Midnight Masquerade by Joan Smith Page B

stone; it shone gold in the rays from the window.
    A quick peep at Lenore told her the woman was busy at her mirror, blending some combination of rouge and cream into the palm of her hand. In a twinkling, Deirdre reached down and garnered up the bit of sparkling metal. She could not take a good look at it till she was safely out of the room, but when she was able to do so, she saw very clearly that it was the metallic clip that had held the diamond on to the chain. There was miniature gadrooning around its edge, which made it unmistakable. There was a loop on top, which had been pulled or pried open. She pelted down the stairs as fast as her legs could carry her, still holding the red stockings in her other hand.
    Her heart was hammering when she tore into the saloon. “Belami, another clue! I’ve solved the case! It was Lenore for certain, and I have got proof.”
    “That’s not all you have got. Red silk stockings. Very daring,” he replied , smiling at her enthusiasm.
    She pulled the flesh-colored one from her pocket. “The red stockings were a red herring. She only had one of these,” she said, handing him the other. “Compare it with the other, the one with eye holes in it.”
    “I don’t have to, but I shall, for confirmation. Only the one, you say?”
    “Yes, and furthermore—voilà!” She opened her closed hand to reveal the gold trinket. “On the hearth, stuck off in a corner where we missed seeing it. It is certainly from my aunt’s necklace. I should recognize it anywhere.”
    He took it up and examined it carefully. “I wonder why I didn’t see it when I swept up the glass.”
    “If the sun hadn’t struck it at the proper angle, I’d have missed it myself,” she said forgivingly.
    “We knew he had pulled the diamond from the chain, but why remove the end piece from the diamond? It’s so small, it doesn’t make the stone any easier to hide.”
    Pronto came strolling in to ask what was afoot, and have the situation outlined. After some confusing brangling that red stockings had nothing to do with it—it was a flesh one the thief wore—it was finally explained to his satisfaction.
    “But actually it is this little golden clasp that we’re more interested in,” Belami said, and outlined its importance. He looked to the others for their ideas. He did not frequently look beyond the walls of his own body for an opinion. Insensibly, he was coming to place some trust in Deirdre’s ability as a helper.
    “Would he have recut the stone, to try to pretend it was just a number of small diamonds and not the one large one?” she asked, although feeling it was unlikely. “I have heard that thieves will do that sometimes.”
    “Not just anyone can cut a diamond. It must be done by an expert, and under very special conditions. It’s not a matter of giving it a tap with a hammer.”
    “Fell off,” Pronto told them. “Loose, from being yanked so hard from old Charney’s neck.”
    “That’s possible,” Belami agreed.
    “At least we know for certain the diamond was in that room,” Deirdre reminded them. “We also know Lenore’s stocking was used. Now that absolutely puts her in on it, in my opinion.”
    “Opinions are not absolute, but only tentative,” Belami decreed. “And we do not know for certain the diamond was in that room. We only know that you think your aunt’s clasp from the necklace was there.”
    “It is the clasp, Belami. If we’re not to trust our eyes, what are we to trust?” she demanded.
    “I accept it is the clasp, but there is no diamond with it, and we don’t know that the diamond ever was in that room.”
    “If it were someone other than Lenore, I think we would know it,” she shot back quickly.
    “Give me credit for more professionalism than overlooking evidence because I happen to like the person it incriminates,” he replied, becoming hot.
    “What more do you want?” she asked scornfully. “She is without funds, without morals, the diamond was in her