The King of Diamonds: The Search for the Elusive Texas Jewel Thief
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Last update: 08-28-2024
About this item
As a string of high-profile jewel thefts went unsolved during the Swinging Sixties, the press dubbed the elusive thief the King of Diamonds. Like Cary Grant in To Catch a Thief, the King was so bold that he tip-toed into the homes of millionaires while they were home, hiding in their closets and daring to smoke while they were sleeping.
Rena Pederson, then a young reporter with UPI, started following the elusive thief while she managed the night desk. With gymnastic skill, he climbed trees and crawled across rooftops to take jewels from heiresses, oil kings, corporate CEOs—some of the richest people of their time. Scotland Yard and Interpol were on the look-out, but the thief was never caught nor the jewels recovered.
To follow the tracks of the thief, Rena has interviewed more than two hundred people, from cops to strippers. She went to pawn shops, Las Vegas casinos, and a Mafia hangout—and discovered that beneath the glittering façade of Dallas debutante parties was a world of sex trafficking, illegal gambling, and political graft. When one of the leading suspects was found dead in highly unusual circumstances, the story darkened. High society crashed head-first into Mickey Spillane.
The odd psychological aspects of the The King of Diamonds give us a different kind of crime story. Detectives were stumped: Why did the thief break into houses when his targets were inside, increasing the risk of being captured? As one socialite put it, “It was a very peculiar business.”
Top reviews from the United States
The author ties this together with the never-caught, discriminating jewel thief who preyed on high-society, as well as the distraught detectives who were on the case.
The thief didn’t take cash and also skipped inferior diamonds. He crept into people’s bedrooms as they slept. He wasn’t exposed by family dogs and avoided traps set by the police and FBI.
Peterson uses the major detectives in the case to lead readers through the thefts, deftly describes the families involved, the society events where ladies wore their finest jewelry, with some to be lost later while they slept.
As the cases never were solved, Peterson leads readers where police officially didn't, by book’s end.
The author distills a massive amount of information to give the essence of people, place and time. This may be the best researched, finest distilled, unnecessary-clutter-free books I’ve read. Compelling.
One of those books that a person hates to see end!
While the astoundingly wealthy oil barons and their wives are caught up in the social whirl, the King is slipping into their mansions, sliding into their closets and dressers and drawers to select only their finest pieces of jewelry, then disappearing into the night. Is he one of their own? Is he even a "he"? At least one woman appears on the list of suspects.
Whoever it was, and no matter how hard they worked, the Dallas police were never able to build a case against any of their suspects. Were there political forces blocking their investigation into the burglaries?
Pederson tracks down cops and socialites who still remember the crazy days of the 1960s, when Dallas was at its glitziest and the King ruled the night. The characters and escapades she reveals make J. R. Ewing look like a choirboy. I enjoyed this book hugely, and recommend it to anyone who likes true crime, or wants a peek at Dallas in the Bad Old Days.
Eventually Pederson compiles a profile outlining what characteristics a suspect needed to fit. Among them was the curious item “latent homosexual”. He or she (there was at least one woman possibility) would most likely be among the elite he was harassing, and he might feel some sort of resentment. So, it wasn’t just the jewels he was after. He wanted to prove how clever he was.
Two of her main sources were the detectives in charge of the case: Lt. Paul McCaghren and Capt. Walter Fannin. McCaghren insisted they knew who it was, but that they were prevented from following through by the Chief of Police. So, it had to be somebody pretty high on the social scale with serious political connections.
Surprisingly, some of the victims actually talked to the burglar. One woman woke up with him in her bedroom, watching him rifle through her jewels. She begged him not to take her diamond earrings. He said, “Hush, you’re making me nervous.” One would expect him to say something like, “Shut up or I’ll make your life miserable” or something to that effect.
Pederson does bios on practical everybody she could think of, including some of the wealthy victims willing to talk to her. McCaghren is one of them, of course and a number of suspects. She finally centers on one of them who was often an escort for debutantes and had attended various soirees which may have given him some insight into where these women kept their jewels. The thief always knew where to look.
Turns out there were lots of diamond thieves in nineteen sixty Dallas, including the mafia, but the King of Diamonds will remind you of the Cary Grant burglar in TO CATCH A THIEF. He had a style all his own. None of them were as brazen as he was. He would go into a woman’s bedroom and steal the jewels from her dresser, only feet away from the sleeping victim.