“He’s a crook, Jimmy. The most notorious jewel thief in the world. A fantastic, daring fellow, not to be daunted by anything. King Victor was the nickname he was known by in Paris. Paris was the headquarters of his gang. They caught him there and put him away for seven years on a minor charge. They couldn’t prove the more important things against him. He’ll be out soon⁠—or he may be out already.”

“Do you think Count Stylptitch had anything to do with putting him away? Was that why the gang went for him? Out of revenge?”

“I don’t know,” said Anthony. “It doesn’t seem likely on the face of it. King Victor never stole the Crown Jewels of Herzoslovakia as far as I’ve heard. But the whole thing seems rather suggestive, doesn’t it? The death of Stylptitch, the memoirs, and the rumours in the papers⁠—all vague but interesting. And there’s a further rumour to the effect that they’ve found oil in Herzoslovakia. I’ve a feeling in my bones, James, that people are getting ready to be interested in that unimportant little country.”