"You saw a man leaving the pavilion? Who was he?"
"I don't know. I couldn't see his face. I thought he was one of the guests, and I shouted hello. But he didn't answer."
"You are able to describe him?" Chan asked.
"Not his face - that was in shadow, as I told you. But he was wearing a coat - an overcoat - I thought it odd on a night like this. The coat was open, and a streak of light from the kitchen window fell on his shirt-front. He was dressed in evening clothes, you see, and across his white shirt -" Suddenly she turned pale and sat down weakly in the nearest chair. "Oh, my God," she cried, "I never thought of it before."
"You never thought of what before?" Charlie prompted.
"That stain on his shirt - that long, narrow, bright red stain," she gasped. "It - it must have been blood."
Chapter VI
FIREWORKS IN THE RAIN
For a moment, stunned by the picture Miss Dixon's words presented, the assemblage was silent. Then a low murmur, a buzz of amazed comment, filled the room. Charlie Chan stood looking at his newest witness speculatively, as though he asked himself whether her statement could possibly be true.
"Most interesting," he said at last. "There has been, then, on these grounds to-night, a gentleman whose presence was up to this moment unsuspected by me. Whether or not he carried blood-soaked shirt bosom -"
"But I tell you I saw it," the girl protested.
Chan shrugged. "Perhaps. Oh, most humble pardon - I do not question your truth. I merely mention overwrought nerves, or maybe optic illusion. You must excuse if I say I might admit murderer would be so clumsy at his work as to inundate himself, but reason totters on pedestal to add that such a man would rush from scene of crime with coat flapping open on his error. Rather I would picture him with garment wrapped close to hide away this crimson evidence. But what does it matter? We must at any rate pursue thought of man with overcoat. The idea in itself presents portrait of queer human being. Overcoat in smiling tropics, even over evening dress, is unaccustomed garb." He turned to Julie. "And what, please, is name of man servant in this house?"
"You mean Jessop?" she inquired.
"I mean the butler. Will you summon him - if I am not getting too obnoxious?"
Julie went into the hall, and Charlie turned to the deputy sheriff. "I find it impossible to accompany you to scene of crime just yet. Same took place in small beach house at right of lawn - please accept this key. You may begin examination, and I will join you when I have interrogated servants here."
"Did you find the weapon, Charlie?" asked the coroner.
"I did not. That was, I think, carried off by the assailant. He was person, you will find, who had wits in good control." Charlie turned to the Japanese. "Kashimo, you may enjoy yourself by keen observation of the neighborhood. But if you repeat one former performance and spoil any footprints for me, I will at once arrange for you to return to former position as janitor of fish market."
The coroner and the little Japanese went out. At the same moment Jessop held open the curtains and followed Julie into the room. The butler was pale and agitated.
"The name is Jessop?" Charlie inquired.
"Yes - ah - sir."
"You understand who it is that I am?"
"I take it you represent the local constabulary, sir."
Chan grinned. "If it will help you to endure society of person like me, Jessop, I offer statement that my humble efforts on one occasion met with the complete approval of a gentleman from Scotland Yard."
"Really, sir?" answered Jessop. "The memory must be most gratifying to you."
"It is, indeed. How long is it now that you have been Miss Fane's butler?"
"Two years, sir."
"You were in Hollywood before that, maybe?"
"For about eighteen months, I was."
"A butler, always?"
"Always a butler, sir. I had a number of berths before I went with Miss Fane. I am bound to say that I was unhappily in all of them."
"The work was, perhaps, too difficult?"
"Not at all, sir. I objected to the familiarity of my employers. There is a certain reserve that should exist between servant and master. I found that lacking. The ladies I worked for would often weep in my presence and tell me stories of unrequited love. The gentlemen who engaged me were inclined to treat me like some long-lost brother. One in particular was accustomed to address me as 'old pal' and when a bit under the influence, would embrace me in the presence of guests. A man has his dignity, sir."
"It has been well said, without dignity there can be no stature," Charlie assured him. "You found Miss Fane of a different type?"
"I did indeed, sir. A lady who knew her place as I knew mine. There was never any undue informality in her treatment of me."
"Relations were, then, of the happiest?"
"That they were. I should like to add that I am quite heart-broken by this evening's business, sir."
"Ah, yes - coming to this evening - did any of the gentlemen whom you admitted here to-night wear an overcoat, Jessop?"
"An overcoat, sir?" Jessop's white eyebrows went up.
"Yes. With dinner costume, you understand."
"No, sir," replied Jessop firmly. "No such gaucherie of dress was evident, Constable."
Chan smiled. "Kindly look about the room. Do you recall admitting any visitor with exception of those now visible to your view?"
"No, sir," returned Jessop, surveying the party.
"Thank you. When did you last see Miss Fane?"
"It was in this room, at about twenty minutes after seven, when I brought her a box of flowers. I heard her voice after that, but I did not see her."
"Please detail your activities from hour of twenty minutes past seven onward," Chan requested.
"I was engaged with my duties, sir, in the dining-room and the kitchen. I may add that it has been a rather trying evening, in my department. The Chinese cook has exhibited all the worst qualities of a heathen race - I'm sure I beg your pardon."
"A heathen race," repeated Charlie gravely, "that was busy inventing the art of printing at moment when gentlemen in Great Britain were still beating one another over head with spiked clubs. Pray excuse this brief reference to history. The cook has been in uproar?"
"Yes, Constable. He has proved himself sorely deficient in that patience for which his people have long been noted. Then, too, the - er - the bootlegger, to use one of your - or their - American phrases, has been unforgivably late."
"Ah - you already possess bootlegger?"
"Yes, sir. Miss Fane was a temperate woman herself, but she knew her duties as a hostess. So Wu Kno-ching, the cook, arranged with a friend to deliver a bit of liquor just out of the laboratory, and a wine of the most recent vintage."
"I am deeply shocked," Chan replied. "Wu's friend was late?"
"He was indeed, sir. As I say, I was busy with my duties from the moment I gave Miss Fane the flowers. At two minutes past eight -"
"Why do you make selection of two minutes past eight?"
"I could not help but overhear your questions to these others, sir. At that moment I was in the kitchen -"
"Alone?"
"No, sir. Wu was there, of course. And Anna, the maid, had dropped in for a cup of tea to sustain her until dinner. I called Wu's attention to the fact that it was already past eight o'clock, and we had a few words about the bootlegger's tardiness. The three of us remained there together until ten after eight, when Wu's friend made a rather sheepish appearance, and I immediately set about to do what I could with the ingredients he brought. At fifteen past eight, I came out to admit Mr. Van Horn. From that point on I was in and out of this room, sir, but I did not leave the house until I went to the beach and sounded the dinner gong."
"I am obliged to you for a most complete account," Charlie nodded. "That is all, Jessop."
The butler hesitated. "There is one other matter, Constable."
"Ah, yes. What is that?"
"I do not know whether o
r not it has any significance, sir, but it came back to me when I heard this terrible news. There is a small library up-stairs, and to-day, when I had cleared away the luncheon things, I went in there to secure a book, planning to take it to my room as a recreation during my siesta. I came suddenly upon Miss Fane. She was looking at a photograph and weeping most bitterly, sir."
"A photograph of whom?"
"That I couldn't say, sir, save that it was of some gentleman. She held it so I could not obtain a better view of the face, and hurriedly left the room. All I can tell you is that it was a rather large photograph, and was mounted on a mat that was Nile green in color."
Chan nodded. "Thank you so much. Will you be kind enough to dispatch heathen cook into my presence, Jessop?"
"I will indeed, sir," replied Jessop, and withdrew.
Charlie looked about the circle. "The matter lengthens itself out," he remarked kindly. "I observe beyond windows a cool lanai crowded with nice Hongkong chairs. Any who wish to do so may stroll to more airy perch. One thing only I ask - please do not leave these grounds."
There followed a general movement and amid a low buzz of comment all save Bradshaw, Julie, Tarneverro and Chan went out on the dim lanai. The fortune-teller looked keenly at Charlie.
"What have you accomplished?" he wanted to know.
Charlie shrugged. "Up to the present moment, I seem to have been setting off fireworks in the rain."
"That's precisely what I thought," Tarneverro said impatiently.
"Do not lose heart -" Chan advised. "Changing the figure, I might add that to dig up the tree, we must start with the root. All this digging is routine matter that does not fascinate, but at any moment we may strike a root of vital importance."
"I sincerely hope so," Tarneverro remarked.
"Oh, you trust Charlie," Bradshaw said. "One of Honolulu's first citizens, he is. He'll get his man."
Wu Kno-ching came in, mumbling to himself, and Charlie addressed him sharply in Cantonese. Looking at him with sleepy eyes, Wu replied at some length.
The high-pitched, singsong exchange of words between these two representatives of the oldest civilized nation in the world grew faster and louder, and on Wu's part, seemingly more impassioned. The three outsiders stood there deeply interested; it was like a play in some dead language; they could not understand the lines but they were conscious of a strong current of drama underneath. Once Chan, who had up to that point been seemingly uninterested, lifted his head like a bird-dog on the scent. He went closer to the old man, and seized his arm. One recognizable word in Wu's conversation occurred again and again. He mentioned the "bootleggah."
Finally, with a shrug, Chan turned away.
"What's he say, Charlie?" asked Bradshaw eagerly.
"He knows nothing," Chan answered.
"What was all that about the bootlegger?"
Charlie gave the boy a keen look. "The tongue of age speaks with accumulated wisdom, and is heard gladly, but the tongue of youth should save its strength," he remarked.
"Yours received and contents noted," smiled the boy.
Chan turned to Julie. "You have spoken of Miss Fane's maid. She alone remains to be interviewed. Will you be so good as to produce her?"
Julie nodded and went out. Wu Kno-ching still lingered at the door, and now he burst into a tirade, with appropriate gestures. Charlie listened for a moment, and then shooed the old man from the room.
"Wu complains that no one eats his dinner," he smiled. "He is great artist who lacks appreciation, and his ancient heart cracks with rage."
"Well," remarked Jimmy Bradshaw, "I suppose it's an unfeeling thing to say, but I could put away a little of his handiwork."
Chan nodded. "I have thought of that. Later, perhaps. Why not? Do the dead gain if the living starve?"
Julie returned, followed by Anna, the maid. The latter was a dark thin woman who moved gracefully.
"The name, please?" Chan inquired.
"Anna Rodderick," she answered. There was just a trace of defiance in her tone.
"You have been with Miss Shelah Fane how long?"
"Something like a year and a half, sir."
"I see. Before that you were perhaps employed elsewhere in Hollywood?"
"No, sir, I was not. I went with Miss Fane the day after my arrival there, and I have never been employed by any one else in the picture colony."
"How did you happen to go to California, please?"
"I was in service in England, and a friend wrote me of the higher wages that prevailed in the States."
"Your relations with Miss Fane - they were pleasant?"
"Naturally, sir, or I wouldn't have remained with her. There were many other positions available."
"Did she ever admit you into her confidence regarding personal affairs?"
"No, sir, she did not. It was one of the things I liked about her."
"When did you last see your mistress?"
"At a bit before seven-thirty. I was about to go down to the kitchen for a cup of tea, for I saw that my dinner was likely to be long delayed. Miss Fane came to her room - I was in the one adjoining. She called to me and said she wanted a pin for some orchids she had in her hand. I went and got it for her."
"Kindly describe the pin."
"It was a rather delicate affair, set with diamonds. About two inches long, I should say. I fastened the flowers to the shoulder-strap of her gown."
"Did she remark about those flowers?" Charlie inquired.
"She said they were sent to her by some one of whom she was once very fond. She seemed a bit excited."
"What happened next?"
"She sat down at the telephone," Anna told him. "There is an extension in her room. She looked up a number in the telephone book and then busied herself with the dial, sir."
"Maybe you heard subsequent conversation?" Chan suggested.
"I am not accustomed to spying, sir. I left her at once and went down to the kitchen."
"You were in the kitchen at two minutes past eight?"
"Yes, sir. I recall the hour because there was a great deal of talk between Jessop and the cook about the bootlegger."
"You were still in the kitchen when this bootlegger came, at ten minutes past eight?"
"I was, sir. A little later I went back to my room."
"You did not see your mistress again?"
"No, sir, I did not."
"One other thing." Chan looked at her thoughtfully. "Kindly speak of her manner during the day. Was it same as always?"
"I noticed nothing unusual."
"You did not note that she was seen with a portrait - the portrait of a gentleman - during the afternoon?"
"I was not here this afternoon. It was our first day ashore, and Miss Fane kindly gave me a few hours off."
"Have you ever seen, among Miss Fane's possessions, portrait of gentleman mounted on Nile-green mat?"
"Miss Fane always carried with her a large portfolio, containing many pictures of her friends. It may be such a one is among them."
"But you never saw it?"
"I have never opened the portfolio. That would seem too much like prying - if I may say so, sir."
"Do you know where portfolio is now?" Charlie asked.
"I believe it is lying on a table in her room. Shall I fetch it for you?"
"A little later, perhaps. Just now I would inquire - you are familiar with jewelry usually worn by Miss Fane on occasion of evening party? Aside from diamond pin fastening orchids, I mean?"
"I think so, sir."
"Will you come with me, please?"
Leaving the others in the drawing-room, he led the maid across the moonlit lawn in the direction of the pavilion. They went in, and Anna lost her composure for a moment at sight of Shelah Fane. She gave a strangled little cry.
"Kindly conduct thorough search," Chan said to her, "and inform me if all jewelry is at present time in place."
Anna nodded without speaking. The coroner came over to greet Chan.
&nbs
p; "I've made my examination," he said. "This is a pretty big thing, Charlie. I'd better send somebody to help you out."
Chan smiled. "I have Kashimo," he answered. "What more could any man ask? Tell Chief I will report entire matter to him at earliest convenience." They stepped out on the lanai of the pavilion, and at the same moment Kashimo crept like a correspondence-school sleuth from a cluster of bushes at the corner of the building.
The Black Camel Page 7