Sea Gem (19 page)

Mary sat back, appearing to be casual but taut and on edge. She had turned this idea over in her mind during the last boring weeks of her pregnancy. Would Tante approve? Was her idea sound?

Tante weighed up the pros and cons. After this theft, the disposal would remove a major worry. If she fell in with Mary’s idea, it would mean a lot of work initially: holiday-makers as
well as glasshouse produce. There would have to be two sets of accounts, much running around to begin with to check upon the properties. There would have to be a system to deliver and collect keys;
allowances for breakages, probably transport arrangements. A host of problems lifted quick heads and waved them.

‘Well?’ Mary asked softly.

‘I like it!’ Tante pronounced. ‘But it’s not for me. I’m too old. It would all fall upon your shoulders and now you have three children,’ she pointed out
shrewdly. ‘You don’t get any help from Duret, do you? No!’ She shook her head; the day was coming when she would have to have a serious talk with her grandson.

Mary pulled a face. ‘He’s rarely in the house. I don’t know where he goes and I don’t think I care any more now.’

Tante regarded her thoughtfully. ‘But you have Edwin,’ she hinted.

Mary gave her a long look, keeping her features impassive. ‘That was over nine months ago. We’ve had a lot of tides since then. Anyhow I like to be fully occupied. I’d love to
get involved in something like holiday cottage lets,’ she explained firmly, changing the subject away from Duret and their marriage.

Louise realised Mary had firmly put her down in a tactful way. Where exactly
did
Duret spend his free time? She made herself think on these new business lines. ‘If we used someone
well known and our intentions became common knowledge, prices will shoot up. Let me think about this. We need a lawyer, not long qualified who doesn’t have many clients. Offer him a retainer
as well as pay his fees and let him buy to preserve our anonymity.’ She paused: ‘Sam must go over to France for us, but this time no money is to be carried. Letters of Credit or
Bankers’ Drafts—’

‘Or Credit Transfers!’ Mary added.

‘You have been doing a lot of thinking,’ Tante praised. Then she made a rare, snap decision. ‘We’ll do it. We have nothing to lose and perhaps much to gain as well as
peace of mind. My father must be spinning in his grave. He worked long and hard to acquire capital for the family.’

Mary’s lips twitched. She had a shrewd idea it might have all been illegal too from what she knew about the Penfords in general.

* * *

Gwen lifted baby Edwin into his pram while Margaret fidgeted nearby but William stood silently watching all that was going on.

‘At least Mary had plenty of milk for this one, unlike William,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Good job too. He has a healthy appetite.’

Emily threw her a grim look but passed no comment. Margaret and William missed little that was said. Margaret would pass a childish comment but William would simply stare in silence at the
commenting adult. Of course, Mary had had no milk for William. There was no rapport then or now despite the attention Mary lavished on William. They had never bonded. Luckily William liked Gwen
but, Emily mused, was that because he was aware he was tiny and weak. He might become difficult as he grew and strengthened. The only person William appeared to like wholeheartedly was his father,
which was strange, Emily reflected, considering how little Duret saw of his children. He was rarely in the house nowadays.

‘That’s another thing,’ Gwen mused more to herself this time. ‘What is wrong with the folks in this house? There’s Mary walking around lost in deep thoughts, just
as bad as her husband. Sam doesn’t have a word to say to anyone and you’d think the pair of them carried the woes of the world upon their backs. Look! Off down to see the old girl
again, walking side by side but not speaking.’

Emily too had noticed the atmosphere but she was an incurious person. As long as she had work to do which she enjoyed and was left alone to do it her way, nothing troubled her. She was one of
life’s creatures born without curiosity, quite happy with her lot in life. Let anything trouble or attack the Noyen family though and she would change, in a flash, to a seething hell cat.

Her helper Gwen was different. She was totally unlike her bother Raoul, as dark as she was fair. As the firstborn, she had been a pushy child and had not really lost this trait, which made her
ideal to discipline the children.

The Noyen children disturbed Gwen. She ached for her own and a cottage. Although neither pretty nor beautiful, she was often described as fetching. Recently a young fisherman had started to hang
around the lane and Gwen was torn; delighted that someone found her attractive but sad at the thought of leaving the Noyens in the future.

Emily had taken a rooted dislike to the young man on the odd times she had met him when he called at the back door for Gwen’s finishing time. She was sure Raymond Falla was not the right
person for Gwen. He was a pleasant enough young man, healthy but from a poor family. He was polite to Emily and any family members he met, yet Emily did not like the thin set of his lips. She also
thought his chin was on the weak side and his eyes crafty.

She sighed as Gwen went out with the children. It seemed there might be a lot to say for her single state after all. Emily had had her chances but dithered once too often. The years had flown by
until one day she realised young men no longer came a-calling on her. It was then she threw herself, body and soul, into the fortunes of the Noyen family. She had never regretted this although
sometimes her eyes lingered wistfully upon Sam Mahy. He was still a fine figure of a man but Sam had never viewed her as interesting even though she was a well fleshed woman. Emily was just the
means to keep the house ticking over efficiently. Sometimes though, Emily could not help wistful daydreams regarding widower Sam Mahy.

Now she too peered from the window and watched Sam and Mary walk down to Louise’s cottage. What on earth could they be going to discuss now? Sam and Mary had spent hours with the old lady
in the past three days.

‘Well Sam,’ Tante commenced, ‘your views on Emily and Gwen.’

Sam grunted. ‘Forget Emily. She’s not over bright enough for a well planned job like this theft and planned it certainly had to be.’ He paused thinking carefully. ‘Gwen?
No. She’s sharper than Emily but I don’t consider her dishonest. Also, at the moment she’s being courted by young Falla and all she can think of is getting married, a home and
babies. Can’t say I care for Falla myself. He’s from around the Bay area but Gwen steal?’ He shook his head. ‘As to young Falla. He’s not from our parish and
he’d never dare. Too many people have seen him hanging around this lane waiting for Gwen to finish work. If he had set one toe up your garden path, someone would have seen and spoken by
now,’ he told Tante decidedly.

Louise nodded thoughtfully. ‘All of that is quite true which leaves us with no bright ideas at all as to the thief’s identity.’

Sam decided to change the line of conversation. The mistress looked depressed again. ‘You want me to go over to France?’

Mary and Louise replied with nods. Mary then explained. ‘The remaining diamonds must be hidden well. I could sew them into your vest,’ she offered.

Sam looked after himself very well and was quite adept with a needle if his socks were anything to go by but discreet, little pockets would be another matter. Tante stayed quiet. She knew
everything was just about out of her hands and she was not sorry. Mary must organise it all. What she could still do was to put her ear to the ground to locate an appropriate lawyer. It was
terrible they could not get Duret’s help. She took a deep breath, acknowledging how disappointed she was in him. Where had her high hopes and dreams gone? Marriage had made him worse not
better.

‘What do you think of the whole plan now, Sam?’ Mary ended.

Sam was stunned with the details. There was a beautiful simplicity that gave indication this could only be a sound venture. It was highly unusual and cottage lets, advertised properly on the
mainland, should promote good business in time.

‘I like it,’ he said gruffly. ‘Ten out of ten for whoever thought of it!’ he praised and looked at them in turn. Tante nodded towards Mary who blushed with pleasure.

‘It will indeed take time to get off the ground and perhaps even years before any of the lets can pay for just one cottage but I think properties might increase in capital value over the
years,’ she explained as Tante nodded vigorously. ‘Also a cottage is not stealable,’ she added grimly.

‘What do you think we should do about the police, Sam?’ Tante asked.

Sam shook his head. ‘Do nothing is my advice at the present. We have nothing for them to work on, in the first place. Also I sometimes think the police know nothing until they are told.
However I’ll tell you what I propose to do. As I go about the island I’ll keep my ears open. I know many people and I hear more because I do not gossip. A word here, another there, can
be built up into a picture—then, and only then, should we go to the police.’

Tante was not quite happy with this. ‘But until then we end up suspecting everyone.’

Sam sat back and filled his pipe, taking his time to tamp the tobacco in exactly as he liked it. He took even longer to light it with a paper spill then, sucking and inhaling, he enjoyed the
nicotine’s bite. He was impressed. The plan was very good and he eyed Mary surreptitiously. In this he could see her hand alone. The day had finally arrived, he mused to himself. The mistress
had finally turned the family affairs over to Mary whom, he reasoned, was mature and more than ready for this responsibility. It was the end of an era, which had begun more years ago than he cared
to remember.

“The Queen is dead,” he told himself. “Long live the Queen!”

Two days later Sam presented himself for inspection. Not a diamond showed on his person because Mary had made cunning, little pockets with an overflap for safety. Each had been attached just in
front of the vest seam and diamonds nestling in all of them.

‘That will do nicely,’ Tante approved.

‘Yes!’ Mary agreed, hands clasped together with satisfaction. It all depended upon Sam now but he was quite unfazed by the responsibility. He was solid, reassuring and utterly
dependable, yet appeared as a simple tradesman off on some minor matter.

‘I’ll telegraph as soon as the money is on its way to the bank,’ he told them, ‘but do not be alarmed if I am away longer than we have allowed. I am not going to sell to
the first dealer. I intend to play one against the other to push the price up. Rough stones of this carat are worth plenty of money. I’ll also be listening to all the gossip I can hear. There
is no telling what I might not pick up in France even. News always travels quickly when it is bad.’

Mary and Louise nodded in sober agreement, then kissed him farewell. Sam gave them a wink, put his pipe in his mouth and sauntered down the path as if he were going for a stroll along the
front.

* * *

James le Canu was twenty-seven years of age and newly established in a small practice, which he had been able to purchase with the proceeds of an unexpected legacy.

He was of average height with dark straight hair, darker eyebrows and eyes almost black in colour. His skin was permanently tanned, the colouring due to the wind and salt not the sun because le
Canu had a secret love affair. She was a small yacht, which he adored to the total exclusion of nearly anything else in his leisure hours.

As he sat in his private office, he drummed his fingers on his green leather-covered desk. It had been bought cheaply then renovated by a skilled craftsman. Now the desk gleamed with age and
loving care. James le Canu realised it was a little too luxurious for his humble office because his practice was so small. He had one typist and a middle-aged woman as receptionist which number of
staff were more than enough because times were hard. Business was slow in beating a path to his door.

Like any good Guernsey man, it had never entered his head to practise anywhere else but in St Peter Port. What he had not calculated was the fact that the established lawyers, with their well
heeled clients, took the best business. All that came to his door were trivial bits and pieces which bored the wealthier advocates.

It was not that the young lawyer was fussy. He knew only too well a newly qualified man like himself, without family connections, would have to start off with the dross so why did Madam Noyen
wish to see him?

A well established family like the Noyens always used a much larger practice and he was puzzled and perturbed why they wished to turn to him. His integrity was his pride; his honesty
unimpeachable but he knew, without hesitation, he would send even the most illustrious Guernsey citizen packing if they were up to no good. This would not endear himself to the affluent but he had
his principles and to these he would always stick. Why did Madam Noyen wish to consult him?

The door opened after a discreet tap and his typist entered with, behind her, a woman of his own height and generation.

‘Madam Noyen, sir!’ she intoned dutifully and withdrew.

James le Canu stood, walked around his great desk, extended his hand and placed a friendly smile on his face. He was even more intrigued. This was not the old battleaxe of tempestuous
legend.

Mary returned his smile and studied him as she sat down. He picked up a pencil and pulled a large notepad before him and she sensed some odd kind of tension. She decided to speak first.

‘Mr le Canu,’ she began carefully, ‘it has been decided to go into the property business. After discussion with Madam Noyen senior, we thought it would be prudent if someone
were to purchase on our behalf. I will explain all the reasons. Apart from your usual fee, we would also pay you a reasonable retainer for exclusivity.’

Mary proceeded to explain in detail while le Canu listened in total silence. Now and again he made a jotting on his pad while he could hardly credit this good fortune. This work, being offered
to him alone, was the type he would enjoy. A retainer, plus the normal conveyancing fees, would ensure a stable income for a considerable time in the future. He understood now the reason for the
visit. With a project such as this, an unknown lawyer would be far more valuable than an established one. When the details were completed he regarded the young woman carefully.