Chief Inspector Japp Solves a Case

Written by William Shepard, Published on 1/30/2009, Re-published on 8/6/2010

Hercule Poirot drummed his fingers on his desk, trying vainly to control his impatience. He stared at the telephone, willing it to ring. It did not ring.

“For heaven’s sake, Poirot, what’s the matter?” Captain Hastings ventured.

“It’s this jewel robbery. I read about it in the Times,” Poirot said, tossing the paper to Captain Hastings. He missed, and the efficient Miss Lemon retrieved the newspaper from the floor and passed it to Captain Hastings.

“Ah yes,” Hastings said, “It was quite a robbery. The Majeska Emeralds, no less. Some lesser stuff, but a ring from that very collection. What’s the matter, Poirot?”

“The matter, as you call it, is that the telephone does not ring. It just sits there, mocking me. Why hasn’t Chief Inspector Japp called me to solve the case!” Drumming his fingers, he added, “And why would the Countess not have worn this ring at her own reception? It is not logical. Not logical at all!”

I knew about this little exchange because later, when we discussed the case, Captain Hastings told me all about it, over glasses of bitter at a companionable pub. And I was glad to tell him how the case was solved.

It was my first month on the job as a newly minted Scotland Yard detective. I was dealing with thefts, mostly, and had spent weeks talking with every pawnshop owner in London. That’s why I was ready when Chief Inspector Japp called me into his office. He was thoughtful and determined. “We’re going to solve this theft before that Belgian, Hercule Poirot, gets his ‘little grey cells’ in an uproar,” he said, slapping his desk (and hurting his hand) for emphasis.

“You, Bob Starett, have until tomorrow at noon to break the case. I mean,” he amended his prior statement, ”you have until tomorrow at noon to find the facts that will enable me to solve the case.” I could tell by the look on his face that he looked forward to telling Poirot about his triumph. He might even call Poirot before he informed the Commissioner!

Hastings gave me a detailed inventory of the jewelry that had been stolen from Countess Majeska, wife of the Polish Ambassador, two days ago. There had been a ball at the Embassy Residence. In addition to some jewelry of lesser value, a ring engraved with the initial M in Gothic script had been stolen from her private quarters during the course of the ball. The Countess had fortunately worn the other emeralds from her collection, including an elegant necklace, bracelet and Princess Ring. This was information that I had read in the newspapers. Hastings told me a secret, which let me know that I was in his confidence. “The ring that was stolen was paste! That’s the funny thing. We concocted a story, Count Majeska and I, and fed it to the gullible press. The paste copy was put in the jewelry case with the real gems when it was taken from the vault. The real ring was left in the vault, don’t you see. Maybe that will bring the ring to light!”

I blinked in astonishment, and then reviewed what was known. The thief was evidently someone who knew the residence. He or she must have been a personal friend, and not just a colleague or business acquaintance.

I got on the job immediately, of course. After six calls, I located the pawnshop where an emerald ring with the initial M engraved on it had been pawned yesterday. As a matter of fact, Jimmy (of Jimmy’s Reputable Pawn Emporium) had called me. There had been an inexperienced clerk on duty the previous afternoon, who had muddled all of the pawned items, and not kept the precise records that the law requires. Jimmy was calling me to cut his losses, so to speak. He had seen the newspaper account, and suspected that one of the pawned items was from the Majeska theft.

Pointing at the clerk, Jimmy began, “The trouble is,” he said, “that this idiot can’t remember who pawned what. He just couldn’t be bothered to do the records properly.”

Jimmy called me aside. “And the devil of it is, one of the rings is paste! Not worth one tenth of what we loaned for it!”

I assumed a calm demeanor, which I didn’t feel, believe me. I also winked a knowing wink at him, which let him know that I was aware of that fact all along.

“Well, let’s see. Probably it isn’t as bad as all that.” I hoped to coax the young man out of his terror. “Tell me what you remember.”

Sam Jurgens, the young clerk, thought a bit. He coughed, put on his most serious expression, and began. “There were four people who pawned rings yesterday.” His records did indicate that, but the appalling fact was that the only description for each one was “jeweled ring,” nothing more or less. Further, they were all rather valuable. One couldn’t tell them apart by the sums of money that each person received with each ring as collateral for the loan. I could see that Jimmy would have problems with this clerk. Imagine running a business this slipshod way!

“The four people were -- let’s see: Alan Harrison, George Smythe, Herbert Grosvenor, and Evelyn Johnston.” I nodded. Now we were getting somewhere. All four were on the list that Chief Inspector Japp had developed of guests at the Majeska ball, who were personal friends of the Ambassador and his wife, and therefore would have some knowledge of their private quarters.

In addition to the Majeska ring, an ornate emerald ring with the telltale initial M in Gothic script on the underside, there was a striking ruby ring with diamonds, a yellow diamond ring set in platinum and a diamond ring set with a cluster or perfect natural pearls. Clearly I had much to learn, as they all looked real to me. Any one of them might be worth many times my salary, for several months at least! Except the paste one, of course, whichever one it was.

“Let’s try to sort it out, Sam,” I said. “I suppose you heard some tales of woe when the objects were pawned?”

“Well, yes. They all gave a story of hard times, temporary of course, and the need for some ready cash to tide them over until better times came.”

“Clients often do that, while they are waiting for their money,” Jimmy offered.

“Any particular comments, about the rings themselves?”

“Yes, detective, now that you mention it. Why, George Smythe said that his ring had been in his family for several generations. His grandmother had even worn it,” Jurgens remembered, “when she was presented at Court.”

“But you don’t remember which one it was?”

“No, sir.” He really looked glum.

“And Alan Harrison?”

“He was quite cheerful, actually. He said that he had won the ring at cards that morning, and now he was looking for some cash to pay off a stack of bills he had accumulated. I wish our other clients were as cheerful.”

“Were the others also family heirlooms?”

“One was. Evelyn Johnston said she had been left her ring by her cousin, though she never had an occasion to wear it. She was going to wear it at the Majeska Ball, she said, but would have been embarrassed to leave it here afterwards. Someone, after all, who had seen it at the ball might have recognized it, and guessed the fact that she was having a hard go of it.”

“Sounds quite reasonable. And the other one?”

“That was Herbert Grosvenor, sir. He was a very sad and solemn man. He just wanted someone to talk to, it seemed. He told me that at the Majeska Ball, he planned to become engaged. It was a new ring, bought for the occasion. But at the proper moment, the lady informed him she was not interested. He was crushed, and never even got to show her the ring,” Jurgens recalled. “He also said that he wasn’t sure whether he would bother picking it up again. It certainly had brought him terrible luck.”

Sam Jurgens reported to Chief Inspector Japp. “I think, sir, that if you pursue the person I suspect, you will be led directly to the criminal who stole the Majeska jewels. It will make a good story when you present the facts to Hercule Poirot!”