Solly," further prophesied Mr. Swithers, and stood breathlessly waiting for the dramatic moment.
But it didn't come! All that Cleek did was to keep up the "Isidor Kaliski" fiction, swear to his own belongings and effects and go on about his business like the rest; more than that—go on deck and chum up with Mr. Solly again, and to join in his delight when the vessel, passing with a clean bill, swung on down the bay, past the Statue of Liberty, past the fussing tugs and creeping ferryboats to the Cunard pier, where in the waiting crowd Mrs. Solly stood waving a handkerchief.
"That's my Rachael—that's my wife, Mr. Kaliski," said Rosenstein, pointing her out to Cleek. "Her with the pink silk waist and the diamond earrings. Ain't she stylish—eh?" And afterward, when the landing was reached and the gangway put out, and he and his Rachael were once more in each other's arms, he introduced "Mr. Kaliski;" and to all intents and purposes the acquaintance, like the voyage, had come to an end. Cleek went his way, which was up the gangway and back on board again, and Mr. and Mrs. Solly went theirs.
At the top of the gangway Cleek ran fairly into the arms of the amazed and disappointed Swithers.
Mr. Solly had been subjected to a systematic search, but nothing was found. Mrs. Solly was also searched, but not a diamond was unearthed.
"Done us again," said Swithers, dejectedly and disgustedly as he saw them go. "Yes, and done 'the great Cleek,' too. The great Cleek!' The great Bluff's more like it. I sort of knew he was no good when I seen him first; and now—what a mutt I was to be taken in by him and his promise about Nelly. Get after him! Round him up! Collar him before he gets away!"
But although he himself led the chase, sight or sign of Cleek there was none!—either aboard the vessel or upon the pier. He had gone—as he used to go in his old vanishing cracksman days—and where or when or why no man knew, and the detective bureau of New York the least of all.
THE days and the weeks passed. The Mauretania, at her
scheduled time, weighed anchor and sailed back to England; but
still no Cleek, and still—as he had foretold—no trace
of the smuggled diamonds. Other weeks passed, and the
Mauretania came back to New York again; lay in port for
the allotted time, undergoing the regulation painting and
cleaning and loading up with cargo prior to making her return to
Liverpool, and then, all of a sudden, matters took a sudden
startling turn and something surprising happened. That
"something" took the shape of a special delivery letter
dispatched from the downtown post-office at the City Hall, and
addressed to "Detective Samuel J. Swithers;" and when "Detective
Samuel J. Swithers" received it and opened it he gave a yell you
could have heard fifty yards away. For all that the inclosed
sheet bore were these few words:
Sorry to have kept you waiting, but it was unavoidable. The riddle is solved, however, and if you want the solution have a revenue cutter lying off Fire Island about 6 o'clock tomorrow evening, and send a couple of good men to meet me on the corner of West and Canal streets at 10 o'clock tonight.
Yours, as ever,
Cleek.
ACCORDING to the Cunard schedule, the Mauretania was
to sail at 5:14 on Saturday afternoon, and, according to the
passenger list, Mr. Solomon Rosenstein was to sail with it; and
it was about twenty minutes past 3 when his cheery "Vell, here ve
are again, purser. How you vas since I see you last, eh?" sounded
in that officer's ears, and, looking up from the business of
allotting rooms to those who had not already had them assigned,
he saw standing before him Mr. and Mrs. Solly, with their arms
full of bundles.
Mrs. Solly lingered, taking affectionate and public farewell of her departing lord until the first bell sounded and the ominous "All ashore!" went from end to end of the vessel. And then—just then—when she was taking her final leave of him, and indeed had turned toward the gangway, lo! a hand descended suddenly on Mr. Solly's shoulder, a cheery voice said: "I thought it looked like you, Mr. Rosenstein," and, switching round, he found himself looking once again into the face of his acquaintance of the previous voyage.
"Well, upon my word! How are you, Mr. Kaliski?" exclaimed Mr. Solly delightedly. "Ain't dat nice? Say, Rachael, you rememer Mr. Kaliski, don't you? Here he is again, my dear, and—my gootness! where is Rachael? She was here a moment ago. Rachael! Rachael!
"The crowd must have carried her on down to der pier, poor dear," he said. "Come along, Mr. Kaliski; let's look and see if we can't find her." But, though he looked long and searchingly, sight of his wife in the crowd on the pier he could find none.
"I say, Mr. Kaliski, but Rachael she will be all broke up ofer dis," he said dolefully. "But it can't be helluped, ain't it? Say, they'll pe openin' der bar in a minute; let's go get a drink."
"All right," said Cleek; and like this the episode closed.
FOR a long, long time after that drink had been partaken of
Mr. Isidor Kaliski and Mr. Solomon Rosenstein strolled the deck
together, indulging in a quiet chat and just such fictitious
"confidences" as they had indulged in on the way out to this land
they were now leaving; and indulging in them so whole-heartedly
that one of them, at least, did not take time to notice that the
light of Fire Island had long since lifted itself into view above
the gathering darkness, and that the other strollers and
chatterers on the promenade deck were interestedly regarding
another and more significant light which was bearing down on them
across the bows and coming through a cleft hill of up-thrown
froth toward the out-going vessel. That "one" was, of course, Mr.
Solomon Rosenstein; for Cleek had long since seen, long since
known, and had put himself in such a position that his body
intervened and kept the thing from sight until keeping it thus
was no longer possible. That time came when a siren toot-tooted
the government's "Heave to and make ready to be boarded" over the
intervening water; and Mr. Solly, glancing up in sudden
astonishment, saw a fleet-moving vessel with lights in its bow, a
gold eagle on its pilot house and a flag of blue spattered over
with three stars flapping in the breeze above it, coming head on
toward the Mauretania.
"Du lieber Gott! That's the custom house launch, ain't it?" he said, with a note of uneasiness in his voice. "For why should it come down on us? Oh, maybe it ain't. Maybe it's after something which has gone in pehind us, and they're signalling us to get out of the way."
And "maybe" that idea was as unsound as the hopes which inspired it, and which died a sudden death a minute or two later. For at the command the Mauretania did "heave to," and presently the revenue cutter slowed down its pace, glided alongside, caught the rope that was flung down to it, and before you could say Jack Robinson, lo! there were Mr. Samuel J. Swithers and two custom house officers climbing over the Mauretania's rail; and there was "Mr. Isidor Kaliski's" hand shutting upon his shoulder.
"Oh, I say, Mr. Kaliski, what's up?" he began; then stopped and made a sound as though all the breath had suddenly and entirely left his body.
"Nothing's up, Mr. Solly; it's all down, and you're down with it!" he said; then twitched up his chin and called to the hoarding officers: "Come along, Mr. Swithers. Here's Solly, and here's the end of the game. I said those diamonds would never leave the Mauretania in his possession, and they never have and never will."
"Diamonds! Whadye mean by diamonds?" bleated Mr. Solly. "You won't find no diamonds on me."
"No; but we'll find them on Mrs. Solly; and we'll put them into Mr. Swithers' hands inside of the next five minutes," said Cleek. "Good men those you sent me last night, Mr. Swithers; knew how to do their work, and did it neatly, too." Then he gave a crisp, three-noted whistle, and just as Mr. Solly was opening his mouth to bluster the thing out a woman's scream shut it up again; and, looking round, he saw a deck stateroom open, saw a couple of men garbed as sailors come into view, and there was Mrs. Solly struggling and sobbing in the grip of them. Her liege lord gave one little gulp and incontinently fainted.
"The lady's made of sterner stuff than her lord, gentlemen, but handle her gently. There's $150,000 worth of diamonds upon her person—if you haven't already relieved her of their care—and it would be a pity to lose a single one of them. Glad to see you again, Mr. Swithers, and sorry I had to keep you waiting so long. Couldn't help it, my dear sir. The following up of my theory necessitated a thorough search, and to make that I had to get out of sight as quickly as possible, adopt a totally different personality, and sail back with the Mauretania when she returned to Liverpool. Before she landed me there I knew that Solly's game was up for good and all, and I had those diamonds in my very hands."
"You had 'em? Had 'em, Cleek? Good lord! where were they?"
"Where they had been the whole time, Mr. Swithers—behind the wainscot of his stateroom. He never even tried to get them ashore whenever he brought the things over. He just removed a panel and put them behind it, let the steamer put back to Liverpool with the things still hidden in it, then engaged that same stateroom for her next sailing from America, and—there you are. When Mrs. Solly came down to see him off he simply removed the panel, gave her the diamonds, and when she went back home she took them with her."
"Well, I'll be double-dashed!"
"I hope not," said Cleek. "That little girl will need her daddy to look after her and her twelve thousand five hundred; and I hope for your sake, Mr. Swithers, that she will be a wonder."
Scene from the film "The Mystery of the Amsterdam Diamonds" (1914)
Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
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