The coughing stopped.

Jimmie Dale waited a moment, still listening--then his flashlight bored into the interior of the safe.
"The cash box, probably," quoted Jimmie Dale, beneath his breath--and picked it up from where it lay in the bottom compartment of the safe.
The lock snipped under the insistent probe of a delicate little blued-steel instrument, and Jimmie Dale lifted the cover.

There was a package of papers and documents on top, held together with elastic bands.

Jimmie Dale spent a moment or two examining these, then his fingers dived down underneath, and the next minute, under the flashlight, the morocco leather case open, the diamond necklace was sparkling and flashing on its white satin bed.
"A tempting little thing, isn't it ?" said Jimmie Dale gently.

"It was really thoughtful of you, Markel, to buy that this afternoon!" Jimmie Dale replaced the necklace in the cash box, set the cash box on the floor, closed the inner door of the safe, and swung the outer door a little inward--but left it flauntingly ajar.