"The task is a bit more difficult than I expected," Grenville said glumly. "The thing might already be cut up and in Paris."

I had to agree. When Bartholomew and Matthias arrived, however, the blond, blue-eyed brothers were pink-faced and grinning.

"Matthias has got it, sir," Bartholomew said. He dragged a straight-backed chair from another table and straddled it back to front. "Clear as day. In a pawnbroker's near Manchester Square. One large diamond necklace, brought in not three afternoons ago."

Grenville leaned forward, excited, but I tried to keep my skepticism in place. Though I hoped we'd found an easy end to the problem, I had learned from experience that solutions did not come so readily.

We had to wait until the publican had thunked down two glasses of good, dark ale for the brothers and retreated. Matthias and Bartholomew both drank deeply, thirsty from their search, then Matthias began.

"'Twas not much of a shop," he said, wiping his mouth. "It's in a little turning full of horse dung and trash. I told the proprietor that my master was looking for something nice for his lady and sent me to scout, but I didn't mention who my master was, of course. Would have swooned if I'd told him, wouldn't he? That someone like Mr. Grenville would even think to soil his boots in such a place would have him so agitated he wouldn't be able to speak. So I kept quiet, and he came over quite chatty."

"Good thinking," I said, as Matthias paused to drink.

"What he had in the front was mostly cheap," Matthias continued. "The sort of thing I'd expect him to show gentlemen of not much means. I said that my master was looking for something better, because he'd just become flush in cash and wanted to please his lady. Well, as soon as I said that, the proprietor came over all secretive. He shut the door of the shop and drew the curtain, and told me he had something special. Something he was keeping for customers who were obviously up in the world."