Opinion

Lost in the mail

The Great
Pearl Heist

London’s Greatest Thief
and Scotland Yard’s Hunt for the World’s Most Valuable Necklace

by Molly Caldwell Crosby

Berkley

In 1913, a criminal mastermind engineered the theft of the world’s most expensive strand of pearls — a prize worth around $18 million in today’s dollars.

But by modern standards, the most shocking aspect of the crime was not that it happened, but that the pearls were able to be stolen because they were sent by regular mail.

“The Great Pearl Heist” tells the story of criminal mastermind Joseph Grizzard and his gang, and the Sherlock Holmes figure tasked with catching him, elite Scotland Yard detective Alfred Ward.

Grizzard was such a composed and accomplished criminal that when police searched his premises regarding an earlier diamond heist, he welcomed them with a smile despite entertaining guests at the time — a collection of potential buyers for those very diamonds. The police found nothing and left, at which point Grizzard returned to eating his now “tepid” pea soup — and then “pulled a long string of diamonds from the bottom of the bowl.”

The strand of 61 pearls belonged to a dealer named Max Mayer, who would occasionally send it to prospective buyers for inspection.

Grizzard’s main collaborator was a master thief named James Lockett. Lockett had been arrested many times, but as this was before the age of fingerprints, thieves could give different names every time they were nicked and receive short sentences since they were always “first-time offenders.”

After contemplating possible methods of taking the pearls, it was decided that the best course of action would be to take the pearls from the mail.

While the book lays out the cat-and-mouse game between Grizzard and Ward in great detail, reading like an episode of “Law & Order: Special Edwardian Unit,” the most fascinating aspects for modern readers are the antiquated standards and primitive police science of the time.

Incredibly, jewelers regularly sent their most expensive jewels via the mail, as it was the safest route. Sending on foot, or through paid couriers, was seen as too easily susceptible to theft. Valuable mail was therefore sent in packed mailbags. With mailmen transporting up to 300 sacks at a time, it was close to impossible for thieves to determine where valuables might be.

At Grizzard’s instruction, an accomplice named Simon Silverman rented an office on Mayer’s mail route and took notes on the route and habits of the mailman, including what time he arrived and how long his deliveries took. He then befriended the man, whose name was W. E. Neville, and whose hobby, it turned out, was heavy drinking.

At the time, jewelers often did business in an open market, sealing deals with a handshake, and were distinguished by a personalized wax seal they used to seal their packages. Silverman arranged to have several wax seals made up with the initials MM.

Grizzard and Lockett, meanwhile, tailed Mayer, eavesdropping on his business lunches until they were able to learn when the pearls would be placed in the mail to him from a prospective buyer.

The thieves made Neville the mailman an offer he couldn’t refuse — 200 British pounds just to allow them brief access to a certain package and his mailbag one morning. For a drunk who made a few pounds per week, this was a fortune.

With many of the details in place, Grizzard took off to Paris, spending much of his time sitting at his favorite café, reading his favorite French newspaper and ordering coffee, and slipping three cubes of sugar into his pocket with each drink.

When the extremely valuable package was set to arrive at Mayer’s place, Neville delivered it to Silverman instead. Silverman and an accomplice quickly sliced it open, removed the pearls, rewrapped it with the same blue linen paper Mayer was known to use and then sealed it in wax with Mayer’s designated MM seal.

The accomplice took the package, raced up the street, and placed it in Neville’s bag just in time for him to deliver it to Mayer — who found a well-wrapped package filled with nothing but eleven cubes of French sugar and a ripped page from a French newspaper.

The chase that follows between Grizzard and Ward is so intricate and convoluted that at one point, “Ward’s detectives watched Grizzard, Lockett watched the detectives, and plainclothes police watched the gang members watching the detectives watching the thieves.” Grizzard was so tuned in to the many undercover officers spying on him that Ward ultimately threw him off the scent by disguising a detective as a uniformed police officer.

The detective’s pursuit was ultimately fueled by sheer determination. It took awhile, but Ward eventually arrested the entire gang and recovered most of the pearls. Neither rain nor snow nor darkest night . . .