Robert Barnard - Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 135, No. 2. Whole No. 822, February 2010

“I very much doubt it. Tell me, was there any sign of damage to the lock or other parts of the door?”

“That is another curious thing. The door was quite unmarked. The carpenter who refitted it disbelieved my story, I think, and suspected me of having removed the thing myself. The lock had not been broken, and the hinges were still screwed to the door; all that was missing was the eight brass screws which had held the hinges to the door frame, and they could not have been removed until the door was open.”

“Is it possible that you accidentally left the door unlocked when you departed for work that morning?”

“Impossible, I think. I am not a rich man, Mr. Holmes, but I have some precious books and a collection of coins which I am concerned to keep safe, so I am assiduous about seeing to the locks and windows.”

“And may I see your front-door key?”

Hartshorne handed over a small bunch, indicating a brass key of medium size. Holmes squinted at it, then handed back the bunch.

“Thank you. I think, Mr. Hartshorne, that you are in no great danger in this matter. However, until I have made further enquiries I would not be happy to return you to your rooms, and hope you might accept the rather rough hospitality which the doctor and I can offer you. It will only be the divan, I fear, but I venture to suggest that you will be safer here than anywhere else in London.”

Hartshorne readily accepted his offer and in the morning, after Mrs. Hudson had supplied us with breakfast, Holmes suggested we pay a visit to 9B Bruton Street. It was a relatively short walk from Baker Street, and we soon arrived at the solid blue-painted front door which had so recently been found upon the pavement. Holmes examined it with his glass for some minutes, then asked Hartshorne to open the door, which he did, with the key he had shown us the previous evening. In the hall, Holmes scrutinised the lock and the hinges and then, to my surprise, announced that he was satisfied and that our friend would not need to spend another night on the couch at Baker Street. He bade Hartshorne farewell, with a promise to return presently with the solution to the mystery.

I followed him across the street, where he walked slowly past the houses there before turning into Barlow Place. From here we passed down a nameless alley into Grafton Street, where we turned right, then left into Dover Street, and were immediately confronted by Brown’s Hotel. I had not realised how very close we were.

“I suppose we might as well take a look at the duchess’s rooms, while we are here,” said my friend casually. I suspected this had been his intention all along, and that he had dismissed Hartshorne so readily in order to get back on the scent of the Caradoc diamonds. Having sent his card up to the duchess’s rooms, we were soon admitted to the scene of the crime. The duchess greeted us herself with great courtesy, though she clearly had no idea of who Holmes was and seemed somewhat amused by the notion of a consulting detective assisting the police. She was a lively woman of six and sixty, whose face gave more than a hint of the great beauty for which she had been famed in her youth. She appeared to have no servants in her entourage and, as we entered her sitting room, I noticed a half-eaten packet of Huntley and Palmer’s biscuits on the mantel shelf, which I thought a little curious. Having indulged Holmes’s desire to see her bedroom and to examine the ruined tiara, we returned to the sitting room and sat down at the same card table where the seance had been held six days previously.

“Your Grace,” said Holmes, “is most kind to accommodate us. I wonder if you could give us your account of the disappearance of your diamonds.”

“I told everything to the police inspector who came in answer to James’s summons, but I have no objection to repeating myself. I have wanted to contact my dear husband for some months now, and have made several attempts to do so, using different mediums. Last Thursday night was the first time I had success, and I bless Madam Spinarossa for her very special powers. George, my husband, came through quite clearly. I swear it was him, Mr. Holmes, and he spoke to me so kindly of our life together and his happiness in paradise. But during the seance, he took a small revenge upon me by removing all the diamonds from my tiara. He had a perfect right. He gave them to me with his own hand, and with the same hand took them back.”

“Then you are not of the opinion that the stones were stolen?”

“Indeed no. I am quite sure that I will never see them again in this world. I have forfeited the right to them.”

“When you heard the voice of the duke, was it possible to say where in the room it appeared to emanate from?”

“Oh, from the air, Mr. Holmes, from the air.”

“But did it seem to come from one particular direction more than another?”

“I suppose it came from over there.” She indicated the curtained window. Holmes inspected the casement and the small table which stood beside it, picking up with his fingertip and sniffing at a little dust which he found there.

While he worked, he asked the duchess, “Did you converse with the duke?”

“Oh yes, I asked him several questions, which he answered greatly to my satisfaction and pleasure.”

“While you spoke with him, did his voice appear to move about the room?”

“No, it came always from the air around the window. But the voice of Madam Spinarossa came from elsewhere, of course, from beside me where she was seated.”

“Throughout the seance you and she held hands?”

“Quite so. And I held dear James’s hand upon the other side.”

“And did you feel or hear any disturbance about your head when the duke removed the diamonds?”

“None. But the fingers of a ghost are as gossamer, Mr. Holmes, and I would hardly expect to have felt anything.”

“Indeed. I understand there was some shaking of the table once the seance had begun.”

“Poor Madam Spinarossa knocked against it in the dark before she had even sat down, but after that it was still until my husband appeared. Then there were some tremblings of the board, mostly I think when Spinarossa was having trouble maintaining the contact with George.”

“Once the seance was over, and the disappearance of the diamonds was noticed, how did Madam Spinarossa seem?”

“Much shaken, I fear. She had generated ectoplasm during her trance, and seemed barely alive when James relit the gas. When the police arrived, she recovered a little, but I was much concerned for her. James and Vincent both insisted upon being searched for the diamonds, and so did dear Mattie; I too offered to allow the policemen to search my person, and they did so in a most respectful manner. Madam Spinarossa was treated shamefully, however, and searched while unfit to understand what had happened, let alone give her consent. Of course, the police found nothing. How could they? At length they allowed my friends, and the medium, to leave.”

Holmes mused for a moment. “I believe Your Grace may be mistaken in your interpretation of what took place that evening.”

“How so, Mr. Holmes?”

“It may be true that your late husband’s spirit abstracted the stones, and that they will never again be seen by mortal eyes. But I ask you to reconsider your belief that their removal was a punishment or revenge upon you. True, your husband took back the jewels he had once given you. But were they not insured?”

The duchess nodded. I confess I was taken aback by my friend’s words, as I knew what little respect he had for the deceit of mediums and the popular belief in spiritualism. But I knew Holmes well enough to hold my tongue, and smiled indulgently at the duchess.

“Perhaps,” said my friend, “the late duke took the diamonds as a kindness to you, rather than a punishment.”