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Holmes might have elaborated on
this, but he did not
get
the chance. MacDonald cut in. "I'll speak for the
Yard,
Mr. Holmes, to set the matter straight. I antici
pated
a bit of resistance from the Commissioner about
this
matter. There's not much on the books and it has
been
hangin' fire for some time even though we've been
after
Chu San Fu for years. However, there's a new
scent
in the air. Somehow, knowledge of the kidnaping
of
Doctor Watson's got round. How I dinna ken for
I've
not bruited it about. But there's a lot of angry men at New Scotland
Yard and the Commissioner's one of
'em.
Count us in, Mr. Holmes—all the way."

"Allow me to endorse those
words," said Wakefield
Orloff.
"In addition, certain august personages are
much
concerned with the pending marriage of the
Chinese
princess and Maurice Rothfils. We cannot yet
prove
that she is the daughter of Chu San Fu even
though
our men in Hong Kong and Singapore are con
vinced.
If they are right, this marriage will extend the
cloak
of respectability to areas not fancied by my superiors. This
matter warrants a
carte
blanche
on
whatever assistance my organization can supply." His next words
shook me. "Besides,
I also have a personal axe to
grind."

He had to be referring to me and I
could not believe
my
ears. Save for infrequent flashes of warmth in his
manner
toward Sherlock Holmes, the security agent had always been as devoid
of sentiment or emotion as a king
cobra.
I realized that were I down to my last farthing, I
could
still consider myself a man of means. Wealth can
not
be counted in worldly goods alone. In addition, I
was
provided with the intense pleasure of seeing the su
per
sleuth of Baker Street actually appear embarrassed.
During
our long association I could count the number
of
times that had happened on one hand and have two fingers left over.
All in all, it had been quite a day.

Perhaps Holmes's eyes were
slightly misty, I cannot
be
sure. In any case, he cleared his throat, took a sip of
his
burgundy, and then a lifetime of training took over. The cold,
logical analyst was present again as his sword
of
vengeance was unsheathed.

"As Watson knows, I have been
searching the field
of
famous diamonds and have narrowed down my
search.
Is Doctor Max Bauer still in England?" Holmes addressed this
question to Wakefield Orloff.

"He has returned to Germany
but the royal jeweler, Edwin Streeter, is back in London."

"I had the pleasure of
reading parts of his well-
known
book. An appointment with the gentleman
would
be of assistance."

Orloff indicated with a nod that
the matter would be arranged.

"I need the name of the
diamond, the identity of the gem that was concealed in the Golden
Bird. That is the
password
to open closed gates. Basil Selkirk has the
stone,
I'm sure of it. But the old rogue is a bit of a
romanticist
and I might get it from him. I also need the
statue,
but Chu San Fu is going to provide that. I intend
to
write him a letter saying that if he wishes the gem, he
will
have to contact me to arrange for a fee to recover
it.
I will also demand a return of the Bird."

There was a rare twinkle in the
deep-set eyes of In
spector
MacDonald. "You intend to take on the Chink
as
a client?"

"I intend to recover the
diamond," said Holmes, and let it drop at that. He continued
looking at MacDonald. "I'll want to be sure that my letter
reaches Chu San Fu, and promptly, before he puts further plans into
action."

Slim Gilligan broke a long
silence. "I'll take the
billet
doux,
Guv.
Sydney Sid runs the biggest gin hall and slap-bang shop in Limehouse.
'E'll see that Chu gets yer
message."

Holmes seemed satisfied. "Three
men know the story of the Golden Bird. Basil Selkirk, Chu San Fu, and
my
client, D'Anglas.
If fortune smiles, I shall be able to
deal
with all three of them."

During the war council and,
indeed, thereafter, I
must
confess that I felt something of the center of attraction. When
one is associated with a great mind like
Holmes,
one becomes acutely conscious of limitations. I
knew
full well that mine was, and always had been, the
role
of associate, biographer, friend. In the amazing
number
of cases dealt with by Sherlock Holmes, I rarely
played
a major role. My friend had often stated that a
thought
or comment of mine had sparked his brilliant intellect to follow the
correct road, but that generous
admission
on his part was certainly open to question.

On this particular day, and
following ones, I was treated to the revelation that when one
associates with
greatness
there are attendant rewards. Baker Street residents, if they
were alert enough to take note, must have
felt
that the area anticipated a major outbreak of crime.
Constables
were everywhere. Our placid backwater in
the
great metropolis was blanketed with representatives of the law.
Obviously, Alec MacDonald was taking no
chances
that I might again be spirited away by minions
of
the lawless, or Holmes either. In times past, the
world's
only consulting detective had chafed at the presence of sinews
of the law, but he took these protective measures in good grace. My
friend seemed to consider Chu San Fu and his extensive criminal
organization as a snake whose fangs had been removed. Why he adopted
this casual atitude
I could not fathom.

It was the following morning that
we were honored
by a
visit of the royal jeweler, Edwin Streeter. He was a
tidy
man of medium size with keen eyes and a business
like
manner. Obviously, he had been informed by
Wakefield
Orloff that the great detective required his
knowledge
of famous gems to solve a case of importance. He did not impress
me as a waster of time.

"Tell me, Mr. Holmes, in what
area does your inter
est
lie?" he asked, immediately, after introductions.
"Mr.
Orloff indicated that it is diamonds that have
caught
your fancy."

"A large field, as Doctor
Bauer informed me. How
ever
..."

Our visitor bristled. "If you
have consulted with
Bauer,
you have little need of me, sir. He is one of the
foremost
authorities in the world."

"As you are. I have read your
Precious Stones
and
Gems
with
great interest. I consider any book that can
intrigue
and inform one who is not versed in the field
has
the quality of lasting greatness."

Streeter's brusque manner
vanished. "You are most kind, Mr. Holmes. Though I would think
that in your
profession
a knowledge of gems would be automatic."

"A surface knowledge,"
agreed Holmes. "I find the
present
problem far beyond my resources and am most
grateful
that the government has prevailed upon you to
come
to my assistance."

It crossed my mind that Holmes had
put the gentle
man
in a bit of a bind. By linking Her Majesty's gov
ernment
and Streeter's expertise, and the need of same for an undisclosed
reason, he had put the royal jeweler
on
the spot as far as cooperation was concerned. How
ever,
this was probably unnecessary. Speak to the expert of his field
and he instantly opens his book of
knowledge,
if only to prove why he is an expert.

"I am much interested in a
famous gem, one of undisputed quality, which has disappeared.
Does this suggest something to you?"

Holmes's question undoubtedly
intrigued the royal
jeweler.

"Mr. Holmes, men have died
for diamonds. Wars
have
been fought over diamonds. But very few of the
great
diamonds just disappear. There was a famous
theft
in 1792 of three of the crown jewels of France.
One
of them, the Regent, was recovered and later
adorned
the sword of Napoleon. It is in the Louvre.
The
second, the Sancy, was also recovered."

"Yes," commented Holmes.
"I am familiar with that stone."

"The last of the trio was a
rare blue diamond. It sur
faced
again, but it had been cut. The larger portion is
now
known as the Hope Diamond. It is in America.
The
smaller portion has been lost track of, but it would
not
be considered a major stone in any case."

Holmes mulled over the expert's
words for a brief moment and then embarked on a different tack. "In
my research in the field, I am confused on one point."

Streeter smiled. "Mr. Holmes,
historic diamonds
have
been a favorite subject for writers for a century or
more.
So much has been written that what is truth and
what
is fiction is sometimes hard to determine."

"The Pasha of Egypt diamond
came to my attention," said Holmes. "I note that it
was sold to the Viceroy of Egypt"

Streeter was nodding. "Fetched
a good price, too. A fine octagonal brilliant of forty carats."

"Yet I note a strange
similarity relative to another
gem,
the Pigott Diamond." Holmes referred to a book
open
on the desk. "The Pigott Diamond was disposed
of
to Ali Pasha, the Viceroy of Egypt. All trace of this
stone
has since been lost and, according to reports, it
has
been destroyed."

Streeter almost bounced up and
down in his chair. Obviously, Holmes had touched a nerve.

"That information is printed
in several authoritative
texts,
but is incorrect. The confusion is due to names.
Mr.
Holmes. I might better say: titles. The Pasha of
Egypt
Diamond was, indeed, sold to Ibrahim, Viceroy of
Egypt.
He held the title of Ali Pasha. But the Pigott—
that
is another matter. Fortunately, sir, I happen to be
the
leading authority in the world on that stone."

"And many others as well,"
said Holmes, diplomati
cally.
"But do tell us about the Pigott and the confusion
in
recognized texts on famous stones."

Streeter was delighted to comply.
"The stone got its name from Lord George Pigott, twice Governor
of Mad
ras.
Though his name has a single
t,
the diamond is
known as the
Pigott
with a double
t.
But that is of
scant interest. Lord Pigot received it as a gift from an Indian
ruler
in 1763. They did things rather in the grand man
ner
in those days. The diamond has been described as
anywhere
from forty-five to eighty-five carats. In any
case,
Lord Pigot brought it to England and undoubtedly regretted it since
he was plagued by ill fortune and died
in
prison. Later, his family put the diamond up as a
prize
in a lottery and it is sometimes referred to as the 'lottery
diamond.' It was sold for a mere fraction of its
worth—six
thousand pounds—to Rundell and Bridge,
the
London Jewelers. They turned a nice profit by sell
ing
the diamond to Ali Pasha of Albania for one
hundred
and fifty thousand pounds."