Part 19

One of the most frequent visitors to Kronberg Castle was slender, handsome Air Force Colonel Jack Durant, who was Kathleen Nash’s boy friend and constant companion. Colonel Durant had been an attorney in the U.S. government’s Interior Department before he went into the Air Force at the outbreak of the war. He was attached to the Adjutant General’s office and therefore was not unaware of the rules governing the conduct of the armed forces.

Captain Nash invited Colonel Durant and her friend, Major David Watson, to her quarters. She showed them the treasure which had been dug from the coal room in the basement of the castle. And then it was they began to talk of stealing the Hesse jewels.

These three sat behind the closed and locked door of Captain Nash’s quarters and pried the jewels from their settings. They decided it would be much easier to smuggle the loose jewels into the United States rather than leave them in their settings.

Why they thought they could escape undetected with one of the great treasures of Europe remains a mystery. It was a monstrous game of “losers weepers, finders keepers.” In their greed they began to look upon the Hesse jewels as legitimate loot. Because they were on the winning team in the war, they reasoned they were entitled to share in the spoils. If their share happened to be a fortune in gems, then that was merely their good luck.

Colonel Durant casually made inquiries among his fellow officers about the customs procedures in the United States and whether or not the inspectors of military personnel were very thorough in going through luggage.

One officer who had returned from a recent trip home said, “There’s no sweat. The inspectors clear you as fast as they can. They didn’t even look into my baggage. I guess they figure a guy who has been fighting a war should not be delayed in getting home.”

Durant persuaded a former secretary to carry home for him several pieces of the jewelry. She innocently believed they were nothing more valuable than costume jewelry which he had picked up in Europe.

Captain Nash turned over her share of the loot to Major Watson, who packed it in an ordinary wooden box and then mailed it to her in care of her sister, Mrs. Eileen Lonergan, in Hudson, Wisconsin. The box arrived in New York along with several thousands of other shipments from Europe. A Customs examiner accepted the statement on the box that it contained only personal belongings and nothing of dutiable value. And so the box went on its way to the house in Wisconsin.

Colonel Durant arrived at Westover Field by plane on March 12, 1946, aboard ATC Flight 9076, which had originated in Paris. He wrote on his customs declaration that he carried one watch worth $60, perfume worth $83, a $2.50 purse, and two cigarette lighters worth $17. He stated he had no other articles on which he should pay duty.

No one questioned the colonel’s declaration and within a short time he was on his way to Washington, D. C., to visit his brother, James E. Durant, who lived in Falls Church, Virginia.

Colonel Durant showed his brother a good many of the unset stones and articles which he had brought back from overseas, and his brother helped him remove several diamonds from two tubes of shaving cream. Durant explained that while travelling to Italy a German had sold him more than one hundred diamonds for 3,000 German marks.

Durant gave one of the diamonds to a Washington, D. C., automobile dealer--a diamond appraised at $500--as part payment for a Hudson automobile. Another automobile dealer in Falls Church, Virginia, purchased two of the diamonds for $400, and Durant--using the assumed name of J. W. Gable--disposed of three of the diamonds to a jewelry firm in Washington for $357. Then he drove to Chicago to meet Kathleen Nash.

A few days after arriving in Chicago, Colonel Durant put in a call for his friend, Dr. Reuben Mark, at the Embassy Hotel. Dr. Mark was a dentist who had struck up a friendship with Durant a few years earlier in Washington, D. C. As Dr. Mark related the story of their meeting later:

“It was around April of this year. One evening he called and he said, ‘Ruby, this is Jack.’ I said, ‘When did you get in?’ He said, ‘Just today.’ I asked him how long he was going to be in town and he said he did not know. He was on thirty days leave and he had already spent a few days.

“Then he asked when we would get together. That was on Saturday night. He said something about a girl friend of his coming in from the coast. He said it was a girl that had been overseas with him and she was a divorcee. He said she was pretty and had been married to a wealthy man in Arizona and had just joined the WACs to get away.

“We arranged to meet in a day or so. A couple of days later we met after office hours at Isbell’s restaurant on Diversey. That was the night I first met his girl. Katy, as I began to call her, was a nice girl. Nothing unusual.

“It was there that Jack asked me, ‘Ruby, do you know any jewelers?’ I said, ‘Sure, I know some jewelers.’ Just about that time he pulled out a tissue paper. He opened it up and I saw three stones. I asked, ‘Where did you get them?’ He said he picked them up overseas in Frankfurt.

“At that time nothing occurred to me about anything being wrong. I know lots of boys who brought things from overseas and I felt, well, so what, he was overseas. I said, ‘Yes, I know some jewelers.’ And he said he would like to call them. I told him I would call the following day.

“I called a Mr. Horwitz, whom I had known for some time, and I asked if he was interested in buying some diamonds. He said yes....”

Dr. Mark accompanied Durant to the jeweler’s place of business and introduced him. Durant took a small cloth sack from his pocket and when he upended it, a shower of diamonds cascaded onto the desk. There were 102 stones in the lot.

Horwitz looked at the stones under a magnifying glass, examining each of them carefully. Finally he said, “These are fine stones, Colonel. We don’t see diamonds like these very often. They’re beautifully cut.”

Durant explained he had been able to get them at a bargain price from a German badly in need of cash. “How much do you figure they are worth?” he asked.

“I’ll pay you $125 a carat,” Horwitz said. “It’s a fair price.”

“That’s okay,” Durant said. “But there’s just one thing. The deal can’t be made in my name. I’m in the Army and I’m not supposed to transact any outside business. It will have to be a cash transaction.”

Horwitz shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “We only make purchases by check. In buying outside the regular channels I would have to call the police to make certain there is no violation of regulations.”

“That’s all right,” Durant said quickly. “Go ahead and call.”

Horwitz made a telephone call and then said, “The police say there’s nothing wrong with making a purchase from an Army man who has returned from overseas--provided the customs duty has been paid. Has the duty been paid on these stones?”

“I mailed them into the country,” Durant said. “All the boys were mailing stuff back and I did too.” Then Durant added, “But, look, I’m not here for business particularly. I’m going to take a trip to Mexico. If it’s only a question of duty, I’ll stop off someplace and take care of the duty part of it and I’ll see you when I get back.”

Horwitz then said to Mark, “Why don’t we make out the check in your name, Doctor? You can cash it and give the money to the colonel.”

Mark hesitated. “I suppose the check could be made out to me on a tentative basis,” he said. “But I’ll have to call my auditors and see that I don’t get fouled up with them.”

Horwitz had his secretary draw a check for the purchase of the diamonds. When Durant and the doctor had left his office, he called his lawyer. He explained the situation and asked his advice.

“There’s nothing wrong about buying diamonds from a member of the armed forces,” the lawyer said, “but you’d better be certain the diamonds were declared and duty paid on them when they were brought into the country. If they were not declared, it is not a proper transaction and I’d advise you to stop payment on the check.”

Horwitz immediately called his bank and stopped payment on the check. The following morning he called Dr. Mark and advised him of what he had done on the advice of his attorney. “I can’t go through with the transaction,” he said, “unless the colonel will produce a customs receipt showing the diamonds were declared and the duty was satisfied.”

Mark and Durant returned to Horwitz’s place of business to retrieve the diamonds and to hand back the check.

Horwitz suggested, “Why don’t you go to see Mr. Meiners at the customs house? He’s assistant collector of customs and he could clear this thing up for you. I’d even be willing to pay half of the duty.”

Durant mumbled something about having to hurry to the airport to make a flight. He said he would be back in Chicago in about ten days and he certainly would go and see Mr. Meiners at the first opportunity.

After the collapse of this deal, Durant and Captain Nash left Chicago by automobile for a vacation in the Southwest and Mexico. But even as they were leaving Chicago, Federal agents were on their trail.

The theft of the gems had been discovered by the Countess Margarethe in Germany. She had gone to the basement to check on the safety of the jewels. She had found the hole in the basement floor. The conspirators had not even refilled the hole or re-covered it with concrete. The theft was reported to Army authorities and the matter was turned over to the Army’s criminal investigation division.

The Army’s agents began questioning everyone who had been employed in any capacity at Kronberg Castle. Finally they came to the old janitor who told them of digging up the boxes in the basement coal room. He didn’t know what was in the boxes. He only knew they had been taken to Captain Nash’s quarters. He had never heard any mention of them again.

Customs agents were called in to help with the case. They traced Captain Nash’s movements from the time of her arrival in New York until she left Chicago accompanied by Colonel Durant. They learned of Durant’s visit with Dr. Mark to the jeweler, Horwitz, and the collapse of the diamond deal--because the customs duties had not been paid on the gems. But no one knew the destination of the couple when they left Chicago.

Through calls to friends and relatives, Dr. Mark located Durant in Texas--and advised him he was wanted by the Customs people for questioning. On April 19, 1946, Durant appeared at the office of the Supervising Customs Agent in Chicago with the air of an innocent man who was shocked that anyone should question his integrity.

“You did bring diamonds into the country without declaring them and without paying duty on them, didn’t you, Colonel?” an agent asked.

“Yes,” Durant said, “but I was doing only what everybody else in the armed services was doing. I didn’t know a declaration was required.”

“Where did you get the diamonds?”

“I bought them from a German civilian. I gave him my Elgin wrist watch and 3,000 German marks.”

The agent said, “How did you get them into the country?”

“I put them in a cigar box and mailed the box to myself in care of my brother in Falls Church,” Durant replied.

“Where are the diamonds now?”

Durant reached into his pocket and pulled out the sack of diamonds. “There they are,” he said, tossing the sack onto the desk. “That’s all of them.”

“We’re going to have to hold these diamonds until our investigation is completed, Colonel,” an agent said. “But of course you have the right under law to petition for a return of the diamonds and for remission or mitigation of any penalties.”

“I certainly do want to petition for their return,” Durant said angrily.

He was handed a blank petition. And he wrote: “I am the sole owner of said diamonds.... At the time I mailed these diamonds into the United States I assumed that it was not necessary for me to declare them to any governmental agency.... At no time did I intend to import into the United States and thereafter make any disposition of said diamonds in violation of any statute of the United States.... Therefore, I petition for (their return)....”

Immediately after this meeting with Customs agents, Durant and Captain Nash drove from Chicago to Washington, D. C. Durant hurried to the home of his brother in Falls Church. After nightfall, the brothers drove to a spot on a country road halfway between Lee Highway and Route 50.

They parked the car and walked into a woods to a large oak tree. At the base of the tree, Durant buried an ink bottle which contained fifty small diamonds and two large emerald-cut diamonds--together with a roll of gold wire which weighed 8 ounces.

“For God’s sake, don’t forget where we buried this stuff,” Durant said to his brother. And then the two returned to the car and headed back to Falls Church. A few days later, Colonel Durant began his terminal leave prior to being mustered out of the armed services.

Less than a month later, on May 18, Colonel Durant drove into Washington accompanied by Kathleen Nash. They went to a hotel and that night Durant again visited his brother James in Falls Church. Again the brothers drove to the woods on Lee Highway, where they walked to the big oak tree. Durant took a large jar from a leather handbag and buried it at the base of the tree. The jar contained loose amethysts and white envelopes which Durant told his brother contained loose diamonds.

As they drove from the woods, Durant said, “Don’t forget where we buried the jars. There’s enough in them to set us up for life. If anything happens, I want you to have what’s there.” The next day, Durant and Captain Nash left Washington and headed for Chicago.

Now the net was tightening and Durant sensed it. He had heard the disturbing news in Washington that his terminal leave might be cancelled--and this could mean only one thing: the Army didn’t want to lose its hold on him. Then he and Kathleen learned that she, too, might have difficulty in getting out of the Army.

Two weeks after burying the large jar in the woods, Durant telephoned his brother from Chicago.

“Listen, Jim,” he said. “Go to the big tree and get the large glass jar. Bring it to me in Chicago. It’s urgent.”

James Durant went to the woods and searched for the tree. But this night they all looked alike. He called his brother. “I can’t find it,” he said. “I can’t even find the tree.”

Jack Durant cursed softly. “I’ve got to have that jar,” he said. “I’ll have to get it myself.”

Durant caught a late plane from Chicago, arriving at the Washington International Airport at 4 A.M. He took a taxi to his brother’s home, awakened him, and they drove to the woods, where the colonel walked unerringly to the tree and unearthed the jar. Then he returned to the airport and bought a ticket for the 8 A.M. flight to Chicago. But before he left, he gave his brother two small packages containing $28,000 in cash--with instructions to place the money in a sealed jar and bury it at a place he wouldn’t forget. The brother buried the money that same afternoon.

During this frantic activity, the War Department cancelled the unexpired part of the colonel’s terminal leave and ordered him back on active duty. Similar orders went forth for Kathleen Nash.

It was after they received these orders that Colonel Durant and Captain Nash were married. Some cynics suggested later that the colonel married her because once the marriage vows were said, she could not be made to testify against him. But there was nothing in the record to indicate that the two were not in love and had not planned marriage all along.

Early in June, Army and Customs agents began questioning the couple in Chicago. For several days Durant maintained a stubborn silence, but finally he broke. He told of the gems and the money hidden near Falls Church--and he took full responsibility, clearing his brother of any complicity.

Agents found the hiding place in the woods. They dug up the money and the gems--but these were only a part of the treasure taken from Kronberg Castle. Durant was pressed to tell what had happened to the other gems.

“The situation is complicated,” he parried. “I might be able to get the stuff back if you will let me make some telephone calls--in private.”

Durant was permitted to make the calls. After each call he made excuses and talked vaguely of “complications.” He refused to disclose with whom he had talked.

On Friday, June 7, the agents permitted Durant to see his bride alone. What they discussed no one except themselves ever knew. When Durant came from this meeting he told the agents, “I’m sorry. I haven’t been trying to get the jewels. I’ve been stalling for time. But now I’ll try to get them for you.”

“Where are the jewels,” he was asked.

“They are in the hands of a fence. I think I can get them--but it will take some more telephoning. This time I’m not fooling.” He continued to insist that the calls had to be unmonitored.

Durant was permitted to make telephone calls from a public pay station--and to wait for a return call. The return call came within a few minutes, and when he had hung up the receiver, Durant said, “Everything looks all right. I think we can get the stuff this evening.”

That evening the colonel’s mysterious contact called for him at the pay station. This time Durant said, “We can get the jewels any time we wish. They’re at the Illinois Railroad Station.”

Two agents accompanied Durant to the station. He walked to an electric wall fixture near the luggage lockers, reached up, and removed a key from the fixture. He opened a nearby locker and removed a package which he handed over to the agents. The package contained a large number of emeralds, sapphires, pearls, rubies and other stones.

Durant counted the gems carefully and then exclaimed, “Some of the stuff is missing. Let me make another telephone call.” Again he called his contact and this time he reported, “We can’t get the stuff until Monday.”

On the following Monday, June 10, Durant again called his unknown contact. This time he told agents the remainder of the jewels were checked at the North Western Railroad and the claim check was hidden in a telephone booth across from the parcel room.

When Durant and the agents reached the station, Durant searched the telephone booths without finding a claim check. “It doesn’t matter,” Durant said. “I got the number of the check in case anything should go wrong. It’s number 110.”

But there was no parcel numbered 110 at the North Western Station. Durant hurried to a phone booth and placed another call to his contact man. When he completed the call, he said, “I misunderstood the instructions. We should have gone to the LaSalle Street Station.”

At the LaSalle Street Station, Durant went to the sixth telephone booth and took from behind the instrument panel a slip of paper. He read it and handed it over to the agents. On the paper was a handwritten note which said: “Too bad. My hat knocked your ticket off. Guess I have a right to keep the baggage.”

An inquiry at the check room disclosed that a parcel had been left there the day before under the number 110--but it had been removed that morning by a man who had presented the proper claim check.

“I don’t remember what the guy looked like,” the attendant said. “I didn’t pay any attention. All I know is the guy had the right check and I gave him the package.”

At this point, Durant refused any further cooperation. He insisted that his mysterious contact had nothing to do with the missing jewels--and he refused to disclose the name of the contact or to make any further effort to locate the jewels.

The investigators had better luck with Kathleen Nash Durant. She admitted to officers the agreement in Germany between herself, Colonel Durant and Major Watson. She told of removing the numerous stones from their settings and sending a large number of them to her sister’s home in Wisconsin, concealed in boxes. Her sister was instructed not to release the boxes to anyone unless she heard or read the code word “Cemetery.” She turned over to Army officers the following note:

June 3, 1946

To Eileen, Jack, or David,

I have confessed to having the box of jewels, Bibles and fan that I hid in the attic. Will you please give same to officer presenting you this note, Major John D. Salb, our code “cemetery”--goes--sorry to cause you so much grief and I don’t deserve you to worry over me anymore.

Love, _Vonie_ (_Kathleen B. Durant_)

When agents flew to Hudson, Wisconsin, and presented the note to Mrs. Lonergan, she readily turned over the boxes hidden in the attic.

Kathleen Nash Durant and her husband were sentenced by a military court martial to fifteen years in prison. Major Watson was sentenced to three years for his smaller role in the conspiracy.

Most all the jewels of the Hesse treasury found in old Kronberg Castle were returned to their rightful owners. But some of the priceless pieces still are missing. The settings--many of them fashioned by Europe’s greatest artisans--were lost forever. They had been cut to pieces and melted into gold wire.

16

THE CHISELERS

Chiselers are constantly seeking ways to avoid paying customs duties. And the female of the species is just as clever and persistent as the male--or, as is more often the case, just as dumb. In the early 1930s, the chiselers found it extremely profitable to smuggle watch movements into the United States from Switzerland. Smuggling reached such proportions that it helped to virtually destroy the American watch industry. The situation became so grave that the Federal government appealed to the Swiss government to cooperate in a program to control the illegal traffic in watch parts. An agreement finally was reached on a treaty whereby the Swiss devised a system of numbering the watch parts and assigning code numbers to importers as a means of discouraging illegal imports.

The treaty helped to wipe out much of the commercial smuggling of watch parts. Despite these efforts the traffic continued through the years to be a profitable venture for smuggling gangs who often persuaded housewives, businessmen, and tourists to act as carriers.