Deadly Diamond

“Cats are rather delicate creatures and they are subject to a lot of ailments, but I never heard of one who suffered from insomnia.”

––Joseph Wood Crutch

CHAPTER NINE: Althea’s Secret Life

Since Misty was the only one of us cats who’d seen the thief with and without his disguise, it made sense to post her at the front door, with Pooky nearby for reinforcement. The only napping allowed were catnaps, and that didn’t make anybody happy.

The well-dressed woman now standing at the counter ruined my first catnap of the day. I sensed an aura of suspense surrounding her and looked her over carefully.

Alyx asked her if she needed assistance.

“Yes, I’m looking for Alyx Hille.”

“I’m Alyx. How can I help you?”

I assumed the woman was there to see her about a decorating job––she wasn’t. She introduced herself as Carole Berth, Althea’s niece.

“It’s nice to meet you, Carole,” said Alyx. “I wish we’d met under different circumstances. I’m sorry about your aunt; she was a lovely lady and will be missed.”

“I didn’t see or speak to my aunt often, so I don’t know if she has any friends. She mentioned your name the last time I spoke to her. I know you’ve been kind to her, and I wanted to thank you and let you know that there are no funeral arrangements; Detective Smarts said you asked.”

Alyx nodded her head, and Carole continued. She’s simply going to be buried at Shady Rest’s convenience.”

“I did ask Detective Smarts,” replied Alyx, “and thank you for letting me know.”

“Did my aunt tell you much about herself?”

“No, not very much. I met her last spring when she saw the desk in the window. She came in to look and we chatted for a while. She seemed lonely, and I invited her to come back any time. Sometimes she came in to browse, and other times to talk. Maggie, my business partner, and I tried to have lunch with her about once a month.”

“Did she tell you she was in a mental institution for ten years because of that desk, or I should say, one like it?”

“No, she didn’t,” answered Alyx.

I wondered why this woman was revealing Althea’s intimate secrets to Alyx, and at the same time, intrigued by what she was saying.

After several customers came in the store, looked in their direction, and impatiently waited for assistance, Alyx suggested to Carole that they move to the workroom for privacy.

Carole took a seat on the couch and Alyx joined her, with me tailing behind. “Why did she move from Umatilla? Althea never said.”

“When my uncle died,” explained Carole, “Aunt Althea packed up and moved away. I was okay with it until she told me about the desk in your store.”

“I don’t understand. What bothered you about the desk?”

Carole took a deep breath, looked around the room, spotted the coffee pot, and asked if she could have a cup. Alyx apologized for not asking her sooner, and quickly stepped to the credenza, filled a mug with black coffee as requested, brought the mug back to her seat, and handed it to Carole.

“Did she tell you about the one like it that she’d purchased in Africa?”

“She told me that her husband––your uncle––was an overseer in a counting house for a diamond mining company. She said she joined him in Sierra Leone shortly after they were married, and while on their honeymoon, they attended an auction where she saw a desk like the one here in our store, and fell in love with it.”

“Did she tell you about the diamond hidden in the desk?”

“Yes. Althea shared the story with me and Maggie more than once, and it never varied, which led me to believe that maybe some of it was true.”

I too had heard the story once or twice about a young man who worked in the diamond mines and who fell in love with the daughter of a rich diamond company executive. Her father forbade the relationship, and they decided to run away. The young man stole a diamond, the means to their happiness together, and brought it to her. She had the diamond in her hand when the company guards burst in and shot him. They said that she hid the diamond in the desk as a reminder of his love, and so no one could ever prove that he stole it. She didn’t want her unborn child’s father branded as a thief. She never married and kept the desk until she died.

“More than likely,” explained Carole, “the story was fabricated by the auctioneer in order to get more bidders. My uncle said that from the time Aunt Althea brought that desk home, she became obsessed with finding the hidden diamond. She was positive there was a secret compartment where the diamond was hidden.”

“I never would have thought wealth meant that much to her,” said Alyx.

“It didn’t. Finding the diamond did.”

“She told me the desk burned down with the house after they left Sierra Leone. Is that true?” asked Alyx.

“Yes,” replied Carole, “it’s true the desk burned, but it was my uncle who burned it. That’s when she really lost it and my uncle had to put her in a private institution.”

“Did your uncle blame her for what happened?”

“No, not her––the desk. You see, about a year after she acquired the desk, their two-month-old son disappeared from his room. Althea was home and said she didn’t hear anything; she was in the living room searching for the hidden diamond in the desk.”

Alyx’s hand flew to cover her gaping mouth.

“She never told you about it, did she?”

Alyx shook her head. “What happened to the baby?”

“My uncle paid the kidnappers the ransom they demanded––but they never saw their child again––dead or alive.”

Carole took several sips of coffee and Alyx waited for her to continue.

“When she saw the desk in your shop window, she called me. She was so excited, she could hardly speak.”

“Now, wait a minute,” Alyx interrupted, “She told me her original desk burned. She didn’t really think our desk was the same desk, did she?”

Carole shrugged and reached for the mug, and held it aloft for a few seconds before she took a sip and set it down again.

“I don’t know. She never said she did; but in her crazy, confused state of mind, who knows.” Carole stood and placed the coffee mug on the credenza. “Her will stipulates that everything is to go to me upon her death. I don’t want or need any of her things, and that’s why I’m here. Would you be interested in buying the contents of the condominium?”

“Well, maybe not everything. Some of the pieces for sure––if we can agree on a price.”

Carole opened her elegant Gucci purse and took out a key. “I would like for you to determine what it’s all worth and send me a check. In fact, keep the key until everything is gone and mail it back with the check. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you’d organize and box her papers and such, and leave those for me. Then all I have to worry about is selling her condominium. Detective Smarts said you were also interested in taking her cat. I didn’t know she had one.”

“She told me he appeared at her door at about the same time she first came into our shop.”

“Well, if you find him, he’s yours,” concluded Carole.

Two thoughts came to my mind upon hearing this conversation: Was Althea’s death somehow connected to the diamond stolen from Hall’s Jewelry? Or was it something else altogether? After hearing what Althea’s niece had to say, I now had my doubts. What if in her twisted thinking, Althea believed that the desk in our shop was the same desk that she’d had in Africa, and she’d told someone here in Beachside about the diamond in the desk story?