Charlotte Wynthorpe and the Case of the Disappearing Diamonds

9. Fancy Meeting You Here

Charlotte sighed. "Perhaps," she said, putting effort into sounding bored. She hadn't seen Phillipa in ages and the prospect of an evening among friends did sound more than pleasant. 

"I'll give you a ring in a few days, alright? Alright, darling? And we'll make arrangements." 

"If you must. Now, I really must dash, Carlton. Good bye." Charlotte quickened her pace, leaving Carlton where he was. Once she was out of the station and safely in a hackney cab sputtering her way home through the drizzle did she let out a sigh of relief. 

That had been close. She gazed down at the magazine and the two paperbacks on her lap, fairly certain Carlton hadn't taken any notice of them. She really was going to have to do something about him, but she still couldn't make up her mind. He was a good sport and fun to be around, distractingly handsome, of course, but. . . she sighed. 

She really was going to have to do something about him, and soon. But not right at that moment. Not when there was a mystery to be solved. 

Preston opened the front door as she stepped out of the cab. "Journey successful, ma'am?"

Charlotte held the bundle in her hand out to him to take. "Very. Put these in the sitting room for me, will you? And I could murder for some tea."

"Very good, ma'am."

She went upstairs to wash the soot and grime from the station off and change into at-home clothes, which consisted of a lovely house robe with puffed sleeves and matching slippers her seamstress had concocted from pictures of an Italian countess. It reminded her of Anne's painter's dress after a fashion. 

Twenty minutes later, she was settled into the wing chair in the sitting room again and Preston was pouring a deliciously fragrant tea into a bone china cup.  A plate of biscuits had already magically appeared on the side table next to her chair. 

Preston cleared his throat. "While you were away, ma'am, I took the liberty of continuing to think on the idea of luring the diamond thief into a trap."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought you disapproved of the entire notion. Well, where did it lead you, this think of yours? Don't leave me hanging, I'm on the edge of my seat." Charlotte slapped the padded leather of the wing chair's armrests.   

Preston placed the tea cup onto the table next to Charlotte. "I do not disapprove of the idea in the slightest, ma'am. That would be an impertinence on my part and a slight on the criminalist brilliance of Mr Huntley. I am merely concerned for your safety as well as the safety of your property, of which I am guardian. For that reason, I would like to suggest having a false set of diamonds created and tempting the thief with those. In the unlikely event that the trap fails to close properly, you will not suffer a significant loss of any sort."

"Have a false set of diamonds made up, you say?"

"Yes, ma'am. Made of glass and paste, I believe. Remarkably realistic from a distance of ten or so paces. Sufficient for a larger social gathering. I've been informed that certain duchesses have just such duplicates of their most valuable pieces."

Charlotte took a sip of tea, grinning into her cup. "Let me guess. The Butler's Telegraph?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I see. Well, that certainly would be a false rumour in the truest sense of the word, wouldn't it? False diamonds to tempt a false man." 

"Yes, ma'am. Perhaps too literal of an interpretation of Inspector Bump's strategy, but it would protect your property and minimise actual damage, which would save bother with the insurance. And I am keenly aware of how much you wish to avoid bother."

"Indeed I do. The blasted insurance. Hadn't thought of that. Good thing I have you, Preston, or I would be up to my neck in policies and the dullest of fine print I would never bother to read, wouldn't I?  Say, has the Telegraph also been kind enough to provide the name and address of makers of counterfeit diamonds?"

"Indeed it has, ma'am."

Charlotte thought for a few moments. Preston waited patiently, gloved hands clasped professionally behind his back. 

"If we take that course of action, then I shall be forced to attend more parties than I normally do. I shall have to show the paste duplicates around to as many pairs of eyes as wish to see them, and you know how much I shall despise that."

"A terrible burden, ma'am. Especially at the very loud soirees where the champagne flows in rivers and dancing is strictly enforced."

"Are those the same ones where the pixies come out to paint the roses with perfume after everyone's done vomiting in the garden?"

"The self same, ma'am."

"Wretched. However shall I survive."

"Shall I make arrangements with the jeweller?"

"Please do. What would you recommend? So far, a collier, earrings, a diadem and something we don't know anything about, have gone missing. That leaves rings and brooches. If indeed the thief is out after a full set of diamond jewellery."

Preston paused for a few moments. "That was a possibility I hadn't yet considered, ma'am. Allow me to put more thought into it?"

"Certainly. I've got nothing else to do this week besides a few social engagements and tennis on Wednesday. Oh, and I'll be attending a party at the Montjoy's place with Mr Wheatley on Friday." 

Preston's head tilted slightly as he thoughtfully stroked the side of his nose. "I was unaware Mr Wheatley had rung."

"He hasn't. I ran into him unexpectedly at Paddington and he mentioned something on Friday. Said he would ring later."

"In that case," Preston said, slowly, "I would suggest not wearing the false diamonds to that particular party, ma'am." 

"Why? Oh, right. So Carlton doesn't start with a barrage of irritating questions and ruin the evening? Good thinking. Although I believe I gave him enough of a tongue lashing, he could still find something to complain about." Charlotte looked to the two new novels screaming for her attention on the table. "Now, I think I shall see if Inspector Bump has any new suggestions for me."

"Very good, ma'am." Preston gave a slight bow and left his mistress to her sleuthing.