Part 52

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.

THE CHISELERS