Now I was really perplexed. Was it possible I had forgotten to put it on after all? No. I remembered showing it to people, mentioning how it had come from the queen and was a priceless piece. So how had it got here?

“Queenie?” I asked. I had to repeat her name, louder and louder, until she gave a final quick snort and opened her eyes. “Oh, wotcher, miss. Had a nice dance then?”

“Queenie, did anyone come into the cabin while I was out?”

“I don’t think so. I must have nodded off when it got late. But no one knocked on the door.”

It was a perplexing puzzle. Queenie helped me undress then went back to her own quarters. I half hoped that Darcy would come to visit me again, but he didn’t.

Chapter 11

MONDAY, JULY 16, 1934

New York ahead. I must say I’m excited to see America for the first time!

Our last morning on board dawned with no new reports of burglaries and we had to busy ourselves with packing my belongings, ready to go ashore. I realized then that there was no way that everyone could be searched properly. A jewel could be stuffed into the toe of a shoe, wrapped among stockings, handkerchiefs or even cut into the pages of a book. A clever thief would have no problem getting the jewel past the police.

Outside my window I saw people assembling on deck. I went to look and there in the distance was the New York skyline. I left Queenie to finish the packing and went out to join the others at the railing.

“There she is,” I heard someone say. And there ahead of us, against a sky still streaked with dawn light, was the Statue of Liberty. What an inspiring sight with her lamp glowing. I could understand why immigrants had watched her and wept. Beyond were the skyscrapers of the New York skyline. I had no idea that buildings could be so tall. We sailed closer and closer until we docked right under the shadow of those buildings. As I looked down at the dock I saw that it was swarming with policemen. Golly, I thought. Did they always search this thoroughly after a robbery? Or was it possible there was something to my suggestion that someone had done away with the real Princess Promila? Had the splash I had heard, the hair I had seen floating out, really been a person after all? A person who had been murdered first and thus not tried to struggle when she hit the water? And a person with brown skin would not have been easily identifiable as such among black waves. I felt sick just thinking about it.