The Treasure Hunt

It was near midnight in Mayfair, heart of London's gilded West End. Rain clouds had driven Sunday window-shoppers home early, not a bobby was in sight, and the drifting squadrons of prostitutes who once crowded Mayfair's shadowy lanes had long since been sent to cover with the enactment of Britain's tough new laws against streetwalking. When a solitary car pulled to a halt in front of the Piccadilly shop of the Goldsmiths' & Silversmiths' Association, the stage was set for the greatest jewel robbery in Britain's history.

As police later reconstructed it, one man got out of the car, cut the padlock on the store's outer wicket gate, then picked the lock on the inner door. That done, three more of the gang got out and went into the store with him, while a fifth accomplice put a new padlock on the gate to allay the suspicions of any passing policemen. Inside, the four men forced a safe and swept up a peck of rings, bracelets, watches and necklaces, worth over $110,000. But the night had just begun: in the safe the crooks also found keys to the Goldsmiths' & Silversmiths' branch store in Burlington Arcade a few blocks away.

Racing to the arcade, the four men scaled a 6-ft. gate and entered the second jewelry store. There they scooped up another $140,000 worth and found the keys to yet another Goldsmiths' & Silversmiths' store. Next stop: Regent Street, branch No. 3, and the biggest haul of all--jewelry worth $420,000 and keys to the associate jewelry firm of Arthur H. Drew Ltd. in Victoria Street.

By the time the gang reached Victoria, they apparently had decided not to press their leapfrog luck too far. Leaving a fortune behind, they took only $28,000 worth of jewelry, and for the fourth and last time locked their doors behind them. Their record take: goods worth $700,000, chosen so judiciously for size and value that the whole caboodle would fit in a suitcase.

Only next morning when store managers opened up for the day were the raids discovered. Unhappily, Scotland Yardmen, after a week of fruitless investigation, admitted they could only hope for a "snout" --someone who might be tempted into talking by an insurance company reward of $28,000. They admitted, too, to a touch of regret over the new, vice-free state of London's streets. "Those girls always helped us," confided one Yardman. "They were our eyes and ears when we weren't around. This haul couldn't have been made in the bad old days."

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