The Black Camel

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by The Black Camel [lit]


  He came back to the center of the room. "We waste no time in fruitless search for letter now," he remarked. "I propose instead to fix in my mind our little group of characters, and perhaps learn from their lips just what they were engaged in doing at two minutes past eight to-night." He stood gazing at them thoughtfully. "I have some hesitation where to begin. Mr. Ballou, yours is familiar face, so I will start in your vicinity. Will you kindly state position in this house of yourself and Mrs. Ballou?"

  The millionaire looked at him with all the arrogance of the white man who has lived for a long time among what he considers inferior races. "Why should I do that?" he inquired carelessly.

  "Murder has been committed," replied Charlie sternly. "I recognize your high position on this island, but you are not above question. Will you deign to reply, please?"

  "We came here as dinner guests," Ballou said. "We are - we were old friends of Miss Fane."

  "You knew her in Hollywood?"

  "Yes."

  "Mrs. Ballou was, before her marriage to you, herself actress on famous silver screen?"

  "What if she was?" flared Ballou.

  "Why not be polite, Wilkie?" rebuked his wife. "Yes, Inspector, I was in the pictures, under the name of Rita Montaine. And if I do say it, I was rather well known."

  Chan bowed. "Could one of your charm be otherwise? May I inquire, please, how long you have been married?"

  "Three years this month," she told him amiably.

  "You resided, perhaps, in Hollywood up to moment of your marriage?"

  "Oh, yes."

  "Do you recall - was Mr. Ballou in Hollywood for some time previous to that marriage?"

  "Yes - he hung around for several months, pleading with me to give up my career and take him." Her husband snorted. "You may not recall it now, Wilkie, but you did."

  "What the devil," cried Ballou irritably, "has all that got to do with the murder of Shelah Fane? I believe, Inspector, that you are exceeding your authority. You'd better be careful - I'm not without influence -"

  "So sorry," said Chan soothingly. "I will come at once to the present. You arrived here to-night at what hour?"

  "At seven-thirty," he answered. "The dinner was not until eight-thirty, but Mrs. Ballou got the invitation over the telephone, and as usual" - he glared at his wife - "she balled things up."

  "At seven-thirty," put in Chan hastily, cutting off Rita's reply. "Describe actions down to present moment, please."

  "What are you getting at?" objected Ballou roughly. "You don't think I killed Shelah Fane, do you? By gad, I'll speak to some one down at the station about this. Do you know who I am -"

  "Oh, who are you, anyhow, Wilkie?" his wife put in wearily. "Why not tell the Inspector what he wants to know and have done with it?" She turned to Chan. "We arrived about seven-thirty, and after a little chat with Miss Fane, stepped out on the beach to watch the bathers. It was about a quarter to eight when we went out there, I imagine."

  "You were engaged in this manner how long?"

  "Answering for myself, I was on the beach until Jessop came out at eight-thirty. About ten minutes before that, Mr. Van Horn joined us and my husband got up and strolled toward the house."

  "At two minutes past eight, then, yourself and husband were seated side by side on sand. You heard no cry or other indication of disturbance?"

  "None at all. The two girls in the water were doing more or less screaming - you know how people will. But that's not the sort of thing you mean?"

  "Not precisely," replied Chan. "Thank you so much. We drop you for the present."

  Julie O'Neill came slowly into the room. The new pink evening gown she had looked forward to wearing at the party was back on its hangar, and she had donned a simple little dress of gray chiffon. Her face was still decidedly pale, but she seemed calm and collected now. Chan turned to her.

  "Good evening. I am so sorry to be here. Not until this moment have I encountered the pleasant thrill of seeing you. Would you mind informing me just who you are?"

  Bradshaw came forward. He introduced Julie to Chan, and went on to explain the girl's place in the household.

  "My heart's deepest sympathy," Charlie remarked. "As mere matter of form, I must ask about your actions during this most tragic evening."

  "I can tell you all about that," Bradshaw informed him, "and kill two birds - oh, sorry - I mean to say, give you my own story at the same time. I arrived at the house early for a swim with Miss O'Neill. The last time we saw Miss Fane was in this room when we came down dressed for the water - that was about seventy-forty. She was here with Mr. and Mrs. Ballou, and Mr. Jaynes."

  "You went immediately to the beach?"

  "We did - and on into the water. It was marvelous - pardon me if I put in a small advertisement for the local bathing beach. What I mean to say is, Miss O'Neill and I were together from the time we saw Miss Fane until about eight-thirty, when Jessop rang the gong calling us in. It was soon after that we made our unhappy discovery."

  "You remained in water at all times?"

  "Oh, no - we came back to the beach now and then. Mrs. Ballou was there from the start, as she says. Mr. Ballow disappeared toward the last and Mr. Van Horn showed up."

  "At two minutes past eight, then, you and Miss Julie were either in water or making brief excursion to shore?"

  "One or the other - we had no means of knowing the time, of course. It went very quickly. We were surprised when Jessop called us in."

  Chan turned to the girl. "Miss Fane was wearing tonight pretty nice bouquet of orchids on shoulder?"

  Julie nodded. "Yes."

  "Fastened with pin, no doubt?"

  "Of course."

  "Did you by any chance note the pin?"

  "No, I didn't. But I remember her saying she was going to her room to get one. Perhaps her maid can tell you about that."

  "Are you in position to know who it was sent those orchids?"

  "I am," Julie replied. "There was no name, but Miss Fane recognized the writing on the card. She said they came from her ex-husband, Bob somebody - he's an actor playing with a stock company in Honolulu."

  "Bob Fyfe," explained Rita Ballou. "He's in the company down at the Royal. They were married when Shelah was quite young, and I believe she was always very fond of him, even after their divorce."

  Alan Jaynes rose and, taking a small cigar from a case, lighted it, then walked nervously about the room, seeking a place to throw the match.

  "A discarded husband," mused Charlie. "Ah, yes, I would expect at least one of those. This man should be notified at once, and arrive here with all speed possible."

  "I'll attend to it, Charlie," offered Jimmy Bradshaw.

  "Warmest thanks," Chan remarked. As the boy left the room, he turned to the others. "We now resume somewhat rude questioning. Mr. Van Horn, you are actor, perhaps?"

  "Perhaps?" laughed Van Horn. "Well, that's flattering. The reward of ten years' hard work."

  "You have, then, been in Hollywood for the past ten years?"

  "Ten years and a half - lost in what the amiable Mr. Mencken calls the sewers of Hollywood."

  "And before that?"

  "Oh, before that I led a most romantic life - ask my press-agent."

  "I seek to determine facts," Charlie said.

  "In that case I shall have to tell you that I came there wide-eyed and innocent, from an engineering school. I planned to build bridges, but my fatal beauty intervened."

  "You have appeared with Miss Shelah Fane in other pictures before this one?"

  "No." Van Horn grew more serious. "I scarcely knew her until I was engaged for this part."

  "I do not need to ask where you were at two minutes past eight to-night?" Chan continued.

  "No, you don't," the actor agreed. "I was in the same room with you. You'll remember I looked at my watch and remarked that it was eight o'clock, and that I was toddling along down here. At two minutes past the hour I was still where you could see me - if you cared to avail yourself of
the privilege."

  "You came to this house immediately?"

  "Yes - I walked. Exercise - that's how I keep in trim. I got here about eight-fifteen - I didn't hurry. Jessop let me in, we had a little chat, and at about eight-twenty I joined Mrs. Ballou on the beach, as you've already heard."

  Jimmy Bradshaw returned. "I got that man Fyfe at the theater," he announced. "My news just about bowled the poor fellow over. He said he would be through after the second act, and would come right along."

  "Thank you most warmly," Chan nodded. "You have most helpful nature." He turned to Martino. "You are what they call a director, I think."

  "Yes, they call me that," replied Martino grimly. "Among other things."

  "You have been engaged in this work a long time?"

  "Not very long. I was formerly an actor, on the English stage. Got interested in the pictures, you know, and eventually went to Hollywood."

  "Could you mention date of arrival?"

  "Surely. I landed there two years ago last March."

  "At that date, you saw the place for the first time?"

  "Yes - of course."

  Charlie nodded. "With regard to this evening, I can also omit to ask from you your exact location at two minutes past eight."

  "Naturally. I was with you and these other chaps at the hotel. As I believe I told you, when I left you just after eight o'clock, I went with Mr. Jaynes on to the terrace. I tried to calm him a bit, but he broke away and wandered down the beach. I sat there on the beach walk for some twenty-five minutes, admiring the set. When I saw you again, I had just been upstairs to get my hat, intending to come down here."

  Charlie looked over at Alan Jaynes, nervously smoking his small cigar in a distant corner. "Mr. Jaynes," he said.

  The Britisher rose and approached him, consulting his watch as he did so. "Yes?" he remarked.

  Charlie regarded him gravely. "You are, I believe, one of the people who suffer most from this death to-night?"

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "It is reported that you loved Shelah Fane."

  "Reported - by whom?" The man looked angrily at Tarneverro.

  "No matter," said Chan. "You had asked her to marry you?"

  "I had."

  "Then you loved her?"

  "Look here - must you make a public inquisition of this?"

  "So sorry. It is, I perceive, somewhat indiscreet on my part. Mr. Bradshaw has told me you were in this room at seven-forty to-night."

  "I was. I had come to dinner."

  "And to have, first of all, a private conversation with Miss Fane?"

  "Yes. But the nature of that conversation is none of your business."

  Charlie smiled. "Alas! I know so much that is none of my business. You ask for her final decision in the matter of marriage. She rejects you, and you suspect Mr. Tarneverro here is responsible for the action. You tramp angrily back to hotel, seeking to make quarrel with this same Tarneverro. So, at two minutes past eight, you stand in hotel lounge, glowering. Which, dear sir, is fortunate affair for you."

  "I take it," Jaynes said, "that you have fixed the moment of this - this murder, at two minutes after eight?"

  "I have," Chan replied.

  Jaynes tossed his cigar into an ash-tray with a gesture of deep relief. "Thank God for that. Have you any more questions?"

  "You saw Miss Fane for final time when you left this room at about fifteen minutes before eight?"

  "That was the last time I saw her - yes."

  "Then you did not return here between eight-five and eight-thirty-five?"

  "I did not."

  "Have you ever been in Hollywood, Mr. Jaynes?"

  The Britisher laughed bitterly. "I have not - and I'm not likely to go there."

  "That is all, sir," Chan nodded.

  "Thank you. I'll say good-by. I happen to be sailing on the Oceanic at midnight."

  Charlie looked at him in sudden surprise. "You are leaving Hawaii to-night?"

  "I am."

  The detective shrugged. "I am so sorry to disappoint you. The matter is impossible."

  "Why should it be?" Jaynes demanded.

  "You are somewhat deeply involved in this affair."

  "But you say you've fixed the moment of the murder - and at that moment I was standing in your presence. It's a perfect alibi."

  "Perfect alibis have way of turning imperfect without warning," Charlie informed him. "I regret that I can not allow you to sail. The Oceanic will be carefully watched, and no one connected with this affair will be permitted to leave the island aboard her. Or on any other ship, for the present."

  An angry flush spread over the Britisher's face. "On what grounds do you keep me here?"

  "As an important witness in present case," Chan replied. "I will go to extreme length of swearing out warrant, if necessary."

  "I can at least go back to the hotel," Jaynes suggested.

  "When I permit it," Charlie said gently. "Meanwhile, I hope you will find for yourself a comfortable chair."

  Jaynes glared at him, then receded into the background. The door-bell rang, and Jessop admitted two men. One was a tall angular American with a deputy sheriff's badge, the other a small anxious-looking Japanese.

  "Ah, Mr. Coroner," Chan greeted the deputy, who doubled in that role. "And Kashimo. As usual, Kashimo, you are demon for speed to get on job. Is it too much to assume that you arrive here with horse and carriage?"

  The deputy spoke. "They sent him to fetch me, and he finally managed it. Where did this thing happen, Charlie?"

  "In a moment I lead you to the place," Charlie said.

  "Maybe I search house," suggested Kashimo.

  Chan regarded him sadly. "It would appear that there was great shortage of detectives at station house tonight," he said. "No, Mr. Kashimo, please do not search house - at least, not until somebody tells you what you are searching for." He turned to the deputy. "If you will follow me -"

  Diana Dixon came into the room. She wore a white evening gown, and her elaborate make-up was sufficient explanation of the long delay in her appearance. Chan looked at her with interest.

  "Here is some one about whom I have not heard before," he said.

  "Who in the world -" began Diana, staring at him.

  "Do not be alarmed," smiled Charlie. "I am Inspector Chan, of Honolulu police. You are in Hawaii now."

  "Oh, I see," she answered.

  "Your name, please?"

  She gave it.

  "You are guest in house, perhaps?"

  "I am. Miss Fane was kind enough to take me in. You know, I've just come up from the South Seas with her - I acted in her last picture."

  "An actress," nodded Chan. "I find myself dazzled by so much fame and beauty. All the same, I collect myself to inquire - what have you been engaged in doing this evening?"

  "Why, I've been in swimming," she told him.

  "When did you last see Miss Fane?"

  "When I went up-stairs to put on my bathing-suit - I don't know what time that was. Mr. Bradshaw had just come, and Miss Julie and he and I went up to change. We left Miss Fane standing here in the hall. Some one was ringing the door-bell."

  "You came down and entered the water with these young people?"

  "Oh, no - it took me a lot longer to change. It was eight o'clock when I was finally ready - I noticed the clock on my dressing-table just before I left my room. I'd no idea it was so late - so I hurried down -"

  "You did not see Miss Fane?"

  "No, I didn't. This room was empty when I came through it. I crossed the lanai and stepped out on the lawn -"

  "At a little time past eight?"

  "Yes - it must have been three or four minutes past the hour. As I ran over the lawn, I saw a man come hurriedly away from the pavilion -"

 

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