Chapter II: Part 2

The partnership was then dissolved. Howell, who was the quietest and most level-headed of them, bought a large piece of land and took to sheep farming. In this way he was able to preserve his fortune and even to add to it, although he had not been one of the most fortunate.

On the other hand, Frick and Davis did not think they had enough. The money they had made enabled them to carry out a plan which Frick had thought of, and which for a long time they had been anxious to carry out.

In the middle of the thirties Frick, when quite a young man, had been in South Africa. He then followed the settlers who trekked to the north across the Orange River, and who had joined in raids across the river Vaal, and still farther to the north.

When on these expeditions Frick himself had found diamonds, and had heard wonderful stories from the natives of the great quantities of these stones which were to be found in caverns of a peculiar formation, reminding one more of deserted mines than anything else.

Frick had obtained the report through a source which did not admit of doubt that there was at least some truth in it; and the location given with regard to the place seemed to be efficient. But he could not then get any companions to form an expedition, as the supposed place lay far away in the desert, blocked by wild and hostile negro tribes. Nor had he at that time the means to fit out an expedition by himself, and he was therefore obliged to give up all thoughts of it. These were the diamonds in search of which Frick and Davis decided to go.

"Davis seemed to me to be just the right sort of a man," remarked old Frick, when he had gone thus far in his narrative; "he was at least double as greedy about finding the diamonds as I."

Now that they were able, the two companions journeyed at once to the Cape, bought themselves an excellent outfit, and hired people sufficient for a large expedition.

The money which they did not spend on the outfit they sent to the bank in London.

It was Davis who managed all that; he was the most businesslike of the two.

This expedition got as far as the Vaal, but did not return, and this is how it happened.

When they had got so far that, according to Frick's and Davis's calculations, they should be only a day's journey from the diamond caves, they let the natives, with the ox wagons, camp, while they themselves continued their journey alone.

They were lucky enough to find what Frick maintained must have been Solomon's deserted mines, and they filled a whole sack with diamonds. But when they reached the camp they found it had been plundered, and all the members of the expedition killed by a hostile negro tribe.

Frick and Davis were also captured after a hard struggle.

In the night Davis, who was uninjured, succeeded in escaping, but Frick, who had received an arrow in his thigh, could not follow him.

Davis, with Frick's consent, took with him the bag of diamonds, and promised immediately on reaching civilization to prepare a new expedition for the release of Frick.

In the meantime, the blacks dragged him with them farther and farther inland, where it was impossible for him to think of flight, and so he lived with them for three years.

At last a gang of European pioneers turned up far in the interior of the dark continent where the tribe lived, and before the blacks had thought of keeping guard on Frick, he had joined the whites and followed them to their own settlements.

In all probability the blacks had, after such a long time, come to look upon Frick as one of themselves.

When Frick reached civilization the first thing he did was to ask after his friend Davis.

Yes, he had returned safely to the Cape Colony, but had not mentioned a word about any relief expedition for Frick. On the contrary, he had given out that Frick was dead, and had gone straight to England. He had mentioned that he had some diamonds with him, but he had not shown them to any one.

Frick was not very well pleased with this information, as you can imagine. He still had a few small diamonds with him, which he had found during his stay among the blacks. These he sold for a couple of hundred pounds, and set out for England to find Davis.

Here he discovered that the latter had drawn all the money out of the bank, had sold all the diamonds, and having bought a large country estate, was now living, a landed proprietor, in Yorkshire. Frick set off to visit Davis at his country house, but was not even allowed to enter. Davis refused to deliver up any part whatsoever of the money that had been deposited in the bank, or any of that which he had received from the sale of the diamonds.

When Frick became furious and tried to force his way in to the scoundrel, he was turned away by the servants.

Frick then applied to the police, but they advised him to take legal proceedings. He would have to engage a lawyer in order to proceed against his old comrade.

It was not a difficult matter to find a lawyer, or even lawyers, but none of them would take up the case unless Frick would guarantee them their fees and expenses first. Davis was rich and powerful, and would naturally use all the weapons with which the English law so lavishly favours those who have few scruples and plenty of money.

Frick raged awhile like a lion in a cage, but happily he pulled himself together and shipped to Australia before he had become quite "mad from anger," as he expressed it himself.

In Australia he was well received by the third member of the late partnership, and when Howell got to learn of the story, he became just as furious over Davis's rascality as Frick himself. It was, however, an unfortunate period with Howell. His farm had just been visited by a huge flood, and the larger part of his flock of sheep had been drowned.

But Howell did not give in. He would not hear of Frick's remonstrances, but raised, with much difficulty, a loan of L5000 on his property. This money he forced upon Frick, and when the latter saw that his friend would not listen to reason, he no longer hesitated, but went back to England with the money.

There was now no difficulty in getting the affair taken up. A clever lawyer was engaged, and the case against Davis was carried on with all possible despatch.

Frick himself thought he should never succeed in bringing him to bay. Davis had understood how to make use of the time to guard himself well, and had employed all means to delay the case.

Frick's L5000 was fast disappearing, when his lawyer was fortunate enough to discover some dark doings in Davis's life before the time when Frick had learnt to know him.

These doings were of such a character that Davis, who in the meantime had been elected M.P. for his county, had to, at any price, prevent them being made public. He was therefore obliged to agree to a compromise, and to pay Frick half of what he was worth, which, after all, was only what was Frick's due.

"In the end, I got such a good hold of the rascal," continued old Frick, "that he not only offered to pay all I asked for, but he even wrote me a humble letter, and begged me, for God's sake, not to make the affair public. 'It would completely ruin him,' he wrote.

"As Davis had invested all the cash in his estate, it was difficult to get ready money. But the affair was at last settled, and I have not told the story to any one. I did not give any promise to this effect, but it's just as well that you, who have now heard it, also keep it quiet. If it can help the scoundrel to repent of his sins in peace and comfort for the rest of his days, it is no doubt the best.

"It was not possible to get your father, Mr. Reginald, to accept anything more than the L5000 he had lent me, although I was now much richer than he. No, he was as proud as Lucifer, just as proud as he was faithful."

With the exception of Mr. Howell, we had all listened with the greatest interest to old Frick's long story. In spite of Mr. Howell's good manners, his impatience had several times been noticeable, even to the story-teller himself.

The latter remarked: "Yes, you have, of course, heard the story several times before from your father, Reginald; so for your sake it was hardly necessary to tell it. But I am anxious that those who stand nearest to me in the world should know what a friend your father was to me."

Mr. Howell smiled, somewhat embarrassed; "Yes, of course, I have heard the story from my father two or three times. But you can understand he did not lay so much stress upon the help he gave you. It was no more, he said, than a man's duty to a friend; and that's what I think also."

"He is his father's son!" exclaimed old Frick, and was not satisfied until he had seized the Englishman's hand and shaken it vigorously, although the latter modestly tried to avoid it.

"Did you ever hear anything later about Davis?" he asked after a pause.

"No, not much!" answered old Frick. "He was already married when I took proceedings against him, but I don't think it was a very happy marriage; his wife took care to see that a good deal of the punishment he so well deserved was carried out. Later on, I also heard that he had much trouble in managing his large property, after he had been obliged to take out so much capital. Ah, well, that's his own lookout; we have, thank God, something else to talk about than that scoundrel. One thing, however, I forgot to mention, is, that when Davis was forced to pay me back half the money, I took the black diamond in its present setting, the one we call 'the tortoise.' I took that over for L2000, which would be about its value in its uncut condition. We found it, just as it is, up in Solomon's mines. It was the only one of the diamonds that Davis had not sold."

*CHAPTER IV*

*THE BLACK TORTOISE AGAIN*

I have little to relate about the months which followed after that Sunday at Mr. Frick's.

Young Mr. Howell still lived in the house; he took a fancy to "ski" sport, and learnt it in a surprisingly short time.

He accepted Frick's pressing invitation to remain in Christiania till the summer, when he intended visiting Finland and Spitsbergen.

Einar Frick and Reginald Howell became good friends, in spite of the difference in age, much to the satisfaction of old Frick. They were always together, and I fancy old Frick was not very strict during this time with regard to his nephew's office hours.

A detective, however, incidentally gets to know a good many things, and I soon discovered that the two young men did not always pursue the most innocent pleasures. Even in Christiania, there are always to be found at least a dozen young good-for-nothings, who have plenty of money and nothing to do. Einar and Mr. Reginald became regular visitors in this circle, where later it became the fashion to gamble, and not for very low stakes, either.

I became uneasy about this, and one day I spoke to Einar and gave him a serious warning.

By the young man's blushing and frank confession, I saw that he had not as yet entirely fallen a victim to evil influence. Besides, he added that he had latterly had more pocket money from his uncle, and didn't play higher than he could afford. Mr. Howell had several times prevented him from playing for high stakes. He also promised to withdraw altogether from the gambling circle, which Mr. Howell had said he also was inclined to do.

This reassured me, and on the whole I must confess that Mr. Howell's behaviour was in every respect that of a gentleman. That I, in spite of this, entertained a shadow of antipathy or suspicion about him, is one of those things which cannot be explained.

One thing I cannot pass over in my story: one fine day, when I summoned up courage and put the all-important question to Miss Frick, I received as satisfactory an answer as any man could wish.

She desired that we should, for a time, keep our engagement secret, for she shrunk from telling her uncle, who would scarcely take the prospect of losing her with composure. Old Frick was remarkably fond of his brother's children. The old man had lived his life for many years without having felt the sunshine of tenderness other than that of comradeship; now he seemed to be making up for it in the fond relations between him and the two young people who were tied to him by the ties of blood as well as by those of gratitude.

I have, all the same, a suspicion that the old fox had an idea of what had passed between Sigrid and me; and at the same time, I also think that I had been fortunate enough to win his respect, so that if he were to lose his niece, he would rather have given her to me than to any one else.

* * * * *

It was the tenth of May, and a beautiful day; the spring had come unusually early that year, and the trees were already covered with leaves.

My work was finished. It had been a long and troublesome day, and I was just standing in my room, wondering if, as a reward, I should give myself an evening off and spend it at Villa Ballarat. I had not had time to visit Sigrid for several days.

Just then I heard the telephone bell.

"Hello! is that you, Monk?"

It was old Frick's voice; I knew it well; it was the same voice that, eight months ago, had asked me for the first time to come to Villa Ballarat.

"Yes, it is I."

"Can you come out here at once? Something has happened!"

"I shall be with you in ten minutes."

At St. Olaf's Place I took a carriage; I didn't want to lose a minute.

An uncomfortable feeling possessed me that some misfortune was pending, or had already occurred. I do not know if one can really have a presentiment without some material cause; in this case the feeling had sufficient ground by old Frick's abrupt message.

At the outer gate stood Frick himself, holding it open for me. He locked the gate carefully after us, stuck the key in his pocket, and then said, as he stopped in front of me, with his hands in his pockets:--

"The black tortoise is gone again!"

"Gone?"

"Yes, gone! Stolen, I say," and he raised his voice.

I asked him not to speak so loudly and to explain the matter. It was a relief for me to hear that it was nothing worse. Little did I suspect that anything worse could have happened.

"There is no one about who can hear us," said Frick. "It is as I say; the black tortoise has been stolen again, and within the last few hours. Since five o'clock."

I looked at my watch; it was exactly twenty-five minutes to eight.

"How can you be sure it happened after five o'clock? Didn't the black tortoise lie in the case with the iron shutters, in the museum?"

"Yes, of course; but now you shall hear. Old Jurgens, the lawyer, you know him, of course? He who has that collection of curios, the old idiot! Well, he dined with us, and afterward we drank our coffee out in the museum, as we often do. At five o'clock Jurgens left, and we all went over to the house. For some reason, as I shall presently explain, I forgot to lock the door of the museum and cupboard. In about half an hour's time I suddenly remembered this. I then had a look into the cupboards before I locked them, and so discovered that the tortoise was gone."

"Are you sure it was there at five o'clock?"

"Yes; we had been looking at it just before we all left the museum; I was the last who went out, and I had put it in its place before I left."

"Have you told any one that the tortoise is gone?"

"No; the first thing I did when I was sure of what had happened was to telephone to you; since then I have watched and seen that no one has gone in or out of the gate."

A long life rich in changes and events had taught this old man expediency and presence of mind.

He had done just the right thing, and his information and answers were clearer than nine-tenths of those which detectives are accustomed to get under similar conditions.

"Is Miss Sigrid, or your nephew, at home?"

"No, Einar went to Hamburg on business for me the day before yesterday; he will be there about a week, and Sigrid went for a walk about half an hour ago. It was while accompanying her to the gate that I came to remember the door of the museum wasn't locked."

"Haven't you missed anything else in the museum but the tortoise?"

"Not so far as I can see; in any case, there are still a number of small and costly articles which would be much easier to turn into ready money than the tortoise. It could not have been any ordinary thief, or if so, it must have been an unusually stupid one!"

"Has the black tortoise any special value to you or to any one else apart from the worth of the gold and the stone?"

"No, that I can gladly swear! You mean, I suppose, is there anything about this diamond, as one reads of in the English detective stories, where black and yellow people sneak about with daggers in their belts and vengeance in their eyes! No! there is nothing of that kind in this case. We found it in the cavern, as I told you, together with all the other diamonds. Man had not set foot there for thousands of years; and the negroes who live thereabouts do not care a fig for diamonds. For that reason they let Davis keep the bag, which he took with him when he escaped in the night. It is only when negroes have learned to know the blessing of civilization that they get a taste for diamonds."

"One thing must be done," I said, "while it is yet light. Will you take care that no one passes in or out through the gate, while I meanwhile find out if any one has got into the garden over the railing?"

As already mentioned, the whole of Frick's property, which was about three or four acres and laid out in a garden, was closed in by a high iron railing.

The distance between the rails was so little that even a child could not squeeze himself through. It was not altogether improbable, though difficult enough, that a daring and agile man might have climbed over the railings, notwithstanding the spikes.

It was, however, easy to find out if any one had got over in that way. It had lately rained a good deal, and the ground on either side of the railing was soft. Any footstep would therefore leave a trace, especially on the outer side, where there was a newly ploughed field.

I went all round the garden; no one had come that way.

Old Frick was patrolling to and fro at the gate, when I returned.

"Nobody has got over the fence to-day," said I.

"No," he answered thoughtfully; "that has been my belief the whole time. I fear that we must have thieves in the house,--but here comes Sigrid!"

He was quite right, for there was the dear girl walking at a rapid pace toward the gate.

A warm blush overspread her face when she saw me, but it disappeared quickly, and I noticed she looked very pale and fatigued.

We opened the gate for her, and I gave a sign, to Frick that I wished first to speak with her.

I went up to her, took her hand, and whispered some words which had nothing to do with the theft. Then, as we came nearer her uncle, I remarked aloud and as carelessly as possible:--

"Your uncle cannot find the black tortoise; he thinks he must have mislaid it in some place or another."

I said this purposely to arouse her attention, in case the diamond really had been mislaid. I was afraid that if I mentioned at once that it might have been stolen, she would have become too excited to think quietly over the matter.

"But, dear me, isn't it in the cupboard? I myself saw you put it in its place before we followed Mr. Jurgens through the garden."

I could not help noticing that Sigrid spoke in a very absent-minded manner; she looked fagged out, like a person who had gone through some physical or mental exertion.

We told her not to mention anything for the present to the servants about the disappearance of the diamond, and then she left us and went into the house. It struck me as remarkable that the affair should interest her so little.

The next thing I did was to telephone to the police station, and order two of my men to come out immediately to Villa Ballarat. I then asked old Frick to take a walk with me in the garden until they arrived; in this way we could see that nobody went in or out of the house without our knowledge.

"Where is Mr. Howell?" I asked. I suddenly began to wonder why I had not seen or heard anything of this gentleman.

"Oh, he went by rail to Osterdalen this afternoon. He was invited by a man called Varingson, I think, who owns large forests up there. They are going to shoot capercailzie; it is only four days, I think he said, before close time begins."

"What time in the afternoon did he go?"

"He had sent his luggage down to the station before mid-day; but the train was not going before six or seven. We can hear from Iverson when he left. Besides, you know, everybody goes and comes as they like in this house."

Iverson was Frick's trusted man; he was formerly a sergeant in the army, an unusually trustworthy and clever fellow, whom Frick had taken into his service at my recommendation. He was generally known as the gardener, but he took his turn as gatekeeper, and with the coachman he kept the yard in order; was joiner, smith, and many other things, and received from old Frick a very liberal salary. Both he and the coachman were unmarried; they lived in quite a small lodge near the gate, but had their meals up at the house.

In the meantime my two men arrived at the gate, and I gave them my instructions. One of them was to keep watch outside the villa and arrange that he should be relieved, so that the house and garden should not be unwatched. If the diamond was still within the iron railings, the thief would at once try to get it out of the house.

The other constable got orders to instruct pawnbrokers and all others to whom the diamond might be offered that, should this occur, they must inform the police without loss of time, and that the person bringing it must be followed and watched.

At supper I received a long detailed account from old Frick and Sigrid of all that occurred in the house that day. Their statement as to time, etc., corroborated exactly. Sigrid had, however, a bad headache, and looked very poorly. Both Frick and I advised her to go to bed, which she did, soon after.

Then I had a conference with Iverson. The coachman was away for the day.

Lastly, I had a talk with the housemaid and cook. Sigrid's maid, Evelina, had been away that afternoon to visit her mother. She had, however, been at Villa Ballarat about six o'clock, but had gone out again immediately, and not yet returned.

What results or conjectures I arrived at after all these investigations, I shall later on return to; for the present, I can only add they were not very satisfying; I began to be afraid that this affair would cause me more trouble and worry than any other business of the kind had hitherto done.

Before I parted from old Frick I got him to write an official notification of the robbery to the police; without this I could not take up the case in earnest.

*CHAPTER V*

*AT THE POLICE STATION*

The next morning at eleven o'clock I stood in the police superintendent's office; he had told me to be there at that hour.

I had, for some weeks, figured as chief of the detective department, during my superior's holiday. The latter was applying for a position in another department, and I had had the chief superintendent's assurance that I would be appointed in his place. "I have already spoken to the Minister of the Interior about it, and you can consider the matter as good as settled," were the words with which my superior officer, some days before, had concluded a conversation which had given me great satisfaction. It was soon after I had been fortunate enough in clearing up the celebrated Bjornernd case, and in getting the murderer arrested.

My chief had always been very friendly to me, and treated me, especially of late, almost as a comrade; that is to say, as far as his old-fashioned dignified and solemn manners would allow of it.

He shook me by the hand as soon as I came in, and said:--

"Good morning, take a seat." He beckoned to a constable, standing stiffly in a corner, who then pushed a large armchair toward me. "You can go into the anteroom for the present, Strukstad; I have something to talk over with Mr. Monk.

"You are a lucky fellow, Monk, to have got another interesting affair in hand. I mean the diamond robbery at old Frick's, in Drammen Road. If I know you rightly, you have already made up your mind about the case. From what I have heard you are a friend of the family. Indeed, if I am not very much mistaken, it is not only the diamond which attracts you to the house."

I must confess I was much surprised that my chief should know a secret which I, like all other people in love, believed to be well guarded.

Naturally, I did not enter upon that part of the story, neither did my superior seem to expect it; but I began, as shortly and briefly as possible, to explain to him a little about the state of affairs in the house, and among the occupants.

I afterward gave him an account of the previous day's events.

"As you may know, sir, there was a guest at the house yesterday to dinner. It was old Jurgens, the lawyer; you know him, his collection and his mania for collecting! I have heard that his relations are trying to prove that he is incapable of looking after his own affairs. He is getting imbecile from old age, and is squandering his large fortune by buying up all the world's curios.

"But he is still sharp enough not to let any one pawn off any trash upon him; but if there is an object of real value, one way or another, then he will pay the largest sums without blinking.

"He dined with old Frick. He came, of course, only to see his collection, and he nearly worried the life out of Frick with his importunate requests to be allowed to buy this and that.

"The party at dinner consisted of Jurgens, Frick, Miss Frick, and Mr. Howell. Young Frick had gone away two days before. There were in the house, besides, the cook, the housemaid, and the gardener. The coachman was on a visit to his family at Moss. I have already telephoned to the police there and ascertained that he reached there in the morning and left by the evening train at eight o'clock.

"Miss Frick's maid, Evelina, was also away during the afternoon; she had got permission to go home to her mother, who was ill.

"After dinner they all went into the museum, as the people of the house call the building which I told you about some time ago,--the one which Mr. Frick, upon my advice, had erected out in the garden between the main building and the Drammen Road.

"When they have guests at Villa Ballarat, it is often the custom to serve the coffee in the museum, especially when the guests wish to see the curiosities.

"Jurgens, the lawyer, had then for the twentieth time asked to see the black tortoise, and was persistently pressing Frick to sell it him.

"'I will pay L500 cash for it!' shouted the old man.

"'In the first place it is worth four times as much, my dear Jurgens,' old Frick had replied, 'and besides, I wouldn't sell it at any price.'

"Jurgens then had to relinquish all hopes of obtaining the diamond; but he continued asking to be allowed to buy some of the other curiosities. He was especially struck with a little elephant carved in ivory with a clock in its forehead. The clock-works lie in the animal's body, and the trunk acts as the pendulum. The swinging backward and forward of the trunk has a most comical effect.

"He had no better success with the elephant than he had had with the tortoise; and it was rather a relief to the family when the tiresome old man was taken away by his servant. You know he has some difficulty in walking, and has to be carried about in a wheeled chair, pushed by his servant.

"Frick said good-by to Mr. Jurgens, and was just going to lock the cases, after having put everything in its place, when a cry was heard outside.

"The clumsy servant, who had apparently been drinking, had nearly upset the old man on to one of the flower beds.

"All rushed out from the museum into the garden.

"After having got Mr. Jurgens righted again, and safely outside the gate, they all went into the house. Thus it came about that old Frick forgot to lock both the cupboard with the iron shutters and the door to the museum.

"It was then exactly five o'clock in the afternoon.

"Old Frick went up to his room and took his after-dinner nap. Miss Sigrid went out for a walk; she had been suffering from headache the whole day.

"At six o'clock they met again; she had been back a quarter of an hour, and awaited her uncle with afternoon tea in the sitting-room.

"The two sat together till seven o'clock, drank tea, and went through Sigrid's household accounts.

"At seven the young girl went again for a little walk, as her headache was no better.

"When Frick had seen her to the gate, he suddenly remembered that the door of the museum was not locked, and then he made the discovery that the diamond was gone.

"The gate-keeper Iverson had spent the time between five and half-past seven in the little lodge; he had been busy with some carpentering, and stood at the windows, which looked out on the gate and the road.

"I asked him if any one had passed in or out during that time. The key to the gate hung in the room where he was working, and he had himself let every one in and out.

"Yes, first there was Miss Sigrid, who went out at five and came home in about half an hour or three quarters.

"About six Evelina came home, but went out again at about half-past six.

"About seven o'clock Mr. Howell went out; he had a gun and game-bag, and took a four-wheeler which was passing at the time.

"Soon after, Miss Sigrid again went out, accompanied to the door by Mr. Frick.

"The cook and the housemaid had been in the kitchen or their bedroom the whole time."

"I must say yours is a model of a preliminary report, Mr. Monk; you seem to have got it all by heart, and not even to have made any notes."

"I believe I have a special talent in that respect, sir. I only get confused, if I take down anything except what is absolutely necessary. I can see it much clearer when I've got it in my head."

"Yes, oh yes, each one has his own method! It is at any rate a very useful talent for a detective. But tell me one thing; how can you be so sure that the different times you mention are correct? It is not always that the people in a house are so exact in regard to time."

"As it happens, my statements have been confirmed on that point. Old Frick has a remarkably good pocket chronometer, and he takes a pride in always keeping it correct to the minute.

"Just before Jurgens left, a remark was made how correctly the little watch in the elephant's head kept time. It stands on a shelf just over the cupboard where the diamond had its place. Although it had not been regulated for a long while, it showed the right time to a minute; which was verified by comparing it with the chronometer.

"And thus we have a safe starting-point: the time was five minutes past five.

"Then Mr. Frick takes his afternoon tea precisely at six each day. The servants have got into the habit of being most exact in that respect, as the old man is very particular.

"Finally, Iverson looked at the clock when Mr. Howell left, to see if he would be in time for the train. Mr. Howell had made the remark as he was passing out that the time was ten minutes to seven, which agreed exactly with Iverson's watch.

"As you see, the different times which I have mentioned cannot be far wrong--not more than a minute or two."

"Yes, I see that. I suppose your inquiries at the pawnbrokers' and jewellers' have been so far without result?"

"Yes; up till now they have led to no result, and I think they never will."

The superintendent nodded. Neither of us said as much, but we were both agreed that the thief who could steal an article like the tortoise, which would be so difficult to dispose of, whilst he had plenty of other salable articles to select from, must have had his special reasons, and would not have rushed to his own destruction by trying to dispose of the stolen jewel to a pawnbroker.

"Of course I know," said the superintendent, cheerily, "that you haven't by a long way finished with your investigations. But it would really be interesting to make a few guesses as to who could have taken the diamond. Who can have taken it, do you think?"

I saw that my august superior wanted to discuss the case; and I could not refuse, although I had no mind for it at this stage of the inquiry.

"As far as I can see," I answered, "there are only five persons who could have taken the diamond; the gardener Iverson, Mr. Howell, the maid Evelina, the cook, or the housemaid. All these people had the entry to the garden between five and half past-seven, and also into the museum."

"You forget two people, Mr. Monk."

I stared at him.

"You forget old Frick and Miss Frick."

The superintendent smiled, and I tried also, but it was a sorry attempt, and a most unpleasant feeling crept over me.

The superintendent evidently took notice of this.

"Yes, I speak, of course, from quite a theoretical standpoint. It is part of a policeman's ABC that he must suspect every one as long as the guilty party is not discovered."

"Not every one, sir!" I felt I spoke with an earnestness which was not in harmony with the situation, or with the genial tone of my superior; but I could not get rid of the unpleasant feeling which the mentioning of Sigrid's name had caused me.

"Perhaps you are right, Mr. Monk; in any case, this will not prove the opposite. But tell me, what is really your opinion of Mr. Howell?"

It was obvious that the superintendent wanted to get away as quickly as possible from the subject, which I had been foolish enough to discuss in rather a disagreeable manner, and I felt not a little ashamed of my want of tact.

"It is only right, sir, that you should direct my attention to him. From five o'clock till ten minutes to seven he had the opportunity of taking possession of the diamond and getting away with it from the house. There would be no risk for him to enter the museum; if any of the servants had seen him do it, it would have attracted no attention; he is just like a member of the Frick family.

"That is one side of the case; the other side is that Mr. Howell in every respect gives the impression of being a gentleman, that he is tied by the bond of friendship to the Frick family, and finally that pecuniarily he is so situated that he need not steal either diamonds or anything else."

"Are you sure of this?"

"Yes; I go by what he and old Frick have said; besides, at half-past nine this morning, I called on Wendel, the banker. I myself recommended this highly respected firm to Mr. Howell, and I asked the chief, quite confidentially, how Mr. Howell's account stood.

"He informed me that the latter at the present moment had from three to four hundred pounds standing to his account. It was the remainder of a sum of money he had brought with him in cash and deposited with the banker; besides which, instructions had been received from Messrs. Hambeo and Son, the London bankers, to open an account for Mr. Howell to the amount of two thousand pounds."

"Well, I should be glad if I had such an account at the bank! It does not seem probable that the Englishman should have taken the diamond. By the bye, Mr. Monk, I must not detain you any longer; go on with the matter as you yourself think best; you have, of course, not had much time for inquiries, and I ought, perhaps, not to have been so inquisitive at such an early stage of the investigations; but you must rather look upon our conversation as a kind of refreshment, which I take between the dustbins and the demonstration in the theatre. Well, good luck to you, and let me hear from you as soon as you have anything of interest to report."

The superintendent shook me by the hand.

"Strukstad, let the manager of the theatre come in," he said resignedly, as I went out at the back door.

Later in the day a letter was handed me from the superintendent, marked "Private," which read as follows:--

DEAR MR. MONK,--I have not been able to dismiss old Frick's diamond from my mind. Couldn't it have been lost in quite an ordinary way; fallen on the floor, put on a wrong shelf, or in some such way got astray?

One might also imagine that some one for fun has hidden it, to play old Frick a trick.

I confess it is not likely, but it is still more unlikely that any one should have stolen it--the most unsalable article of all the valuables which you say lay in that cupboard.

I ask you to take this into consideration, and apply the greatest caution in your investigations.

The disappearance of the diamond will soon be the general talk of the town.

It is of the greatest importance that the police should not make fools of themselves. That is to say, they must not let themselves be deceived by people's extraordinary stupidity.

I know your good sense, and in all probability these lines are superfluous.

Yours, etc.

*CHAPTER VI*

*A MORNING VISIT*

I did not forget the superintendent's good advice. Immediately after the disappearance of the diamond I searched the whole of Villa Ballarat most carefully.

The servants behaved with exemplary resignation, and offered to open all their trunks. I even took the liberty of searching Mr. Howell's rooms. All his drawers and trunks were open, but contained nothing of interest. My investigations also made it clear that this gentleman had proceeded direct to the station on the day the diamond disappeared, and from there took the train to Elverum.

I don't know how it was, but I always had a misgiving that this young Englishman might have had something to do with the disappearance of the diamond. This, perhaps, was the reason that made me feel, more acutely than ever, that not one of us really knew the young man, in spite of his having been several months in Villa Ballarat. His manners were free and open; but--one did not learn to know him.

I soon placed Iverson, the gardener, the cook, and the housemaid _hors de concours_. Iverson had for many years shown himself to be a most respectable and reliable person. He was a bachelor, had a nice little sum in the bank, and it was easy to find out about his antecedents. He was the son of well-to-do peasants in Smaalenene, and when quite young had gone into the non-commissioned officers' school and followed a military career, until he entered Frick's service. He had always borne a most irreproachable character.

Last of all, we now come to the lady's-maid, Evelina; and should you have a suspicion that she is likely to play an important part in the lamentable events which now followed, one upon the other, you will not be far wrong.

From the first, or, more correctly, from the second day I entered old Frick's house, this young girl had struck me as being strange. There was something mysterious about her, perhaps on account of her reserved and even sulky manners.

Sigrid also considered her unusually silent, more so by nature than most young girls are. She thought that she was a girl of strong character, and liked her, in spite of her reticent ways.

During the latter days she had been still more reserved than before, and had not given one the impression of being in good health, although there was little change noticeable in her appearance on account of her naturally pale complexion.

The afternoon of the disappearance of the diamond, Evelina had spent in the following manner (her explanation tallied exactly with that of others): She had, soon after dinner, when the family had retired to the museum, served the coffee there. When that was finished, she had left Villa Ballarat to visit her sick mother, just before the time Jurgens had left the house. At six o'clock she had returned to the villa again to fetch something she had forgotten, and had, at the same time, put on another dress on account of a change in the weather; but she had been scarcely half an hour in the house.

It struck me as strange that Evelina had suddenly become more lively than I had ever seen her, and Sigrid also thought that she looked better and more cheerful since the day when the diamond disappeared.

As regards Evelina's mother, Madame Reierson, I found out that she made her living by washing and ironing, and by letting a couple of her rooms; but it was said that she was fond of drink, and that her principal income evidently consisted in what her daughter allowed her. Miss Frick's generosity no doubt enabled Evelina to give her mother considerable help.

Madame Reierson's specialty lay in talking of times gone by, when Reierson was alive and was a well-to-do turner in Groenland; "she too had had her own house and a horse and trap."

As you see, I had not gained much by my investigations, but my opinion regarding the loss of the diamond had, however, begun to take shape, which made it desirable that I should make Madame Reierson's acquaintance.

* * * * *

At half-past nine the next morning, when the May sun was shining warmly, a gentleman entered the courtyard of 44 Russeloek Street.

The gentleman was not very elegantly dressed; his coat was somewhat shabby, and his trouser-bottoms a little the worse for wear, but still he might pass as quite a respectable person; for instance, as a poor theological student of middle age.

I hoped, at least, that my appearance was something like this, for this was the role I intended to play.

In the courtyard a woman was standing rinsing clothes under a pump. I asked for Madame Reierson, and learned that she was living in the fourth story on the right-hand side of the staircase.

"I mean the woman who takes in washing."

"Well, I don't think there's much washing done, but there's only one Madame Reierson in this house, at any rate," was the surly answer.

"I think you're right about the washing. In any case, the clothes I last got home were only half washed," I remarked.

My depreciatory remark about her neighbour's work evidently appealed to the woman; she deigned to let go the wet clothes she had in her hand, and turned round to me.

"Ah, indeed! Really! So she has been washing for you, has she, and you don't like her washing? Well, you're not the first as says that. It's a shame that such a drunken wretch should take the bread out of other people's mouths, and live in grand style, and enjoy herself."

"Well, I, for my part, have been thinking of giving her up as my washerwoman."

"Ha! ha! you give her up?" said the worthy woman, with a scornful laugh. "A lot she'll care about that! As long as she's got that fine daughter of hers in service at old Frick's, in the Drammen Road, she can live in grand style, and enjoy herself without washing a rag. But I should say it'll all come to a terrible end some day; when people begin to run after them actors I wouldn't give you a thank you for 'em!"

And with that our short but pleasant conversation ended.

I tried to find out a little more about the actor who had suddenly been introduced upon the scene, but I was sharply sent about my business by the woman, who "did not go about telling tales, let alone to strangers."

There was nothing more to be done, so I mounted up to the fourth story.

On a door with glass panes were fastened two visiting-cards. I read: Ludwig Frederiksen, actor; Tho. Herstad, medical student.

To the left I found an ordinary kitchen door. As I knocked at this a stout woman appeared. Madame Reierson was clad in what I would call a simple morning toilet. I can hardly describe the various articles of her dress; all of them, however, appeared to be too tight-fitting for her buxom figure, and to have seen better days.

I lifted my large, broad-brimmed, low-crowned, clerical hat to her, and then explained that the object of my visit was to ask madame to do some washing for me.

She seemed greatly surprised that any one, unsolicited, should intrust his clothes to her to wash, and asked rather suspiciously who had recommended her.

"Perhaps we might go inside," said I. "I would like to sit down a little. I'm not quite well, and the stairs trouble me."

She mumbled something about "_she_ didn't mind," and showed me through the kitchen into a disorderly room, filled with foul air. This served as her parlour and her bedroom.

I sat down heavily and laid my hand on my heart.

She didn't seem, however, to be troubled with any sympathetic feelings, for I heard her mumble something about, "Why do folks climb stairs when they can't manage 'em?"

"But who has shown you up to me, then," she continued.

I could see it would be difficult for me, if not impossible, to get into conversation with this unpleasant woman, as she apparently had not yet had her "morning drop," and was therefore not amenable to any friendly approach.

I decided to come to the point at once.

"Miss Frick has recommended me to come to you, as I wanted a good washerwoman,--Miss Frick, who lives in Drammen Road."

The woman sat herself down in a chair right opposite me, and looked rather astonished.

"Do you go to the Fricks'?--You?" was the unflattering answer, as she critically surveyed me.

I regretted the plain attire, which I had thought would be suitable for my supposed errand; but there was no help for that now; I had to get along as best I could.

"I am studying for the church," I said with dignity, "and I am secretary to the women's mission, and we generally have the committee meetings at Miss Frick's."

"Oh, indeed! Really!" Suddenly there was a gleam in the woman's eyes. She had evidently got an idea into her head, because from that moment her manner was affable and insinuating.

"Oh, indeed! Now really! So you are going to be a parson? That was what our eldest son was also to be. Reierson wanted him to become a doctor, but I swore that he should become a parson. Well, I expect you meet a lot of grand ladies there, then! Have you seen my daughter at Miss Frick's?"

"What, your daughter?"

"Oh, well; that's no matter;" she evidently did not find it very opportune to say anything about her daughter, since I myself didn't appear to know her position in Frick's house. "But as you go to old Frick's, you have, of course, heard summat of his big diamond which he has lost."

I knew, of course, that the town had already begun to talk of the diamond affair, but it came quite unexpectedly upon me to hear this woman talking of it. Did she want to know what suspicions they had at Frick's house? Did she know anything about it? Had she her own suspicions, or was it only curiosity?

"Yes, fortunately, they have got hold of the thief."

"No! now you don't say so!"

Just at this interesting point of the conversation we heard the kitchen door open.

Madame Reierson left me, and quickly disappeared.

Then began a lively conversation in almost a whisper, but the door was rickety and my hearing sharp; it was Madame Reierson's voice and another woman's voice. I recognized it; it was her daughter's.

"--Not home?--not come home yet, do you say?--been out the whole night--"

I heard the mother mumble something, that "he" must soon come home.

"And he has not even left any message? He promised that I should meet him at ten o'clock to-day.--A strange gentleman, do you say, whom Miss Frick has recommended to come to you--?"

The mother must have spoken of my presence, but the daughter seemed to have a legitimate suspicion about the recommendation from Miss Frick. Perhaps she was inquisitive, and wanted to see the phenomenon who came to Madame Reierson with his washing; for the door immediately opened, and I stood face to face with Evelina, the lady's-maid.

She stood there, tall and erect, pretty and tastefully dressed as usual. When she recognized me, her pale face became still paler, and it seemed to me she tottered a little. She only pressed her thin lips together and looked calmly at me.

"Are you here? I did not know the police were here." She looked at my garb and smiled a little scornfully.

At these words, Madame Reierson forced herself past her daughter and surveyed me angrily.

"Police, do you say? Does he belong to the police? Well, I might have guessed it, since he sneaked in here and began to talk of the stolen diamond and suchlike."

I looked at the daughter, but her features were immovable. Either she had nothing to do with the diamond robbery, or she had a stronger will power than most people.

"You forget, Madame Reierson," said I, "that it was you who began to talk to me of the robbery at Mr. Frick's."

Was I mistaken, or was it really so? It seemed to me that the young girl's look was directed for a second or two at her mother with great displeasure.