Where the Jewels where..

Where the Jewels where..

Where the Jewels Are.

A Prequel to
“An Odyssey Less Taken “ (Tallie)

An Escapade in 3 Acts…



Act 1
The Mustard Seed is planted


A couple is getting ready to leave for an apparently Fancy Dress Affair:

The wife cascades down the stairs swirling her silk dress for to catch her husband’s eye, which she does.

Blimey Bess, did you leave anything in ur Jewelry Casket, he chides with a satisfied smirk.

Casket, Luv? Really? I keep telling you what a morbid term that is, she scolds him , while she smiles radiantly ; fetchingly placing a hand to her husband’s cheek, then straightening the black bow tie of his tux.

Don’t be snide, I know you like it when I dress. Besides it’s not often we get to hob nob with near royalty. Beth said in justification of herself driving to the occasion dressed to the nines.

But Beth, Calling it a casket is an old term, and her husband starts to explain (not for the first time) the origin of the phrase ”jewele casket”
Hush child, Beth simpers, placing a finger to his lips, with a very becoming look in her eyes, save it for the students. She turns away and he slaps her lovingly upon her posterior. She giggles and heads back to the stairs.

The doorbell rings.

Beth stops and turns, looking at the door. Could you get that dear, looks like a postal package. I have to go upstairs to finish my hair, and to bury my casket, you old toad she tosses at him, making no attempt to hide in her voice the with undying affection she has for her husband, the love of her life.

He obediently goes to the door, where a man in uniform can be seen through the window, waiting with a package.

He turns, a lump rising in his throat as he eyeballs his pretty ( to him) wife Bess. The main reason is too catch another look at the pretty party dress swishing along her withdrawing figure ,but he also throws a teasing retort at her retreating back, . besides, casket It what me Mum called it luv…..

Turning away, he goes to open the door.

End Act 1

Act 2
The Trolley Cometh


Up on a hummock a large stone manor sits, dominating the landscape below.

A proper butler opens the Manor’s double doors and a stream of well gowned, ladies pour out. The many jewels they are wearing sparkling like some sort of jewel filled waterfall as they move heading down to where a quite ornate Trolley awaits them.

The whispering rustle of high end satin and the erupting glitter of colourfully flickering tiffany quality jewels, lighting up the dreary early morning as female members of the wedding party descend.

The bride is the last to come out into the early morning, stopping to survey the activity below , ever so a royal highness looking down on her subjects.

It was her idea to have her brides maids be driven out to her parents country estate before the dress rehearsal and have a photo grapher take shots of her party at various locations. Since the Groom and his Groomsmen were not allowed, by custom, to view the gowned bride before the ceremony, they were of course not invited. Nor was anyone else outside herself, the bridal party and the photo grapher. The rehearsal and dinner were to take place later that afternoon, and the bride and her party would be changing at the country estate. Towards that means they had already placed cases aboard the trolley containing their evening clothes and everyday jewelry that they would wear for the evenings festivities..

She preferred to be in control off all aspects of the situation. Needless to say, her wedding planner, waiting at the stone cathedral, had developed a migraine over the whole affair.

After a couple of group shots are arranged in front of the elegant trolley, the party is herded aboard by the tuxedoed trolley driver. He has their schedule to keep. He is helped by his pretty blonde wife, herself dressed shimmering, sparkling, as she expertly moves (herds?) the elegant ladies , escorting them cheerfully to their seats.

And with a lurch of the trolley on the old private road, the entire ultra-wealthy group set off on their pre nuptial adventure.

End Act 2


The connection between acts 1 & 2, for those who haven’t figured it out, will be revealed in act 3.
Please comment if you’re going to stay tuned for the outcome



This would be the 3rd and possibly final installment of the trilogy…..If you are interested in reading the storyline complete you may find it enlightening to visit Acts 1 and 2 (respectively) before proceeding any further.

Please consider leaving a comment behind that you have (read) the acts. It would be deeply appreciated.

Act 3(?)
After the Harvest

The inspector arrives in his rather jaunty sports auto. He emerges with his Detective Sargent, approaching a waiting constable.

The constable’s partner, Archie, is inside with the police matron.

What do we have Constable? The inspector asks quizzically.

Apparently we have a husband and wife teem who own and drive a private rental trolley, that then decides to waylay and rob the entire wedding party they were hired to ferry about.

Way out here, in the middle of nowhere, Constable?

Appears they were going to the Brides summer home to be photographed. The trolley turned down the path to this old deserted manor where they were told there was engine trouble.

And they were robbed, by the driver and his wife you say Constable?

Them, and two others waiting.

4 robbers then,
Who called it in Constable?

Received an anonymous tip

And just what were they robbed of, Constable? The inspector asked, almost wearily.

Stripped of everything down to their bloody knickers, the lot of them. Then handcuffed and left.

Language Mate, the inspector chided his constable, looking at his Sargent, taking this all down?

Detective Sargent nods

Now, he said turning back to the Constable, Just why do you suppose they stripped them of their clothes.

The gowns were worth L3000 pounds each, real emeralds, the brides was worth double that, with real diamonds

So they were robbed for their expensive clothes, then eh Sargent, the inspector leered.

No Sir that was not all the lot were after.

The Bride was wearing diamond jewelry worth L100,000 pounds easy, the rest of the girls were wearing matching emeralds sets that the bride paid L32,000 pounds each.

Each, The inspector arched an eyebrow.

Each of the Bridesmaids, inspector, answered the ridden constable.

That’s a great amount of information constable. Just how did you acquire it.

The bride sir, she won’t stop squawking on about it. answered the Constable

Careful how you talk about your betters, constable, the inspector winked at him.

I’m sure the young lady in question has every right to squawk.

So let me get this straight constable, a bridal party was Shanghaied and robbed of their possessions by their trolley driver, his wife and two other associates. Then someone cordially calls the station to let us in on the joke?

Right sir, no joke though

Then why did they leave their trolley here, for evidence against them?
Asked the Inspector, before turning to his Detective Sargent.

Sergeant. send a man down to the drivers abode, the information should be acquired from the registration from the plates they so handily left.

The Constable cleared his throat, actually my partner Archie already called it in Sir.

The inspector raised an eyebrow, Glad to see someone is on the ball.

The police radio crackles, the constable goes to answer it.

He comes back, standing smartly at attention.

Just received a call, they found the husband and wife tied up in their basement.
Apparently two men posing as a postal worker and driver held them up.

The ones who robbed the bride and her party? Constable?

No sir, apparently the two who brought them here were imposters.
The real uns were held them up at gunpoint, made to strip to their underthings and tied up.
Then Two others, man and woman, took the Trolly to the Manor to “pick up” the Bride and her Bridesmaids.

Has a statement been taken? Yes sir, but there is not much.

Thieves were disguised as postal workers. House was ransacked, safe looted, wife jewel case cleaned out, the usual.
After burgling their manor, the occupants were stripped to their skivvies, trussed up and locked in their basement cannery.

Then a call came in on their telephone, the thieves answered it. After they hung up, the husband heard their phone used to call us, and heard the two thieves leave..

Was anything said by the thieves?

They only overheard the one thing, something one of the postage men said.

Thief posing as one, right constable, don’t want to give anyone a bad rep

Yes sir,
it appears that when the thief – wearing the postman’s costume- answered the phone, he repeated a phrase.

And what would that phrase have been, constable?

Mustard Seed,

Mustard seed? Eh.

Sergeant, the inspector turned to his detective sergeant. That begs the question, why Mustard seed?

The Detective Sergeant mulled it over for a minute. Then offered:
Seed, could be seed money, mustards grow from a small seed into something quite large. This robbery was seed money for something bigger, possibly, sir?

Not bad Sargent, will make an inspector of you yet.

The inspector turns back to the constable, who has had just about enough of his superiors questions.
He is relieved to now hear what the inspector has to say.

Constable, stand pat here while my sergeant and I have a chat with our victims inside,

The inspector turned to his Detective Sergeant :
Let’s get this lot sorted out, and then will we’ll head over and see about the driver and his wife…

The two made their way up towards the decaying deserted manor house.

The Constable, watching them disappear inside, mutters under his breath.

That is an awfully big haul just for seed money. I would be happy with what that lot will get for what they stole. I bet the old man is off target on this one. Thieves probably will be out of the country with the loot and have it pawned in the states by the time he gets done with his questions.

The constable was closer to the truth than he realized…..

Originally the gang planning the heist had meant to carry out the caper then head off to parts unknown with the loot and lay low. During planning the stages of the heist, one of their members infiltrated the group to garner information. Remarks were interestingly overheard by chatting bridesmaids about a lavish affair being staged a fortnight away (only one week after the rehearsal dinner).

From the “seed” planted by that helpful bit of overheard gossip, grew the new job the group was now going to carry out very shortly .
Mustard seed become its code name.

End of Act 3


In addendum

Now we break away from the crime scene to visit an occurrence that took place some two hours prior to the phone call that alerted the police to the unfortunate incident related above.

The scene: Inside a C. Hoare & Co branch, in a posh end of London..

Two ladies, both, opulently dressed in satins and jewels, their thick fur coats have been carefully hung by a smartly dressed lady porter, nearby, had been seated and served. The pair are now alone in a richly furnished private room of the bank. Wine at hand, they are merrily going through a collection of jewelry glistening from an open safe deposit strongbox brought up from the depths of the banks’ vault.

The fashionable, long haired daughter is half-heartedly trying on one of several jewel encrusted Tiaras…… Her stylish, bobbed haired mother is admiring the sparkle of a diamond waterfall style necklace; the pricy jewels’ matching mates, (earrings and bracelets and brooch) are laid out next to her.

The daughter suddenly lest out a squeal of delight as she spy’s a small sparkling ruby and emerald encrusted diamond cocktail ring , which she grabs and slips on her pinky. She admires the raw, rainbow like fireworks as she moves it under the lights.

Mum, can I? it will go ever so nicely with the gown I’m wearing to Polly’s Soiree.

Hey, that was my Great Aunts , her Mother yelps grasping at the ring. Almost looking like Defoe’s Sunday dressed Moll Flanders snatching at the colourful trinket worn by a young miss, awed by the passing parade of royals.

Unlike that distracted young miss, however, the daughter was able to hold the ring high from the reach of Her mother’s fingertips, giggling as she did so.

Now Millicent, her mother lectured, You know we don’t approve of young Lady Pollyanna’s fancy boy, Raul. He would probably manage a way to slip the ring from off your finger.

Oh, MaMa, , answered Millicent, I’ll be ever so careful, and please don’t you harp on poor Raul. He really is quite a dear, and the pearls were simply lost, nothing more. Let me wear the ring, and I’ll wear whatever jewelry you pick out for me the weekend, Sagely bargained Millicent.

Promise? Her mother asks, relenting in to her daughter’s wishes. It’s just that we don’t you making publicity over getting robbed just before your occasion.

Mum, Millicent says soothingly, nothing will happen to me before my Debs Ball, or occasion as you will call it. She bent over and kissed her mother on the forehead, before going back to her admiration of the pretty ring.

But innocently enough, pretty Millicent has no idea of the prophetic canniness her naively made promise to her mother would soon foretell.

To be continued….

Please see:

Album entitled “Tallie”
For the main story of what the mustard seed turned out to grow into…..


The narration above is from a play with its roots Derived from a story based on fact.

Do to the rather extensive connections of the Families involved: an official report was never released to the public.

The case was finally Closed without being resolved to the victims,

Apparently the job was perfectly planned and executed by professionals , probably with inside information from never discovered sources.


Please consider leaving a comment behind that you have (read) the acts. It would be deeply appreciated.

Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives

Posted by A Doll Thief Story Saga on 2016-06-27 15:34:30

Tagged: , Barbie , Barbie doll , story , doll , Blyth , Monster High , peril , mystery , sinister , thief , robbery , burglar , noir , plot , novel , tale

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