8. The Crown Jewels

The very first thing you notice about London is that is ain't exactly warm. The second thing is that it ain't exactly cold. The third is that it ain't exactly dry. The fourth is that it ain't exactly sunny. The fifth is that it ain't exactly cheap.

Still, London's got a lot of things going for it. For one thing, most of the folks speak a kind of American, which was a pleasant change from Paris, where they don't speak no known language at all. For another, everyone kept saying that it was a pretty class-ridden town, so I figured if I could just find out where the sinful classes hung out I'd know right where to establish my tabernacle.

I took a room at an old, run-down hotel on Basil Street, then went out looking for a sinner or two of the female persuasion, just to test the waters, so to speak. I'd got maybe three blocks away from the hotel when I came across a large crowd lined up to get into some theater, and they seemed so eager and excited that I decided I might as well join ’em and see what all the fuss was about, since in my broad experience on four continents very few entertainments draw that kind of enthusiasm unless they feature a few fallen women in serious need of both clothing and redemption.

Well, we all filed in and sat down, and while I was looking for painted women, of which there was nary a sign, an announcer came out on the bare stage and said, “Thank you for coming, ladies and gentlemen. Our speaker tonight needs no introduction. He has consented to give one of his rare public lectures, and so may I present, without any furtheradieu , the greatest consulting detective in the world, London's own Sherringford House.”

Everybody stood up and started clapping, and then this skinny guy, dressed in tweeds and smoking a pipe, came out onto the stage.

“Mr. House,” said the announcer, “before you begin, can we impose upon you to display your remarkable powers of deduction for the audience?”

“Certainly,” said Sherringford House. “May I have a volunteer, please?”

Well, I could see right off that there weren't going to be no sinners on display, so I got up to leave.

“Thank you, sir,” said House, and suddenly everyone started staring at me.

“You talking to me?” I said.

“You have recently been in Paris, I perceive,” he said, “and I believe it is not incorrect to state that you toil in the service of your Lord.”

“Now how on earth did you know that?” I asked.

He merely smiled, and suddenly everyone started applauding.

“The science of deduction,” he said after they'd all calmed down, “can be divided into three separate parts: observation, analysis, and conclusion. Anyone who has been properly trained can do what I just did. You ask how I have solved one hundred and three cases without a failure, and I say to you that had the police learned those three basic principles—observation, analysis, and conclusion—they would not have needed my services in any of them.”

“Rubbish!” said a voice from the audience.

“I beg your pardon?” said House.

“I say that's balderdash, and that you're a fake,” said the voice, which was suddenly sounding pretty familiar. “What's more, I'm willing to bet five thousand pounds that I can prove it.”

“Please stand up, sir, so that I may see you,” said House.

The man stood up, and now that I could get a good look at him, I realized that it was Erich Von Horst.

“I will put a challenge to you, Mr. House,” said Von Horst. “In three nights’ time, I will steal the Crown Jewels, and I'll wager five thousand pounds that you and the entire London Metropolitan Police Force cannot prevent me from so doing.”

“Arrest that criminal!” shouted a woman.

“No!” said House sharply. “This man has challenged my integrity. Were I to back down, I would be less than British, which is unthinkable.” He turned back to Von Horst. “Sir,” he said, “have you any conditions attached to your challenge?”

“I will need one assistant,” said Von Horst.

“Professor Melanoma, perhaps?” said House, arching an eyebrow sardonically.

“I need no one else to help me plan the theft,” said Von Horst. “To prove it, I will accept someone from the audience, if you will promise that he or she will not be prosecuted.”

“That is acceptable,” said House. “I will speak to Inspector McIlvoy, and I'm sure he will agree.” He paused. “Who do you choose?”

Von Horst looked straight at me and smiled. “It makes no difference,” he said. “It might as well be the gentleman from Paris.”

“Done, sir,” said House. He now turned to the announcer. “Will you be good enough to hold the stakes?”

“Gladly, Mr. House,” replied the announcer. House pulled out a checkbook and began scribbling while Von Horst approached the stage and handed over a huge wad of bills.

“It does not bother you that I have seen your face?” asked House.

“Not in the least,” said Von Horst confidently, “for you shall never see it again.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said House, “I hope you will forgive me, but I must postpone this lecture while I prepare to apprehend this villain. If the management will agree, your tickets will be honored for a week from tonight, at which time I shall tell you exactly how I captured him and saved the Crown Jewels.”

That brought a standing ovation, and then House walked off the stage and everyone except Von Horst started filing out.

“Good evening, Doctor Jones,” said Von Horst when we were alone in the theater. “Fancy meeting you here, of all places. What a small world it is.”

“Crowded is more the word for it,” I said bitterly.

“Ah,” he said. “You're still mad about our little venture in Italy.”

“You might say that.”

“Then this is my chance to put things right between us,” he said. “I'll let you in for one-third.”

“Things ain't been right between us since the day I first met you back in Dar-es-Salaam, and they didn't get no better in Morocco or Algeria or Mozambique or Italy. Just get out of my life.”

“What kind of attitude is that for a man of the cloth?” he said. “How can I atone for my past sins if you turn your back on me?”

“Von Horst,” I said, “there's probably a couple of hundred things I might do to you, but turning my back on you ain't one of ’em.”

“How can I prove my sincerity?” he said. “I have a foolproof plan to steal the Crown Jewels. I'm so sure it will work that I put up five thousand pounds against the greatest detective in the world. You will be working for me. You'll know all the details of my plan, the location of my headquarters, everything you need to turn me in if you should decide that I'm trying to deceive you in any way. Furthermore, Sherringford House has given his personal guarantee that you will not be held culpable if I succeed. What more could you possibly want?”

“Everything alwayssounds good when you lay it out,” I said, “but somehow or other you always get the money and I always wind up in the hoosegow.”

“But youcan't wind up in jail this time!” he said. “If I'm caught, you go scot free, and if I succeed, you get a third of the Crown Jewels.”

I mulled on it for a couple of minutes.

“What makes you so sure you can outwit Sherringford House?” I said. “EvenI've heard of him, and I ain't never been in England before today.”

“Doctor Jones,” he said, “this plan simply cannot fail. I don't care how brilliant House is, I don't care if the Tower of London is entirely surrounded by police, I will come away with the Crown Jewels.” He paused. “And the beauty of the scheme is that it requires no special skills whatsoever. I don't have to be able to climb the up the sides of buildings or pick complex combination locks or fight my way past an army of policemen. It took a genius to conceive it, but any fool could carry it out.”

It was at that very instant that my own plan occurred to me. If any fool could carry out the theft of the Crown Jewels, well, I could be every bit as much of a fool as the next man. I figured that I'd go along with him until I learned all the details of his scheme. Then I'd tell House just enough so he'd be waiting for Von Horst, and while he was carting Von Horst off to the calaboose, I'd use the plan to help myself to a couple of generous handfuls of the Crown Jewels and finally get around to building me a tabernacle worthy of my preaching talents.

“Well,” said Von Horst, “what do you say? Are you in or out?”

“In.”

“Good,” he said. “Iknew I could count on you. And you won't regret it.”

“Actually, I got a good feeling about this here enterprise,” I allowed. “Like you said, there's no way I can lose.”

“Shall we shake on it?” he asked.

“Just a minute,” I said, slipping off my watch and putting it on my left wrist. “Okay.”

“Somehow I have the feeling you still don't entirely trust me, Doctor Jones,” he said, shaking my hand.

“Maybe I will after you explain your plan to me,” I said.

“Fair enough,” he agreed. “But not here. There's too much chance that we'll be overheard.” He looked around. “Do you know the Garroted Goose?”

“It's a kid's nursery rhyme, right?”

“It's a pub on Bond Street. Be there at noon tomorrow.”

He turned and walked out of the theater, and a minute later I hunted up a phone book and found Sherringford House's address, and half an hour after that I was introducing myself to his landlady, who showed me up the steps to his apartment. I heard fiddle music coming through the door, and commented that it sounded right pretty.

“Oh, Mr. House is a great one for the violin,” said the landlady. “The house is filled with music whenever he's thinking.”

“He thinks a lot, does he?” I asked.

“Practically all the time,” she said. Then she whispered, “Just between us, I do wish he'd vary the melody every now and then.” We reached the landing. “Well, here we are. It's the first door to your left.”

“Do come in,” said House's voice, just before I could knock on the door.

“Howdy, Mr. House,” I said, entering his apartment, which was filled with books and chemicals in equal proportion.

“Ah, the gentleman from the theater,” he said, turning off his Victrola and putting the record back in its package. “Please sit down.”

“Thank you,” I said, pulling up a chair.

“You have come to me because of the proposed burglary of the Crown Jewels, have you not?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said. “How did you know that?”

An amused smile crossed his face. “What other business could we possibly have to discuss?”

“Well, it seems simple when you explain it,” I said, “but for the life of me, I still don't know how you figured out I had just got here from Paris and was in the service of the Lord.”

“Elementary,” he said. “On the sole of your left shoe there remains a trace of horse manure. Beneath your fingernails is the sort of grime that is most easily accrued by working with animals. Your accent is American. Your bearing and demeanor is something less than aristocratic, and I therefore deduce that far from being a sportsman you are a common laborer. Now, where would an American be most likely to find work on a horse farm? In Paris, Kentucky, the breeding capital of the thoroughbred industry. And why would you suddenly come to England? Because Lord Pemberton has only this week moved his racing operation from the Blue Grass country to Britain, and since he is well-known for rewarding loyalty in his employees, it stands to reason that he has relocated all of his American help here in London. Therefore, it was a simple matter to conclude that you have recently arrived from Paris, and that you remain in the service of your Lord.” He leaned back and puffed smugly on his pipe.

“Well, if that don't beat all!” I said.

“It's nothing,” he said, getting to his feet. “Let me observe you further for a moment.”

I sat still like I was posing for a picture, until he walked once around me, nodded his head, and plumped himself back down on the sofa.

“You are left-handed, your mother died during childbirth, you are a crack shot with a .38-caliber revolver, and your fondest desire is to translate Shakespeare into Serbo-Croatian.”

“Truth to tell,” I said, “I'm right-handed, last time I heard from my mother she was serving hard time in Colorado for running a bawdy house, I ain't never shot a pistol in my life, and my fondest desire is to raise enough money to build the Tabernacle of Saint Luke.”

“Well,” he said with a shrug, “it had to be one or the other.” He took another puff of his pipe. “And now, what can I do for you, Mr...?”

“Reverend,” I said. “The Right Reverend Doctor Lucifer Jones.”

“Doctor?” he said, suddenly alert. “I don't suppose you'd have access to ... well, no, never mind. Please continue.”

“Well, Mr. House,” I said, “I been a law-abiding citizen and a God-fearing Christian all my life, and I just don't feel right helping Erich Von Horst steal the Crown Jewels out from under your nose, so to speak, and while I appreciate the fact that no one's going to arrest me no matter what happens, I'd feel a lot better about things if I knew I was helping to uphold the law rather than bust it.”

“A most commendable attitude,” he said.

“So I got to thinking on it,” I continued, “and I figured that the very best thing to do would be to find out exactly what Von Horst's plan is, and to pass it on to you so you'd be ready and waiting for him.”

“Well, I thank you very much for your concern, Reverend Jones,” said House, “but it would hardly be sporting, now that we've made our bet.”

“What's sporting got to do with anything?” I said. “This man has stolen and finagled his way all up and down Africa without getting caught, and now he's going after the Crown Jewels.”

“Africa?” he said with a laugh. “Not a chance, Reverend Jones. I studied him carefully when he came up to the stage, and I can tell you with total confidence that he has spent the last seventeen years as a bookkeeper in Brisbane, Australia. He is henpecked by his wife, devoted to his seven children—two boys and five girls—and spends his Sundays watching cricket matches from a seat that faces north-north-east.”

“I tell you he swindled his way across the length and breadth of Africa,” I said.

“Poor fellow,” he said sympathetically. “I fear that when that horse kicked you in the head last November—or was it October? No, November—it must have jarred loose some of your memory.”

“Can we just agree that wherever he's been, he's here now, and the main thing is to stop him from stealing the Crown Jewels?”

“Certainly,” said House. “And prevent him I shall.”

“Wouldn't it be a lot easier if you knew his plan?” I asked him.

House shot me a confident smile. “But I already do,” he said.

“You do?”

“Certainly,” he said. “The man is obviously a master of disguise. At precisely eleven o'clock three nights hence, when they change the guards in front of the jewel room, he will present himself for duty, dressed as a sergeant in the Tower Guard. He will take his post outside the door, snap to attention, and patiently wait for us to lose interest in him and direct our attention elsewhere on the assumption that he has not yet gained access to the Tower. Then, when the corridor is deserted, he will dispatch his fellow guard with a single blow to the back of the neck—the man is obviously an expert at karate; brown belt, I should think—and will enter the jewel room, prepared to make off with millions of pounds of Britain's greatest treasures. But I, Sherringford House, will be hidden inside that room, waiting for him.”

“Well, that sure sounds like you got it figured out,” I said. “But if you're right, what does he needme for?”

“In case the police remain in the vicinity of the jewel room after he has taken up his position, he will need you to create a commotion on one of the lower levels, drawing the police away so that he can have a few necessary moments alone to perpetrate his foul crime.” He paused and relit his pipe, which kept going out. “It is a brilliant scheme, as he said it was, and it is indeed almost foolproof. He forgot to take only one single factor into consideration.”

“Yeah?” I said. “And what was that?”

“He forgot that he would be trying to fool the greatest consulting detective in the world,” said House, who sure wasn't weighted down by no false modesty. “So you see, Reverend Jones, the situation is already well in hand. I thank you for your concern, but Von Horst will be in jail before the Tower clock strikes midnight three days hence.”

“You're absolutely sure you ain't made a mistake?” I said.

“A mistake?” he said."Me?"

Well, I could see we didn't have nothing more to talk about, so I took my leave of him and wandered on back to Basil Street. I woke up about ten in the morning, found out that nobody in London knew how to make a good cup of coffee, and when it was getting on toward noon I moseyed over to the Garroted Goose, where Von Horst was waiting for me at a table in the back.

“Good morning, Doctor Jones,” he said. “I trust you slept well?”

“Passably,” I said. “I had a pretty comfortable room, except maybe for the bed and the mattress and the springs and the pillow.”

“Well, three days from now, you can stay in the Royal Suite at the Dorchester,” he said. Suddenly he grinned. “And Sherringford House will never even know he's been bested!”

“You keep saying that,” I pointed out, “but you don't sayhow .”

“I'm about to,” said Von Horst. “Have you been to the Tower of London yet, Doctor Jones?”

“Nope,” I said. “I thought I'd take a gander at it this afternoon.”

“Well, when you do, you will see that the jewels are kept in a heavily guarded room at the very top of the Tower,” said Von Horst. “There are guards on duty around the clock, the door has a lock that it said to be unbreakable, and the only way down is by a single staircase. Every great thief on the history of crime has attempted to steal the Crown Jewels,” he added, “but none has ever succeeded—until now.”

“If I was a betting man, I'd go with the run,” I said.

“Ah—but I know something that even Sherringford House doesn't know,” said Von Horst with a grin.

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “Most of the jewels on display in the Tower are fake. Thereal jewels are locked away in a vault below ground level—andthat vault can be cracked. The government has no desire to call attention to it, so it is not guarded, not marked in any way, and indeed looks like any storage room. While House and the police are waiting in the Tower, I shall be directly below them, where I will have all night to steal the unprotected Crown Jewels at my leisure.”

“Yousure of this?” I asked.

“Would I have bet five thousand pounds if I had any doubts?” replied Von Horst. “I got it from an embittered woman who once thought she had a chance to marry Edward and become the Queen of all England. He toyed with her affections and then left her, and for years she has been nursing her bitterness and waiting for her revenge. It was after we were introduced by a mutual friend and I admitted some of my youthful indiscretions to her that she decided to impart this knowledge to me, in the hope that after I had accomplished my mission I would make it public and thus make fools of the entire Royal Family.” He smiled. “And what better way to publicize it than to defeat and humiliate England's favorite son, Sherringford House?”

“Just where doI enter into these here plans?” I said.

“You must convince House that, for some unfathomable reason, you have taken a strong dislike to me and wish to thwart me. You will give him some cock-and-bull story that we will concoct about how I plan to sneak into the jewel room, so that all his efforts are concentrated there, and he never realizes that while he is waiting for me, I have arrived and stolen thereal jewels directly below where he is standing.”

“And that's it?” I asked.

“That's it,” he said. “What do you think?”

What I thought was that he'd be out of the country with the jewels while I was stuck in the Tower and he had never had any intention of paying me my one-third, but I just grinned at him and said, “You were right; it sounds foolproof to me.”

“I'm staying at the Savoy,” he said. “Come by tomorrow night and we'll work out the bogus plan that you can relate to House and which will keep all his efforts and attentions confined to the Tower.”

“What time?” I asked.

“Shall we say eight o'clock?” suggested Von Horst. “We could do it sooner, of course, but I want House to think it took me a full two days to confide in you. It seems more realistic this way.”

I got up and told him that I'd see him the next night. Then I went right to a bookstore and bought a map of the Tower of London. The real jewel room wasn't on it, but I found the stairs leading down to its level, and it looked like Von Horst had figured things out pretty well. There were plenty of escape routes, and if things got really tense, he could open a window and just jump into the Thames. In fact, it was such a good plan that I decided I'd keep it for myself.

I spent the rest of the day getting my first good look at London, which was real long and strong on museums and stuff, but right short on gambling houses. I figured I might take in a little culture, so I went to a theater in the evening, but instead of moving pictures they had a bunch of real live people on stage. Still, it was a pretty entertaining comedy, and when this here prince started talking to a skull, of all things, I broke right out laughing, which led me to the realization that Londoners ain't got no sense of humor because everyone else just turned and stared at me and began trying to shush me up, so I got up, real dignified-like, and walked out, feeling right sorry for all them poor actors who were probably wondering why no one else appreciated all their jokes.

The next day I slept til noon, and figured I'd spend the day at the races, so I asked the desk clerk where I could find Ascot and Epsom, and he gave me two addresses, but evidently he didn't understand plain-spoken American real good, because the first address turned out to be a men's clothing shop and the second was a druggist, and all I had to show for my hopeful afternoon at the track was an Ascot tie and a box of Epsom salts.

I stopped at a local restaurant and had what they assured me was a typical British dinner, which led me to understand why I kept running into expatriate Brits all over the world. The lemonade could have used a little sugar to make up for not having no lemons, and with no ketchup to bring out the subtle nuances of flavor in the Dover sole, I decided they sold the leftovers to cobblers who had appropriated the word for shoe bottoms.

When it was getting on toward eight o'clock I went over to the Savoy, and found out from the desk clerk that Von Horst was in room 533 and was expecting me, so I took the elevator up to the fifth floor and began walking down the hall. Just as I passed room 531 I thought I could hear Von Horst's voice, and as I walked up to his door I could hear him, plain as day, speaking on the telephone.

“Yes, it's all working out beautifully,” he said. “The man is a complete and total fool. By now he has doubtless decided to alert Sherringford House to what he believes is my true plan, and to appropriate it for himself at some time in the future.” He chuckled at something, and then continued. “No, there's no way it can fail. Half the London police will be in the Tower, and the rest will be watching the storage room, and while they are all occupied,I shall sneak into Buckingham Palace and steal all the jewels they have taken out for the King of Norway's state dinner. I never did saywhich Crown Jewels I planned to steal, and while they're watching one set, I'll make off with the other and deliver them to you before sunrise ... You'll have to sit on them for a couple of years, but since I'm only asking thirty percent of market value, I think it's fair to say that we'll both make out like, shall we say, thieves?”

He laughed again, and I knocked on his door.

“I'll be right with you!” he yelled, and then I heard him say into the telephone, “I have to hang up now. You won't hear from me again until after the job is done.”

Then I heard him walk across the room, and the door opened, and he greeted me with a great big smile.

“Good evening, Doctor Jones,” he said. “I'm sorry if I kept you waiting, but I was in the lavatory.”

“Quite all right,” I said, walking in and sitting myself down in a leather chair. “Quite a spread you've got here.”

“It's cozy,” he agreed. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

I allowed as to how a glass of whiskey might wash away the taste of a typical British dinner, and he poured some for each of us, and then he sat down opposite me and while I finished my drink he instructed me to tell Sherringford House that he planned to impersonate a Tower Guard and have me create a commotion on the lower levels, and that when House and the police went down below to investigate he would disable the other guard with a karate chop, pick the lock, and steal the jewels before anyone returned.

“It's the stupidest scheme in the world,” he said with a chuckle. “But I've been reading House's adventures in the magazines, and he's just dumb enough to buy it.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I'll bet I could get him to go for it.”

“Your job,” he added, “is to lead them a merry chase without ever going below ground level, where I'll be stealing the real jewels from the storeroom. Do you think you can manage it?”

“I can't see why not,” I said.

“Fine. We'll meet at Westminster Abbey at four in the morning, where I'll give you your share of the jewels.”

“Fair enough,” I said agreeably.

“All right,” he said, getting to his feet. “Is there anything else we have to discuss?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Good. Then I'll see you approximately thirty-two hours from now, at which point we should both join the ranks of Britain's richest men.”

I walked on back to my hotel and sat down and started mulling on everything I had heard. Obviously Von Horst was using his bet just to divert the attention of Sherringford House and the London police so that he could have a clear, unhindered shot at all the jewels in Buckingham Palace, and I had known all along he planned to double-cross me, though I didn't know until I overheard his phone call exactly how he planned to do it.

So I got to sorting things out, and it seemed to me that since House already believed in Von Horst's phony scheme even though I hadn't yet told it to him, there wasn't no sense at all disappointing him, so I would lay it out just the way Von Horst wanted me to, and that would take care of the world's greatest consulting detective and the whole of the London Metropolitan Police Force.

Then, since I knew that the gems at Buckingham Palace would be unprotected, and that Von Horst had arranged everything so that he could sneak in and steal them at eleven o'clock, all I had to do was get there ahead of him, at maybe 10:30, and once I'd gotten safely back to my hotel I could call the Tower and tell ’em Von Horst was lurking in the Palace grounds, and that would take care of him once and for all, since he'd publicly promised to steal the jewels and they would sure as shootin’ get themselves stolen.

The more I thought about it, the more I couldn't see no way it could go wrong, so finally I moseyed over to House's apartment and told him that he was dead right about what Von Horst planned to do.

“Was there ever any doubt?” he said with a contented smile.

“Then, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not be anywhere on the premises, since Von Horst has a pretty vile temper and I don't want him taking no pot shots at me when he finds out I spilled the beans.”

“Certainly,” said House. “Your job is done, Reverend Jones. I commend you for your citizenship and your service to the Crown, though of course I knew all along what Von Horst was planning, as you'll recall from our conversation two nights ago.”

He walked me to the door and bid me good-night, and then I went back to Bristol Street, and spent the rest of the night and most of the next day resting up. I knew better than to try another British home-cooked dinner again, so I went out in search of a healthy meal and got myself two egg rolls, a chocolate donut, and a stein of ale, and at ten o'clock I started walking over to Buckingham Palace.

When I got there I saw that the whole building was dark, and I figured that all the kings and queens and aristocrats were indulging in their party games a little early, and that I might have to go from one bedroom to another collecting their treasures, but I'd brung a flashlight along with me, so that didn't bother me none. I walked up to one of the back windows, and since I didn't want to make no noise, I took off my shoes and then climbed in.

I found myself in some kind of drawing room, and since it was empty I opened the door and walked out into a huge corridor, and started opening doors and inspecting rooms one by one, but I couldn't find no jewelry or people or nothing in ’em, and after a few minutes I was beginning to wonder if maybe there was more than one Buckingham Palace, and if Edward and all the royal folks was in the other one and this one was owned by a kindly old couple named Buckingham who were asleep on the second floor.

Finally I made it to the living room, which was maybe a hundred feet long and half as wide, and I figured that if there wasn't no gems to be had, maybe I could at least pick up a knick-knack or two so it wouldn't be a totally wasted evening, and just as I was reaching for a little statue of a lady who was dressed as if she'd just stepped out of a shower and didn't have no towels nearby, all the lights came on and a voice shouted “You're under arrest!” and suddenly I was facing four hundred members of the London police.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked. “You're supposed to be over at the Tower of London.”

“We had a tip that someone would try to rob Buckingham while the Royal Family was vacationing at Windsor Castle,” said the officer in charge.

“Well, somebodyis gonna try to rob the Palace,” I said, “and if you'll just stick around a few minutes you can catch him red-handed.”

“We just did,” said the officer with a laugh.

“You got it all wrong,” I said. “I'm the Right Reverend Doctor Lucifer Jones. Don't that mean nothing to you?”

“It means you'll probably be thrown out of your church when they find out what you were doing,” he said.

“But you can't arrest me!” I said. “I got an agreement with Sherringford House!”

“Sure you do,” said the officer. “Now put your hands behind your back.”

“But I do!” I said as they slipped on a set of handcuffs. “Just ask him.”

“Sherringford House is much too busy protecting the Crown Jewels to be bothered right now,” said the officer.

And that was that. They led me off to the British version of a paddywagon and took me to the local station and photographed and fingerprinted me and booked me and locked me in a cell just like a common criminal. They even took away my cigars and my hip flask and my personal pair of custom-made dice, and left me with nothing but my well-worn copy of the Good Book, which wasn't as comforting as it might have been, since it was too dark to read or swat flies with it.

Well, I finally drifted off to sleep, and in the morning who should show up but Sherringford House. He nodded to the guard, who unlocked my cell.

“I'm terribly sorry for this misunderstanding,” said the consulting detective. “You are, of course, free to go. The London police have agreed to honor my promise to you.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“It was the least I could do for you,” he said, “considering that I won the five thousand pounds.”

“You caught Von Horst?” I said, surprised.

He shook his head. “He never showed up. At the very last minute he must have realized that he could never hope to elude Sherringford House.” He turned to me and shook my hand. “It has been most interesting working with you, Reverend Jones. I hope you enjoy the remainder of your stay in London.”

He walked off, and I went over to the desk to pick up my belongings.

“You're Lucifer Jones?” asked the desk sergeant.

“The Right Reverend Lucifer Jones,” I corrected him.

“Here's your gear,” he said, handing me a small cardboard box. “And this letter was hand-delivered for you about an hour ago.”

I opened it up and read it.My Dear Doctor Jones:

Once again I have found collaborating with you to be a stimulating and enriching experience. I had been planning to steal the Crown jewels for almost a month, but I had to wait until the perfect partner showed up, so you can imagine my elation when I saw you walking into Sherringford House's lecture three nights ago.

After I had arranged the wager and convinced you to join forces with me, I knew it would only be a matter of time before you betrayed me and tried to steal the jewels yourself. I also knew that House would have most of the London Metropolitan Police Force gathered at the Tower. The trick, of course, was to let you overhear me talking to myself as you approached my room at the Savoy, because I knew that the police would hold a few men in reserve to protect the rest of the city, and I had to find some way to get them all in one place, far from where the actual crime was being committed.

That is where you came in, Doctor Jones. Once you heard me say that I would be stealing the jewels from the Palace at eleven, I knew that I could count on two things: first, that you would keep this information to yourself and not divulge it to Sherringford House, and second, that you would show up sometime before eleven to rob the jewels yourself.

It only took a phone call to the police to alert them to the fact that someone would be breaking into the Palace between ten and eleven—and while they were apprehending you and Sherringford House was wasting his time in the Tower of London, I was free to commit the robbery that I had planned from the beginning.

If you will walk over to Bond Street after reading this letter, you will find a jewelry store owned by a Mr. Alastair Crown. Prior to last night, he had the Moons of Africa, three perfectly matched diamonds, on display in his window. They are now in my possession, and by the time you read this I will be out of the country.

As for the five thousand pounds, if you can convince House that he lost his wager, I happily forfeit all claim to it and gladly give it to you. It was a small enough investment, considering that it resulted in my acquiring some three million dollars’ worth of diamonds.

I realize that you may feel ill-used, but the fact of the matter is that I told both you and House the truth: I did in fact steal the Crown jewels exactly when I said I would do so. If you don't believe me, just ask Mr. Crown, who must be somewhat distraught at this moment and could doubtless use such spiritual comfort as a man of the cloth such as yourself might wish to bring him.

Yr. Obdt. Svt.,

Erich Von Horst

I crumpled up the letter and threw it on the floor, and then went out into the wilderness—which in this case happened to be a bench in Hyde Park—and had a long heart-to-heart with my Silent Partner, and we decided to pull up stakes and try our luck in some other municipality since we hadn't done all that well since arriving in London.

Then He went off to tend to other Godly business and left me to wonder why, where Erich Von Horst was concerned, I could be so stupid when I am so smart.