The Case of the Scarlet Brooch
Chapter 12Prudence stared at the two men with glassy eyes. "I . . . I don't know."
"Who else has a key to this jewelry box, Mrs. Simington?" Jeff asked. He examined the brooches in front of him. One of them could have passed as the original - until it was compared to the second one. There was a difference in color that couldn't be ignored. The real rubies were dark, fiery red; a far cry from the pale imitations. "Mrs. Simington?"
"I, uh . . . I. No one."
Prudence Simington was telling the truth, of that Stu was certain. That only left three options – McCormick Simington, the unnamed butler, or Iris Huntington. The butler was a stretch. Iris might have forgotten where she put the original, but why the duplicates? That left only one logical possibility, Prudence's husband, McCormick Simington. "What about your husband, Mrs. Simington?"
"No, he doesn't have a key," she replied, confident of her answer.
"Do you ever remove the chain?" Stu persisted.
"Why, yes, I take it off at night. But why would McCormick . . . ?" she stopped suddenly, afraid to finish asking the question.
"Is your husband at home, Mrs. Simington?" Jeff questioned.
"He was, Mr. Spencer," Prudence answered, having recovered her composure.
"Perhaps we should speak to Mr. Simington. Unless you have a reason for us not to?"
"No, no I have no reason you shouldn't. I'll find out where he is." Prudence walked over to her mother's bed and pulled a velvet rope, summoning the butler. When he appeared in the doorway she asked, "Simon, where is Mr. Simington?"
"He's in the study, madam. Shall I get him for you?"
"No, we'll join him there."
Simon bowed and disappeared as quickly as he'd appeared. "Come with me, please," Prudence requested, uncertainty mixed with a touch of fear in her voice. She led them back down the staircase and towards the east wing of the house. When they finally reached a closed door she knocked and waited for her husband's voice.
"Come in."
Prudence opened the door and entered, Jeff and Stu following her in. Spencer was carrying the two brooches, having removed them from the jewelry box before leaving the bedroom. "Darling, these are the two men Mother hired to find her brooch, Mr. Spencer and Mr. Bailey. They have some questions they'd like to ask you."
"Yes?" Simington asked with a touch of irritation in his voice.
"Mr. Simington, we found these in your mother-in-law's jewelry box. Do you have any idea why?"
"Why what?"
Stu stepped in. "Why there were two of them in the secret compartment, the original and an exact copy? And how they could have both gotten there?"
"Why are you asking me? I have nothing to do with Iris' things."
"As you well know, Mr. Simington, it takes a key to open Mrs. Huntington's jewelry box. A key that your wife wears on a chain around her neck," Stu explained.
"That she takes off at night," Jeff quickly followed. "And you're the only person that would have access to that key. So tell us, Mr. Simington, just how many duplicates did you have made? And who did you intend to sell the original to?"
Stu finished the questions. "And perhaps you'd like to tell us why?"
McCormick Simington wore an expression of defiance on his face for almost a minute before it slowly changed to one of guilt. Still he tried to lie his way out of it. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Perhaps you'd like us to call Mrs. Huntington and tell her what we've found? And where we found it?" Jeff had already seen the change in Simington's demeanor, and knew they had their answer to where the brooch had gone. But they didn't yet know why it had disappeared.
"For God's sake, Mick, why would you steal Mother's brooch?" Prudence questioned frantically. "We certainly don't need the money."
"Are you sure about that, Mrs. Simington?" Stuart asked. "I think perhaps you'd better ask your husband if it's still true."
"Mick? We don't need money, do we?" Now the questions were quiet and pleading. A desperate wife asking her husband to tell her that everything was alright.
But McCormick Simington looked at his wife and his façade crumbled. "I wish I could tell you . . . but I can't, Pru. We do. I had some investments go bad . . . I tried every other way out . . . I've even had the house for sale for months . . . that's why I had the duplicate brooches made. I was going to sell the original and replace it with one of the fakes. Iris' eyesight has gotten worse, and I thought she'd never notice the difference." When he raised his head to look into his wife's eyes, there were tears of shame and embarrassment in his own.
"How many duplicates did you have made?" Stu asked.
"Four, altogether. Sara Beth, Janie Lee, Lilith and Pru's. I wanted to confuse Iris, to make her think she'd lost the original." Simington heaved a big sigh. "Will I be arrested?"
"That's up to Mrs. Huntington," Stu answered. "If she wants to press charges, you will."
"If this wasn't family-related, we'd be calling the police right now, Mr. Simington. You're guilty of Grand Theft."
"Where is Mother right now, Mr. Spencer? Which residence did you call?"
"Santa Barbara."
"Thank you. I assume you'll be taking the original with you?" Prudence asked.
"Yes," Jeff answered.
"I'll be calling Mother as soon as you gentlemen leave. And then," she turned to face her husband, "Mick and I will be having a long talk."
While Prudence was speaking, Jeff was slipping the real scarlet brooch into an evidence bag to protect it. He handed the copy back to Prudence. "I'll show you gentlemen out."
XXXXXXXX
Jeff and Stu were sitting in the car, both men smoking. "That's not the way I expected this visit to go," Jeff said as he took another drag on his cigarette.
"There weren't too many other ways it could have gone," Stu remarked as he blew out smoke. "The only other resolution than finding the brooch here was that it had actually been lost. And that wouldn't have explained the duplicates."
"I suppose you're right. I certainly never expected this one little case to take up so much of our time."
"Neither did I. But at least it's solved. All that's left is to call Mrs. Huntington and present her with her options. Which is your job, my friend," Stu laughed, patting Jeff on the arm.
"Don't remind me," his partner begged.
"I tell you what, I'll take you to dinner this evening after you're finished."
"You've got a deal, Bailey."