Chan regarded him with sleepy eyes. “I have so little evidence,” he sighed. “Languishing in such a state, how gladly I hear you talk. Continue, please, to dispense logic and eloquence, those twin blossoms of speech. I now bring up the name of Huntley Van Horn.”
Tarneverro regarded him keenly. “Have you anything on Van Horn?”
“I regret to note that he has no alibi. Also, he was at proper place at proper time to do the deed.” Chan paused, and decided he would keep some matters to himself. “Aside from that, I have nothing of importance. Deign to state your opinion of the man.”
“Well,” said Tarneverro, “I haven’t thought much about Van Horn. He’s an odd, rather bitter sort of chap - a notorious bachelor - the despair of all the women. No breath of scandal has ever touched him. I have always admired the fellow, though heaven knows he has never been any too friendly to me. He’s an intelligent chap, with excellent taste - a bit conceited, perhaps, but no man could receive the adulation he does, and escape that.” He considered a moment. “No, Inspector,” he added with sudden decision, “in spite of the fact that his opportunities were excellent, as you point out, I can not see Huntley Van Horn as our quarry in this affair.”
Charlie rose. “Thank you for this little conversation.” He glanced at his watch. “Now I must haste to home of Shelah Fane. You will accompany me?”
“I’m sorry,” Tarneverro replied, “but I am not at liberty to do so just at present. You’ll let me know of any new developments, won’t you? It isn’t mere curiosity on my part. If we are to work together I must, of course, know what you are doing.”
“We will encounter from time to time,” Chan assured him. They walked to the hotel door.
The head bell-man said something to Tarneverro in Cantonese, and the fortune-teller regarded him with a blank uncomprehending look. “What does he say?” he inquired of Charlie.
“He makes most respectful inquiry after your health this splendid morning,” Chan translated.
“Oh, I’m fine, Sam,” Tarneverro smiled. There was a puzzled expression on Sam’s broad face. “So long, Inspector,” the fortune-teller continued. “Ring me up if you strike anything new. I’ll be hunting about myself - anything I can do - well, I’m with you to the finish, as I told you.”
“You are so extremely kind,” bowed Chan, and returned to his car.
The front lawn of Shelah Fane’s house, when Charlie arrived there, lay peaceful and serene in the shade of its ancient banyan tree. Jessop answered the door, perfect in manner and attire, as always.
“How are you, Constable?” he said. “The morning is rather on the gorgeous side, is it not?”
“Presume so,” agreed Chan. “It is matter we do not notice here. All mornings much the same.”
“Which must, if I may say so, sir, grow a trifle monotonous in time.” The butler followed Chan into the living-room. “Now in England, Constable, drawing back the curtains of a morning is something of a sporting proposition.”
Charlie stood looking about the great room, where so much had happened the night before. It was calm, quiet and sunny now.
“Miss Julie and Mr. Bradshaw are in the neighborhood of the beach, sir,” Jessop remarked. “One of your officers - a Mr. Hettick, I believe - is busily engaged in the pavilion.”
“Ah, yes - Hettick is our fingerprint expert,” Charlie explained. “I will go outside at once.” On the lawn he encountered the two young people, who greeted him warmly. “So sorry to develop into pest,” he said to Julie. “But path of duty is often rocky one.”
“Why, you could never be that,” she smiled. “We’ve been expecting you.”
He glanced at her, so fresh and lovely, her blue eyes wide and innocent. He thought of the emerald ring.
“Well, how did you like my story in the paper this morning?” Bradshaw wanted to know.
“My perusal was of a necessity hurried,” Chan replied. “Imagine it covered the ground.”
“Is that the best you can say for it?” the boy complained.
Charlie shrugged. “Always think twice before you scatter tributes,” he answered. “If no one had praised the donkey’s song, he would not still be singing.” He grinned. “The comparison is, of course, unhappy one. I take it you enjoy a pleasant morning?”
“Oh, I just ran out to help Julie,” the boy told him. “I’ve been acting as a shock-absorber between her and the reporters. The fellows on the evening paper weren’t very polite. They seem a bit miffed the story didn’t break right for them.”
“A natural feeling,” Chan replied.
“What are you going to do now?” asked Bradshaw.
“Propose to look about in bright light of day,” Charlie answered.
“I’ll help you,” Bradshaw said. “Julie you just sit down and relax. Close your eyes and try not to think. Nobody ever has at Waikiki and you can’t tell - it might be dangerous.”
The girl smiled at him and dropped on to a beach chair.
“Want to keep the poor kid cheered up,” Bradshaw explained, as he and Chan walked toward the pavilion. “This has been a pretty tough shock for her. But in time I think I can convince her that all her troubles are over. That is - if she’ll marry me.”
“You possess excellent opinion of yourself,” Charlie smiled.
“Why shouldn’t I? I know myself so well.”
As they reached the pavilion, Hettick came out. He had been brought over from the mainland at the time of the reorganization to strengthen the force, and he had never been very cordial to Charlie, whom he had replaced in the role of fingerprint expert.
“Good morning, Mr. Hettick,” Chan said politely. “Have you had successful time of it?”
“Not very,” the man replied. “Plenty of prints, but mostly those of the murdered woman. All the others can be accounted for, I guess. Come inside, and I’ll show you -“
“One little moment,” interrupted Charlie. “First I take careless stroll about outside of place.”
Followed by Bradshaw, he made his way through some bushes at the side of the cottage, and came out on the public beach that bounded the grounds on the west. Beneath the single pavilion window which opened on that beach - the one under which Smith had stood the previous night - he paused.
A great many footprints were there now, and those of the beachcomber barely distinguishable. Charlie stooped down and carefully sifted the sand. With a little cry of satisfaction, he stood erect again.
“Important discovery,” he announced.
Bradshaw came nearer. He saw in Charlie’s palm the remains of a small cigar, the size of a cigarette.
“Trampled into the sand,” Charlie added. “I would never have expected to find this here.”
“Why - I know only one man who smokes these,” the boy cried. “I saw him - last night -“
“You are quite correct,” Chan beamed. “One man, and who would believe he could act so careless? I am consumed with wonder. When did Mr. Alan Jaynes stand outside this window - and why?”
Chapter XV
“TWO JUICES OF THE ORANGE”
Charlie took an empty envelope from his pocket and carefully placed his latest discovery inside it. He and the boy again penetrated the bushes and entered the pavilion. Hettick was sitting idly by the dressing-table, with the paraphernalia of his calling spread out before him.
Dropping down on a wicker chair, Chan glanced around the room where, only the night before, he had encountered tragedy. The detective’s face was placid and serene; he might have been awaiting the luncheon bell untroubled by any problem. Through an enormous plate-glass window he watched a liner from the coast move slowly into port.
“You have enjoyed no luck here, Mr. Hettick?” he inquired.
“Not much,” replied Hettick. “The things on the table are covered with prints - all those of the murdered woman herself. I got her record at the mortuary this morning. By the way, the coroner asked me to tell you he has postponed the inquest until tomorrow. He expects you to hav
e something by then.”
Chan shrugged. “Thank him for the compliment. Also inform him I will exchange places with him at any moment.” His gaze returned to the room; the woodwork, he noted, had recently been painted white. Suddenly he rose and stepped to the small window opening on the beach. “You have not tested this sill, I believe,” he remarked.
“No - as a matter of fact, I haven’t,” Hettick answered. “I meant to, but it slipped my mind.”
Chan grinned. “Mind gets so slippery in warm climate. May I humbly suggest you do so now?”
Hettick came over and covered the sill with his lamp black. With practiced hand he applied the camel’s-hair brush.
Charlie and the boy crowded close. “Ah!” cried Chan. On the smooth white surface of the sill were the marks of some one’s fingers and thumb.
“These were not made by Shelah Fane?” Charlie inquired.
“No,” answered Hettick. “Those were left by a man’s hand.”
Chan stood, deep in thought. “Recent, too. We achieve some progress now. A man’s hand. A man opened that screen, climbed up on sill. Why? To enter room, of course. When? Last night, when murder was in atmosphere. Yes, we move, we advance.” He paused. “What man?” In his coat pocket, his fingers touched the envelope containing the cigar stub. He turned with sudden decision. “One thing is certain. I must without delay obtain thumb prints of Alan Jaynes.” Smiling at Jimmy Bradshaw he added: “Police have fine clue and promise early arrest. But if you publish one word of this, I recall matter of your laundry and put you in jail at once.”
“I won’t use it, Charlie,” promised the boy. “What are you going to do now?”
“I propose to leave you with nobody for company - except Miss Julie. And who is she?”
“Wait a minute, and I’ll tell you. She’s the most -“
“Later,” cut in Chan. “Much later. Mr. Hettick, I request that you remain here until my return. Your keen eye will be required. I am off for session at Grand Hotel.”
He left the pavilion, and the boy followed. As Charlie passed out of sight around the corner of the house, Bradshaw went over to where Julie sat. He dropped down beside her.
“Has that funny policeman gone?” she asked eagerly.
“For a few minutes. He’ll be back before he’s missed.” Looking up at her, the boy thought he saw an expression of fear cross her delicate face. He wondered. “Charlie has just made an important discovery outside the pavilion window,” he added.
“W-what?” she inquired.
“I don’t believe he’d like to have me tell you,” Bradshaw answered. “Not just yet, at any rate. But - what about this Alan Jaynes? You don’t know him very well, do you?”
“Scarcely at all,” the girl replied. “I never saw him until yesterday morning. Shelah met him in Tahiti - I believe she was very fond of him. But Shelah was fond of - so many people. She was even - fond of me.” Without warning Julie turned away her head and burst into tears.
Bradshaw got up and laid a hand on her heaving shoulder. “Now - now,” he said uncomfortably. “You mustn’t do that. You’re ruining all my press stuff. Waikiki, the abode of peace, the crescent beach where happiness rules supreme. Suppose one of these tourists who took me at my word should see you.”
“I - I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m not happy; I can’t be.”
“No, of course you can’t - not at this moment, I mean. But why not look ahead to all the happiness that’s coming, and draw a little advance on that?”
“I’ll - I’ll never be happy again,” she told him.
“Nonsense. I’m going to make the world as glamorous for you as I’ve made this town in the Tourist Bureau ads. When we’re married -“
She pushed him away. “We’ll never be married. Oh, it’s terrible. I’m horrid, really - and you don’t suspect. You’ll hate me - when you know.”
“Do tell! Look at me.” He leaned over and kissed her.
“You mustn’t,” she cried.
“I’ve got to,” he smiled. “It’s my duty. I’ve advertised this place for its romance, and romance there must be if I have to attend to it myself. Now listen to me - inside a week or less all this will be over, and you can begin to forget. Charlie Chan is going to solve the puzzle at any minute -“
“Oh - do you think so?”
“He’s sure to. You can’t keep anything from Charlie.”
“I wonder,” said the girl.
“I know,” Bradshaw replied firmly.
Scarcely sharing Bradshaw’s confidence, Chan was at that moment entering the lobby of the Grand Hotel. He waved a hand toward the bell-man, and went at once to the desk.
“I arrive again,” he remarked to the clerk. “For a nonpaying guest, I am plenty much in evidence around this place. Will you give me number of room occupied by Mr. Alan Jaynes, if you will be so good?”
The clerk smilingly gave it to him, and pointed out the house telephones at the right of the desk. Charlie was relieved to hear the Britisher’s answering voice. He politely requested a moment’s conversation, and Jaynes replied that he would come down immediately.
Charlie walked with unaccustomed speed to the lounge. A small Filipino bell-boy was there alone, and the detective summoned him.
“I wish to be served with two of your delicious orange-juice drinks,” he announced.
“Yes, sir,” replied the boy.
“I will also accompany you while you secure same.” The boy appeared taken back, but it was not his role to argue. From out of the jungle he had come to learn that the guest is always right.
Charlie followed his small guide to the serving pantry, where they encountered a man in a white apron.
“Inspector Chan, of the Honolulu police,” Charlie explained briefly. “I have just engaged to purchase two juices of the orange. Will you hand me the glasses in which you propose to place same, please?”
The servant was too weary to be surprised. The climate, as he often explained to his wife, had got him. He produced the glasses and Charlie, removing an immaculate handkerchief from his pocket, began to polish them briskly.
“This action, I hasten to say, involves no criticism of you,” he remarked. “But I am reading lately about germs.” He grinned. “A very dangerous form of animal life.” It could be noted, however, that it was only the outside of the tumblers that concerned him. He completed the task, set the objects of his attention carefully down on the tray the boy had brought, and reaching into his pocket, handed a quarter to the serving man. “You will do me great favor if you will fill these receptacles without placing fingers on same.” He turned to the boy. “That also applies to you. Do you understand? You are not to touch those glasses. Set tray on table as it is. Otherwise, when moment arrives for your tip, I develop far-away look in eye and can not see you.”
Returning to the lounge, Charlie found the Britisher already there. “Ah - Mr. Jaynes,” he said. “I am happy to see you again. You had good night’s rest, I hope?”
Jaynes stared at him. “No,” he replied, “I didn’t; but what of it?”
“So sorry,” Chan cried. “Waikiki is famous sleeping place, and being old resident of Honolulu, I experience deep pain when it fails to live up to reputation. Will you do me the honor to join me on this sofa?”
He dropped down on the seat, which creaked protestingly beneath him.
“Harsh voice of furniture proclaims to world my excessive avoirdupois,” he continued affably. “I diet and I fast, but to no avail. What is to be, will be. Man - who is he to fix own weight upon the scales? All that is determined elsewhere.”
Jaynes sat down beside him. “What can I do for you this morning, Inspector?” he inquired.
“You can accept, if you will be so kind, renewed apologies for detaining you on this island. Some people pronounce it Paradise, but even Paradise, I can appreciate, looks not so good when one is panting to travel elsewhere. Again my warm regrets. I assure you I apply myself with all possible speed to task of clearing u
p mystery, so that you may make quick exit.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” nodded Jaynes. He took out a case and offered Charlie one of his little black cigars. “No?” He lighted one himself. “You are making progress, I hope?”
“I encounter difficulties,” Charlie admitted. “Those who know, don’t talk; those who talk, don’t know. But that is always to be expected in my work. Within last hour I think I see faint glimmer of light ahead. Ah -” The Filipino boy had arrived with the tray. he set it down on a small table before them. “I should have said, Mr. Jaynes, that I am on orange-juice diet, and the hour of the drink is here I have ventured to order same for you.”
“Oh, no, thanks,” replied the Britisher. “I don’t believe -“
“Same is all prepared,” Charlie protested, and a note of imminent offense crept into his voice. “The beverage is harmless. You are not going to refuse?”
“Well - thank you,” said Jaynes. At the moment he wanted nothing less, but he knew how easily the feelings of a Chinese may be hurt, and he could not risk any further offense to this particular representative of the race. “You are very good.” He reached for a glass.
Beaming, Charlie lifted his own. “We will drink to my quick success, since you desire it equally with me.” He imbibed heartily, and set the glass down. “Presume mild nature of the liquid gives you hearty pain. I have noted how bitterly men from your country resent this prohibition.”
“What prohibition?” Jaynes inquired.
“Ah, you mock and jeer. Well, it is noble experiment, but it is not new, as many think. The Emperor Yu, who came to the throne of China in year 2205 B. C., said when he tasted liquor for the first time, this will do my people much harm, and forbade its use. His edict had good effect for a while, but later got lost in dim pages of history. China,” added Chan, drinking again, “like the purse of a generous man, has endured much. But it still survives.”
Charlie Chan [4] The Black Camel Page 15