Grand Larceny

Matilda Abblesham was a great believer in the benefits of comfort in routine. As such, every Thursday morning, she took a disproportionate amount of delight in her usual routine of scrambled eggs and a pot of tea, followed by a walk around the village, culminating in a gossip at the local post office and buying the tabloid rags. After performing various small household tasks (having a “potter”  as she liked to put it), she treated herself to an hour with a second pot of tea reading about all the various society scandals. That Thursday was no different. Until, as she settled down to her second pot of tea, the clatter of the letterbox disturbed her quiet contentment. It was an unexpected letter from her god-daughter. Avery was an accountant for one of the big firms in London, and Matilda was very proud of her and eagerly anticipated her letters.
“Oh drat!”
Opening the letter, out fell a neatly folded parchment ticket. Her god-daughter clearly did not appreciate the benefits of a neatly ordered routine, and had very kindly invited her to an event on the following Thursday. It was somewhat of a coincidence however, as Matilda could have sworn that she had just seen some related news in the tabloids...

*          *        *        *

The gardens were a delight; clusters of sweet smelling lavender competing with even taller rhododendrons, neat beds of sweet williams and pansies and daisies, rose bushes in full bloom with flowers of every possible hue, and a small ornamental pond with pretty water lilies and reed beds. On the immaculately mowed striped lawn a small stage had been constructed with oddments of furniture, and several rows of deckchairs faced it. Matilda settled down in her allotted chair with a great sigh of satisfaction. She appreciated her god-daughter's thoughtfulness in buying the tickets and driving them all the way down to Kenworth, but she was exhausted.

Kenworth had once been the home of the eminent author, William George, and his family hosted occasional private parties with a tour of the house and a little evening production of one of his plays in the garden. The tour had been extremely predictable; much made of the library, and a glass case of first editions, with very little else of substance. The only surprise had been in what they called “the dressing room”, which contained a display of William's first wife's jewels. Matilda had assumed anything so valuable and precious would have been kept firmly under lock and key. Elspeth Montgomery – George had been a wealthy woman in her own right, from an old Texas oil family, and the epitome of 1950s glamour. Pictures of her wearing various elaborate jewelled concoctions had regularly appeared in the gossip columns, and when she had succumbed to cancer at only forty-three, it was said that her husband had been prostrate with grief. It was a romantic story, and, considering his three other marriages after, one Matilda rather doubted.
The woman showing them the house had rather proudly announced herself to be the housekeeper, and when they came to the dressing room proclaimed in an urgent whisper that this would be an especial treat, as this part of the tour was only but rarely given. The guests obediently grouped around the antique table set up in the middle of the room, and oo-ed and ah-ed at the collection of jewellery laid out there on velvet cloth.

Her god-daughter appeared with a welcome cup of tea and a slice of fruit cake, and Matilda settled in to enjoy the production. The actors were obviously all locals, untrained and rather over-enthusiastic. Still, the quality of the writing shone through and she found herself smiling in all the appropriate places, and clapping along with everyone else at the end.

When the actors had taken their final bow and exited off makeshift 'stage right', flutes of champagne were distributed (strictly one per person, as specified in the small print). Milling around the garden, people watching and enjoying the warm summer's evening, it was then that Matilda heard the cry.
“Oh! They're gone! Alan, Alan get in here! They're gone!”
The cry came from an upstairs window, and the guests turned their heads to look up. There was a clatter of feet on stairs, and then a further shout and some muttering.
“Nonsense! Get a hold of yourself woman!”
Matilda couldn't hear the rest, and after that all was silent and the guests went back to their chatter and mingling. Matilda however, remained curious. She excused herself from her niece, and entered the house through the glass patio windows. Finding herself in an elegantly appointed living room, she remembered her tour and crossed to the main hall and climbed the stairs. In “the dressing room”, a slender young girl in a long fawn coloured silk dress, her golden hair carefully coiled on the back of her head, sat with her face sunk into perfectly manicured hands with glossy red nails. Her shoulders shook as she cried, and an older man in evening dress was hunched over the desk with a grimace of anger distorting his face.
“Excuse me, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but perhaps I could be of some assistance?” If it was offered a little timidly, it was because it just seemed such a strange thing to say in someone else's house; but it was exactly what Matilda meant, and she prided herself on always saying precisely what she meant.
“Hey, this is a private part of the house, lady. You can't be in here. Especially not now!”
Matilda disliked rudeness, but from the set of his jaw and his hunched shoulders she could tell that he was under an enormous amount of strain and decided to ignore it this once.
“Yes. However, I believe I can help you find them.”
“You do? Oh, wonderful! How? However can you know? See, I knew it would be alright.” The girl gasped, leaping to her feet and clasping Matilda's hand.
“What do you mean?” The man asked, suspiciously.
“The jewels. You are missing the Elspeth Montgomery – George jewels, am I correct?”
“Yes. We are. How did you know?”
Matilda sighed rather sadly, it was a shame that the youth of today didn't cultivate the same reasoning abilities which had been so nurtured in her generation.
“Shall I sit?”
“Oh, by all means! How rude of us! Here, let me help you.” The girl shifted a jacket from one of the armchairs on either side of the wardrobe, and carefully eased Matilda into it.
“Thank you, my dear.” Matilda adjusted her skirt and handbag, and then looked expectantly at the gentleman. “Well, you wanted to know how I knew about the jewels, I think? It was very simple deduction. We are in what you called “the dressing room”, where not two hours ago we had been shown us a collection of Elspeth Montgomery – George's famous jewels. I heard the cry, something like “they're gone”, come from this window. It was quite obvious, I'm afraid.”
“And how do you think you can help us? What do you know about this?”
“I believe, well, perhaps that is, I might, be able to tell you where they are. You see, I had given it some thought. It wasn't that I expected this to happen, per se, but I can't say I'm terribly surprised.” Matilda smiled apologetically.
“What the hell do you mean?” His tone was abrupt, and his jaw still clenched and set.
“She means she knows where they are!” The girl breathed, her face the picture of ecstatic awe.
“No, no. I may not. But I think... Yes, I think I know. If it's no trouble, perhaps you might just indulge me, tell me exactly what happened? Start with where the jewels were kept.”
“Oh, Alan. We might as well! We can't call the police, we just can't! Tell her!”
“Felicity...”
“What harm can it do? What possible harm could it do, Alan!” Her voice was breathy and overwrought, and with a sigh he gave in. A slight smirk was the only sign that he justified his surrender by considering himself simply humouring her.
“Very well. Have it your way. Mrs...?”
“Miss. Matilda Abblesham. Matilda will do fine, my dear. And you are?”
“Alan Bonneface. I manage the William George estate for the family. And this is Felicity George; William's granddaughter.”
“Fascinating, fascinating. Yes, his third wife, May Cornflower, I believe. He had a son, Albert. You would be Albert's daughter, Felicity, of course.”
“That's right.” Felicity smiled at Matilda and patted her hand. “Carry on, Alan.
“Very well. Though I cannot see what earthly... But very well. Miss Abblesham, the jewels are always kept in here. There's a combination safe in the dresser, hidden from sight of course, but put  there in Elspeth's time. They were taken out by the housekeeper, Mrs Rook, at four fifteen, and the date and time written in the log book. The guests trooped in shortly after that, and directly after the viewing, the jewels were put back into the safe and the door locked again. She recorded the door was locked at four thirty three sharp. Here.” He thrust a leather log book at Matilda and she examined it briefly.
“Hmm, yes. So I see. Who has the combination to the safe, Mr Bonneface?”
“Myself, as Estate Manager; Mrs Rook, as housekeeper, of necessity to show the jewels to guests; and members of the family.” He put the log book back in a drawer of the desk.
“Which members of the family?”
“William George has four surviving relatives. Felicity here, her mother and sister, and a son from his second marriage.”
“The son would be Mark George, of course. He's also a writer I believe. And which of them was in the house this evening?”
“My mother lives in France, Miss Abblesham. My sister's in London; she's an actress and she's appearing in the West End tonight. And Mark lives in Cornwall. So there was only myself.”
“I see. Yes. And the safe has not been tampered with in any way? There is no-one else that could know the code?”
“Certainly not.”
“Then it stands to reason, there are only three possible solutions. The first is that Mrs Rook never replaced the jewels in the safe, the second that yourself or Felicity removed them later, and the third that they are still in there.”
“I can assure you, Miss Abblesham, neither I nor Felicity removed the jewels. And they are not still in here. I cannot answer for Mrs Rook, but I have always found her to be reliable and I doubt she has suddenly decided to try her hand at grand larceny.”
“Quite. One had to check, however, as often it's the simplest solutions... Felicity my dear, I believe you occasionally wear the jewels to functions and things like that?”
“Yes, I do.”
“And you have a maid who helps you dress? Does your hair?”
“It's usually Evelyn, but she left to get married... But yes, I do.”
“You hired someone recently, to replace Evelyn?”
“Hetty. She's only temporary though.”
“But she has seen you open the safe. You went to a ball at the Natural History Museum, about two weeks ago. I believe I saw your picture in the national papers. You were wearing the diamond necklace which I saw in here earlier.”
“That's right, I was. Yes, I suppose she must have done! We were in here and I was getting dressed, and I took the diamonds out of the safe... But she was standing at my shoulder, because she had been curling my hair for me. Do you think Hetty took the jewels, Miss Abblesham?”
“Mr Bonneface, I think you might check Hetty's belongings... I would begin... Yes, with her handbag. The obvious choice, but this was hardly a crime of great intelligence I think. I believe they will be in an envelope. And she will be leaving to catch the last post collection in a matter of moments, but I think you can still catch her if you hurry.”
Alan Bonneface gave Matilda a look of confusion and startled re-evaluation, but practically ran out of the room. And when he returned, he was holding the arm of a young woman wearing her outdoor coat and shoes, and clutching her purse to her chest.
“Miss Felicity, please, don't let him do this! It wasn't me! I wouldn't!”
Felicity gently prised the handbag from her maid's hands, and upended it on the sofa. A brown manilla envelope dropped out and bounced onto the floor at Matilda's feet. She picked it up, and turned the contents out into her lap. A riot of colours and shapes of jewels rolled onto the soft tweed of her skirt.
“Oh!” Felicity cried, “Thank you ever so Miss Abblesham! Oh, this is wonderful! I just knew we would find them! Hetty! How could you?”
Matilda just smiled, and watched as the young woman reverently knelt at her feet, carefully placing the jewels back into their respective cases.
“But it beats me, I mean... How did you know?”
“Since you told me that the safe hadn't been tampered with, and that the only three people in the house with authorised access were yourself, Felicity, and a trusted housekeeper, I knew it had to be an outsider who had access to the code. Most young women of wealth have a maid these days, Mr Bonneface. And I recalled seeing Felicity in the newspapers wearing a diamond necklace very similar to one I had seen here this evening. There were other possibilities, of course. But once Felicity said that Hetty was only a temporary maid... Yes. It all fell into place.”
“But you said you'd figured it out, that you thought there would be a jewel theft?”
“I'm afraid I did suspect something of the sort. I imagine that the jewels are very rarely removed, and it is even rarer that guests be permitted to examine them... It would have been the perfect time for Hetty to take them, when there was a house full of other suspects. Yes. I suspected it was possible. Opportunity does not always equal a crime, of course... But yes. When I heard Felicity's cry at the window, I knew that the opportunity had been taken.”
“You are a marvel! I apologise, I truly do. I underestimated you. Miss Abblesham, thank you. To call in the police, the publicity, it could have ruined us! Not to mention the loss of the jewels, and the effect on the family. Thank you, from all of us. How will we ever repay you?”
“Oh, I think a cup of tea might go down rather nicely, don't you?” Matilda twinkled.