The arrival of the Morceau de Ferraille Diamond in Paris had been anticipated for more than a year. The rarest and most magnificent diamond on earth is as mysterious as it is beautiful. Its existence was not confirmed until 1944 and for the last forty years the gem has been in a secure vault protected by an elite team of guards: sharpshooters, martial artists and one Greco-Roman wrestler, (a pity hire; the unemployable nephew of the current owner, his name a mystery as well).
Why the request from Monsieur Boviné, the curator of the prestigious Musée de le contenu d’Une Poube in the 8th Arrondissement of Paris to put the diamond on temporary display was granted is yet another mystery in this bizarre tale. But it was granted, and the jewel arrived at its temporary home under ponderously heavy security.
One day before the display was to be opened to the public, or as M. Boviné like to call the public “les paysans non laves,” a private showing for only a select few patrons and the French Glitteratti took place in the main gallery. Just moments after the last person left the viewing room to partake of a glass of 1996 Dom Pérignon Rose Gold, and a plate of Black Beluga Caviar, a man, flabby and disheveled but with a pronounced anatomical anomaly in the shorts of his Greco-Roman wrestling leotard, burst out of the viewing room and exclaimed to M. Boviné’s horror, “NOBODY MOVE, STOP! The diamond is gone!”
After M. Boviné’s initial stunned reaction which included projectile vomiting his double portion of Beluga onto the 400 year old Ishfahan rug, he gathered himself and made the only call to be made at a time like this. “Operator, It is a matter of utmost urgency! Connect me with Inspector Cretín!”
The fabled Inspector arrived with his usual non-arrival. He simply was not there and then was, moving through the crowd silently, like an eel through a gelatinous bed of ancient mucous-like sea kelp, letting no face go unseen, no detail unnoticed, recorded forever in the cerebellum of his remarkable brain, nestled comfortably between the amygdala and the hippocampus, to be recalled when piecing together the 1001 piece jigsaw puzzle of a solid black canvas that is this mystery; extracting salient details, categorizing and sorting for sequential recall when need to build dramatic impact as the tensions rise to the final crescendo, the moment of truth, the dénouement! (Side Note: When nominating me for a Pulitzer please refer the committee to the previous sentence. I think we all agreee: “Pure Genius!”).
“M. Boviné,” the Inspector began, his well-modulated voice rising above the din, commanding attention from the restless crowd, “please record the names and pertinent information from all those in attendance tonight and then and excuse all of them immediately. All, that is, but the last four to view the diamond and the security guard that reported the theft. I shall see them one at a time in your office if that meets with your approval?” The final statement a matter of courtesy as none would dare object or even question the Inspector’s instructions. Although posed as questions all knew they were orders to be carried out without question and with great alacrity.
Having anticipated Cretín’s request Boviné had set up his office with a bottle of the Inspector’s drink of choice, Icelandic glacier water on his desk and a decanter of Louis XIII Cognac in his bottom drawer, ready for the inevitable celebration once the case was solved and the diamond safely returned. He handed the inspector a typewritten list of suspects with a few known details, derived from their exhaustive pre-invitation background check. Boviné took the Inspector’s total lack of acknowledgement of his effort as a compliment; two masters of their craft working in sync without unnecessary communication or florid recognition. Okay, we’ll go with that.
The Suspect List:
Mademoiselle Meredith Menses: Called “Merde” by her friends she is the youngest Patron of the Musée since relocating from New Zealand a year ago to give her elderly and fabulously rich husband some time and space to concentrate on his ongoing battle with E.D. So kind-hearted and in love with her husband, Merde did not want to flaunt her almost nightly indiscretions under his nose. Ostentatiously wealthy with an impressive collection of her own consisting of multiple named diamonds she wantonly displays at every opportunity.
St. John Tallywacker: British royalty, distant nephew of Robert, the Fourth Earl of Bollox, twice removed. Hails from Stroke-on-Avon, a small hamlet behind London’s rear end. He came to Paris specifically to attend tonight’s gala and let things cool down in Stroke after the “scum-sucking pig-sodding tabloids” his words, published a story he calls fake news though it contained irrefutably documented facts regarding the unfortunate incident near the state campus that ended with an edict banning him from ever being within 1000 meters of an English schoolyard.
Mr. Bernie Fingerman: Nouveau riche owner of Fingerman’s Discount Emporium where, his adverts announce, “Come in and snatch a five finger discount at Fingerman’s!” He is here as the representative of the U.S.A. branch of the Friend’s of the Musée, a group that raises considerable funds for the French Museum because there is certainly no need for charitable organizations in the United States as the streets are paved with gold, all the children are fed and educated and quality healthcare is available to all based on their need without regard to their ability to pay. And there was that little misunderstanding that reporter put in a bad light by characterizing it as “a clear case of theft of charitable donations.”
Ms. Beghar Chaiwalla: Said to be a direct descendant of Shambu Singh of the Mewar Dynasty although it might actually have been that she once heard Shamu Sing…at Seaworld. (the previous oh so cheesy pun does not actually work but I wrote it and went with it. For this I truly deserve your derision). While she maintains the aura of great wealth there are signs that it is all an intricate ruse for some more sinister purpose…a diamond theft perhaps?
Prince Apu bin Sevenleven: Security guard, aggressive Greco-Roman westler and nephew of the purported agoraphobic owner of the diamond in question. Little is known of his background other than he likes rolling on the mat with sweaty men and that his wrestling attire leaves little to the imagination and affords others an astounding view of an almost unearhtly large bulge in his nether regions. He has accompanied the diamond since its arrival and probably since its departure from the vault. Or has he?
Inspector Cretín imprinted the facts in his mind and addressed the remaining five suspects in the room. “Do not say another word to each other until you come into my office. I will ask you one question and one question only: “Did you steal the the Morceau de Ferraille Diamond?” Be prepared to answer the question including all the details regarding your whereabouts throughout the evening. And above all, answer honestly. There will be NO second chances. If you utter a single falsehood you will be caught and the hammer of justice will fall quickly upon your head. I will personally see to it that you are forever referred to by the sobriquet “liarliar” and your named followed by the phrase “pants on fire!” The suspects were visibly shaken. And with good reason.
Ignoring the order, Fingerman was first to break the silence that always follows a Cretín pronouncement: “See here Cretin I am due back at the hotel in 15 minutes for a conference call. You can’t keep me here, I know my rights!”
“You are not at home in America Mr. Fingerman and I know better than you your rights in France. You have the right to sit down and do as you are told! And my name is not pronounced Kree-tin but rather Kray-Teen, accent grave over the i!” Sacre bleu, Americans! mused the inspector to himself, they are so entitled and believe their obsession with showering daily gives them some moral superiority,
“After the questioning we all will reconvene in this room;. M. Boviné, Commandant de Police Jean d’Arme, please see that no one leaves.” Having admonished the fearful group, the Inspector entered the office and awaited his first interview.
In the interest of time I have condensed the notes and will share with you a few of the salient points of the inspectors brutal questioning so that you may mentally conduct your own investigation to match your skills against those of the Inspector. Cretín’s admonition regarding one question and one question only was pure bologna (or baloney for those not familiar with the jingle, Oscar Meyer has a way with B-O-L-O-G-N-A) , simply created by the master interrogator himself to keep the suspects off balance.
- Menses: In a particularly bitchy mood, snapping her answers in a most disagreeable manner. Friends often noted that this is standard approximately one week every month. Suspicious spots of red on her clothing. Seemed forthright, no strings attached. Nicotine stain on her index finger.
- Tallywacker: All confirm he was the first of the 5 out of the room. Nothing in his past to suggest a larcenous streak. He may have doubled back but lacking evidence he is the least likely suspect and insisted he must return to Blighty because Bob’s his uncle and will vouch for him.
- Fingerman: Rumors of a reversal of business fortune moves him forward on the list of compelling motives. He was seen entering the viewing room multiple times which he attributed to being attracted to shiny things. Had a piece of tissue attached to the heel of his left shoe.
- Chaiwalla: Very humble and refused to speculate on the others. She had a deftly drawn Yin-Yang tattoo on her left shoulder blade which she reluctantly bared believing my calculated lie that it was necessary to clear her name and those of her honored ancestors. Her soft shoulder shone with vibrant jet black ink, her creamy skin exuding a scent that can only be described as a field of lavender mixed with honeysuckle and citrus and… Perhaps I am oversharing.
- Sevenleven: Distraught and nervous opining that his lapse may well cost him his life. He was sitting and when leaving the room he moved slowly and seemed to be insecure about his appearance in the Greco-Roman leotard even though his greatest asset was on display. One might say he was expressing an uncharacteristic shyness.
The interrogations completed the entire group reassembled in the lounge where Talleywacker and Fingerman grabbed the last of the flutes containing the now warm and flat Dom. “Still beats Brut from California, eh Tallywacker?” Fingerman continued turning to the ladies, each in taking a seat on the luxurious pair of adjacent Minotti Torii arm chairs by the window. “Champaign Ladies?” Chaiwalla respnded that she doe not drink and Menses declined but said she would be grateful for a Midol if anyone had a pill. “Hey Apu, standing there, over by the door. You are looking mighty guilty.”
A hush fell over the room as Inspector Cretín, Monsieur Bovine and Commandant Jean d’Arme entered the room, all with blank expressions yet making piercing eye contact with each of the suspects in rapid succession. Inspector Cretín broke the silence, “Please remain seated and bear with me for a moment longer.” Gliding across the room he entered the dimly lit chamber that had so recently been home to the world’s rarest diamond. The suspects gazes followed him and also noticed that there was now a police guard at each of the exits.
In less than ten minutes Inspector Cretín returned carrying a hard, brown Russet potato, perhaps seven inches long with a four inch circumference. All eyes were on the object as he set it on the bar and said “I found this clumsily hidden in the gallery. It is all just as I expected and since it is late and we all wish to go home, and all but one of us will! ” Then dramatically scanning each anxious individual, he swung his arm pointing directly at one and exclaimed in his deepest and most authoritative voice befitting the world’s greatest detective: “J ‘ Accuse YOU! Commandant, Arrest ________________ on the charge of Grand Theft and Reckless Abuse of a Potato!”
- It is now your time. You have the facts and Inspector Cretín has made his determination. To whom did Inspector Cretín point and why? Do you agree or have a theory of your own? Who is the thief and how was the crime committed? Match your answers with those of this remarkable man.