A Detective's Note=book.

Free Lance, Volume I, Issue 41, 13 April 1901, Page 19

A Detective's Note=book.

THE queerest things that happen never find their way into the new spapers It is difficult to say w hy , perhaps it is because they are too queer. For instance, I doubt if you have ever heard ot a strange incident that happened only a season or two ago in that select section or the fashionable world known as "society. A lady of title, Lady Barmouth, lequested me to call on her one morning about the beginning ot June, the London season being then at its height. "I want to help you, Mr. Lowe, she began, and then stopped awkwardly. "Perhaps, you are not aware that at several balls and dinner parties this season there have been jewels and ornaments stolen. It has, of course, caused a great deal of unpleasantness. In several cases trinkets have been actually taken from the wearers without their knowing how it was done or who did it." , I had heard several wild tales ot articles having been nussed at fashionable gatherings, and there was much speculation as to who was the culprit. The articles were not, as a rule, of immense value, and they always disappeared singly, consequently no public notice had been directed to the matter. In one or two cases the police had been consulted, but it was impossible for them to help. There could be no doubt that the thief was a person who mixed in society as an equal, probably a woman who had allowed her love of jewellery to tempt her to dishonesty "I presume, then, that the— er— thief is a guest — a person in society ?" I said, inquiringly. "I am afraid so. Two or three things were missed at a dance which I gave last week. Now, lam giving another dance next Thursday, and I am, of course, most anxious it should not occur aeam, at any rate in my house. I thought I would engage your services for the evening, to see if you detect anvthmg suspicious. Of course, you would be treated as a guest." We made arrangements about terms, and it was agreed that I should be introduced as an American, by name Captain Burke. "I suppose, Lady Barmouth," I said, carelessly, "you don't suspect anybody m particular?" "Oh, no," she said, but I noticed what I thought was a look of anxiety on her face, and made a mental note of it. As I was leaving, Lady Barmouth said "Of course, Mr. Lowe, you quite understand, there must be no exposure If you make any discoveries, they must be treated as secrets. I can't have a scene of any kmd. It must be hushed up." I returned to the office, .impressed with two ideas. First, that my task was one of those delicate cases that require all your tact and yield very little credit. Secondly, that Lady Barmouth knew more — at any rate, gue&sed more, than she cared to tell. Thursday evening arrived, and I went to Menon House. Practically my duty was to mingle with the guests, enjoy myself, and keep my eyes wide open. Nothing seemed to be more improbable than that there should bo a thief among the brilliant throne that crowded the rooms. Everything was conducted in the most sumptuous and luxurious style, a Hungarian band discoursed the sweete&t of dance music, and the guests were among the highest in the land For a long while nothing occurred of the smallest significance. But at about 2 o'clock in the morning, when I was sitting in a snug corner of the conservatory, where cigarette smoking was peimitted, I noticed a couple take up a position in the opposite corner They were both young, and evidently very much in love with one another The girl was handsomely dressed, and wore some valuable jewels. In particular, I noticed a pair of diamond eardrops, which had just come into fashion again. Without being a connoisseur of precious stones, I understand them well enough to know that they were very valuable indeed, and likely to be worth several hundred pounds. These two young people were sitting out during a dance, and they flirted all through a set of lancers, without any impatience at their length. At last they got up and went into the ballroom again On the chair where the girl had been sitting lay something shining. I strolled across and examined it. It was her vinaigret, which she had probably left there by accident. I replaced it, thinking it might serve as a, trap for our fashionable thief, if he were in the neighbourhood, and withdrew to my corner, where I was almost invisible. Presently an old gentleman strolled out to smoke a cigarette. He was a tall, handsome, intellectual - looking man, with the air of the true aristocrat. His name I did not know , but I had noticed him chatting with the guests. He was evidently known to every one, and was a man of social importance.

Suddenly Jus eye caught the little jewelled vmaigret. He looked carelessly round the conservatory, to see if he were observed, and picked it up. He now had his back to me. I was on the point of stepping up to him, when he turned round and replaced the vmaigret, and walked quietly away. It was lucky I had not moved. I should have looked rather foolish. Some curious instinct bade me cross the conservatory and look at the vmaigret again. Without thinking about it, I put it to my nose. The next thing I remember is, that I found myself sitting in a chair. Gradually things became clearer. The vmaigret lay by my side. I was drugged. For a few minutes I had lost consciousness. I still felt dizzy and sick, but knowing that everything depended on my being prompt and acute, I managed, with an effort, to pull myself together. Then arose the question What should Ido next p Should Igo straight to the man who had tampered with the vinaigret p A moment's thought showed me that that would be worse than useless I had no nroof of anything. The situation must be allowed to develop itself before I interfered. After some little reflection, I decided to go back to the drawing-room, where I could see what was going on. Under any circumstances I must not lose sight of the girl to whom the vmaigret belonged. For nearly half an hour I w aited in vain. She danced with two or three different men, but did not seem to have missed it. At last, after one of the dances, she appeared to be looking for something. With what was, I presume, an apology to her partner, she skipped across the room to a group of girls. Evidently she was asking if any of them had seen her yinaigret. For some time she got no information, but presently a girl who was passing leaning on a man's arm, turned round and made some remark, pointing with her fan to the conservatory door. The owner of the vinaigret gave a little nod of thanks, and hurried across the room. All this time I observed that the man who had drugged the scent bottle, and who was chatting with some of the people standing about, watched the girl closely. As soon as she had left the drawingroom he broke off his conversation, and strolled quietly toward the conservatory. As he passed through the curtains I noticed that he glanced round to see if he were being followed. That settled it, I had found my man, and must act promptly. Lady Barmouth was standing near the piano. Remembering her injunctions that there was not, under any circumstances, to be an expose or a scene, it was necessary to proceed with caution. I caught her eye without much difficulty. She understood at once that I had something to say, and disengaged herself from her friends. "Will you come with me to the conservatory?" I said, quietly. "I believe I have solved the mystery." She turned pale. "Very well," she said "Give me your arm. Be careful what you do, Mr. Lowe," she added in a troubled voice. "It must be hushed up." When we reached the conservatory we found, just as I had expected, the ■\ oung lady lying back in a chair unconscious. Her ear-drops were missing. "Miss Dainton has fainted," said Lady Barmouth. "One moment," I said, "there is no cause for alarm. Do you see what has happened p Her diamond ear-drops have disappeared." "Do you know who it is?" she whispered. "Yes. Her vmaigret has been drugged — not sufficiently to do her any harm. I saw it done." "What shall I do ? Fetch Lord Barmouth, will you 9 He must advise me " "Which is Lord Barmouth ? " She came to the curtains, and pointed him out to me. "Very well," said I "Chafe Miss Dainton's hands, and try to bring her around, but don't send for help at present." I don't think I ever felt so reluctant to proceed with a case as I did at that minute. The man whom Lady Barmouth had pointed out as her husband was the man who had drugged the vmaigret — who had followed Miss Dainton into the conservatory. In a word, Lord Barmouth was a kleptomaniac. "Will you come with me into the conscivatory Lord Barmouth l3 " I said As I spoke I looked him sternly in the face He turned deathly white, and his eyes shifted nervously about the room . "What's the matter?" he said huskily. "Is anything wrong?" "Miss Dainton has fainted." "Oh," ho murmured, with rohef.

"And her ear-drops have disappeared," I added. For a moment I thought he was going to drop down. I put my arm through his, and led him towards the conservatory. He was trembling like a leaf. When he got well into the shadow of the curtains I stopped. "Lord Barmouth," I said, quietly, "take my advice and give them up to me at once." "What do you mean?" he said, hoarsely. "The ear-drops. It will prevent a scene." He put a trembling hand into the breast pocket of his dresscoat, and gave me the ear-drops. He did it like a man in a dream, and I really believe that for the time being he was unconscious. Then he turned away, and left the drawing-room hurriedly. "Will he not come?" said Lady Barmouth with an awful look of terror in her eyes. "Lord Barmouth is not well," I replied. "Here are the ear-droos." The poor woman went scarlet. She knew what I meant, and I was deeply grieved for her. From the first she must have had a faint suspicion of the truth, and was anxious to save him from public disgrace and scandal.

She was thoroughly unnerved. Miss Dainton showed signs of returning consciousness. "Now," I said, "put the ear-drops back into her ears. She won't know what has happened." Lady Barmouth replaced them with trembling fingers. "Send someone to look after the girl. I'll stop with her till help comes. But you must go and find your husband. Make haste," I added, significantly, "or you will be too late." My work was not quite over. When Lady Barmouth found her husband in his dressing-room he was, as I feared, pn the point of committing suicide. She saved him. A number of trinkets, some of great value, were found in his safe. There is, of course only one explanation. On that point Lord Barmouth was mad. Theie was no object in his stealing ladies' ornaments, as he is a very wealthy man, and had not put them to any use. There was not much difficulty in finding their respective owners. I returned them myself, asking each one, as a matter of courtesy, to make no inquiries as to how they fell into my pos-session.—"Tit-Bits."