Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 5, No. 19, November 1944

“Those poor, underpaid doctors!” said Fidelity. “And the overworked nurses! And the needy cases crying for admission — or is it perhaps a wealthy hospital?”

“There’s a notice up saying if they don’t get twenty thousand in three months they will have to close a wing,” said Gorse.

“They have given their skill unstintingly to a suffering fellow creature. They have but cast their bread upon the waters—”

“Fidelity!” groaned Gorse. He would have died for Fidelity, as would any other member of her gang, but he alone believed her to be an utter humbug.

“My friend, you are always cruel to me, though you love me,” sighed Fidelity. “And because I love you, I must please you. Listen, and tell me if this pleases you.”

“I’m listening,” grunted Gorse, and waited.

Fidelity’s voice, when she spoke again, held the low call of birds at dusk.

“Tell Varley, our jeweller, to buy fifty thousand pounds’ worth of pearls from the best firms he can,” she said.

Gorse brightened.

“I thought you’d get down to brass tacks sooner or later, Fidelity!” he said, and left the room to carry out her order.

Jabez Crewde had the usual handful of spare-time agents, and it took no more than a few days for Fidelity to contrive that one of them should approach her. Within a week of her conversation with Gorse, she was sitting timidly in a dingy room in the drab house in Islington, which served Mr. Crewde for an office as well as a living-room.

“I... I have heard that you were ill and I hope you are better,” said Fidelity in the tone of one who desires to placate a moneylender.

“I have to be better, Miss Dove,” answered Crewde. “In these hard times I cannot afford a long illness. What do you want me to do for you?”

“I... I understood you were a financier,” began Fidelity, “and I am in a difficulty which you will understand even better than I. A friend of mine, who knows all about stocks and shares, has told me that if I could invest five thousand pounds now it would be worth thirty-five thousand in a few days.”

Jabez Crewde had no difficulty in suppressing a smile. It was a part of his profession to listen to fantastic tales.

“Go on, Miss Dove,” said Crewde. “As long as you’re not going to suggest that I should lend you the five thousand.”

“Oh, but I was going to suggest just that,” said Fidelity. “You see, I have not the five thousand pounds, and it seems such an awful pity to miss this chance. I don’t know anything about money, but with thirty-five thousand pounds I need never think about it again. That is why I am so anxious to avail myself of this opportunity.”

Mr. Crewde’s eyes strayed to Fidelity’s bag. It was of grey brocade — a dainty, home-like affair that suggested knitting and mothers’ meetings and little rewards for good children.

“Are you offering any security?” he asked.

“You mean stocks and shares,” divined Fidelity. “I’m afraid I haven’t any. The only thing I have of any value is the jewellery my great-uncle left me. I must not sell it, and — in my sect we do not wear jewellery — so I thought that if I were to leave the jewellery with you and pay you back when I have the thirty-five thousand pounds—?”

“Have you any idea what the jewellery is worth?” asked Crewde, while Fidelity produced and opened a number of leather cases.

“It was valued at the time of my uncle’s death,” said Fidelity. “The assessor said it was worth a little over fifty thousand pounds. It seemed to me terrible that so much money should be spent upon adornments.”

Mr. Crewde began an expert scrutiny of the pearls. He was inclined to agree with the assessor as to their worth. He was inclined to think, now that he had taken stock of Fidelity’s perfect grey tailor-made and her little white hat, that she was an extravagant and helpless fool.

“They are good pearls, though they’re not worth anything like that at the present time,” he said presently. “And I don’t as a rule lend money upon jewellery. Have you no other securities?”

“None whatever, I fear,” said Fidelity in dejection.

That was what Mr. Crewde wanted to know. It is of little use to a moneylender to have a very valuable pledge on a small loan if the client has other securities, because the pledge can always be redeemed. But when the very valuable pledge represents the only security, it is reasonably certain to pass into the hands of the moneylender — especially when the loan is made for the purposes of a get-rich-quick scheme.

“Oh, well, I don’t know I’m sure!” Mr. Crewde was muttering with professional reluctance. “Everybody seems to be borrowing money just now. How soon do you expect your... er... your profits to come in, Miss Dove?”

“My friend said in six weeks’ time,” answered Fidelity.

“Six weeks! H’m! I might just be able to manage it.”

Fidelity began to thank him.

“You’re quite sure you can pay it back in the six weeks, mind?” challenged Mr. Crewde.

“Oh, perfectly sure,” exclaimed Fidelity. “My friend was most positive.”