By Tara Oldfield
Walter Jenkin was a successful jeweller with a store on Glenferrie Road, in bustling 1937 Malvern, an inner-city suburb of Melbourne. His ads promised the best-value watches money could buy and 100 per cent Australian-made silver goods.
‘Business has never been better,’ he boasted. But his success, and the finery he sold, made his shop a target.
The day Mona Hayes and Albert Wilson walked in had, at first, seemed like any other rainy day in Melbourne. Jenkin’s assistant approached the browsing couple as Jenkin looked on, his senses tingling. The couple – a dark haired, blue eyed, 24-year-old beauty, and a fresh-complexioned, brown-eyed 31-year-old showman – were on the hunt for diamond rings.
‘We have lost a ring that belonged to my dear friend Miss Towel, and we want to replace it. We’re putting in for the expense of it,’ the woman, Mona Hayes, explained, charmingly chatting away with the assistant. ‘Can we see a few options between £10 and £25?’
‘Certainly.’
A big sale! Yet, the name ‘Towel’ may not have sat right with the sharp Jenkin as he continued to watch on closely. It sounded made up. And ever since the store safe had been burgled years earlier, he’d grown more suspicious of strange customers – and these two, handsome as they were, were certainly rough around the edges. They looked, and smelled, as if they’d been up on the grog all night.
His assistant, though, didn’t sense anything amiss. Helpful as always, she gathered a selection of rings from the window and placed them on the counter. They were all of varying prices, some much more expensive than the others.
While Hayes remained smooth and beguiling as ever, the man, Albert Wilson, gruffly complained, ‘I cannot see the difference in quality between the(se) two rings.’
The prices were very different indeed.
This is when Jenkin interjected on the sale. No-one was going to try haggling with him! His jewels were of the finest quality. He proposed showing Wilson the rings under his special light, out in the back office. The couple exchanged glances, appearing unusually nervous at this suggestion. But, ultimately, Wilson agreed and followed him back.
The assistant also excused herself as other buyers entered the store, leaving Hayes alone at the counter with the remaining rings. She kept her eye on the back door, then glanced across to the assistant, whose head was turned. She simply couldn’t resist. With both Jenkin and his assistant distracted, Hayes grabbed the rings and ran, making her way to a waiting taxi.
‘Drive me back to the city, quick,’ she told the cabbie.
‘What about the other chap?’
‘Never mind about him.’
The cabbie shrugged and drove away as, back inside, the assistant shouted for the police.
Wilson, in the back room, was trapped. Staff closed the door on him. He had no choice but to wait for police to arrive.
Jenkin was certain the couple was in on it together. They had planned all along to steal those rings, and had a taxi lying in wait for their quick departure…
This is a sneak peek into Edition 34 of Traces. To read the rest of the article, subscribe here.
Image courtesy of iStock.
