Charlie Chan [4] The Black Camel

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Charlie Chan [4] The Black Camel Page 11

by Earl Derr Biggers


  “I know,” Chan nodded. He stood for a moment, looking at the tiny letter B done with black ink on the silk border. He glanced over at Wilkie Ballou. The planter stared back at him, and taking a handkerchief from his own pocket, casually mopped his brow.

  Chapter X

  “SHELAH FROM DENNY”

  Shrugging his broad shoulders, Charlie turned back to Martino. The director’s face was even more crimson than usual, and he was breathing hard.

  “Do you wish to make statement,” Chan asked, “as to moment when you think this object was placed on your person?”

  Martino considered. “When we were leaving the dining-room a while back,” he said, “we were all crowded together round the door. I thought then that I felt a little tug at my pocket.”

  “Just who was near you at that instant?”

  “It’s hard to say. Everybody was there together. The matter is serious, and I don’t like to guess.” He paused, and glanced at the fortune-teller. “I do recall that Mr. Tarneverro wasn’t far away.”

  “Is that an accusation?” asked Tarneverro coldly.

  “Not precisely. I can’t be sure -“

  “You’d like nothing better than to be sure,” the fortune-teller suggested.

  Martino laughed. “You’ve hit it there, my friend. I haven’t much love for you, and you know it. If I’d had my way, you’d have been run out of Hollywood long ago.”

  “Failing that, you’ve gone about secretly warning the women against me.”

  “What do you mean, secretly? I’ve done it openly, and you know it. I’ve told them to keep away from you -“

  “Why?”

  “I don’t like the look in your eyes, my friend. What was it you told poor Shelah this morning? What did she tell you?”

  “That is something I’d not be likely to discuss with you. So you sat on the beach by the water, did you?”

  “Oh, don’t get too cocky over that alibi of yours,” Martino cried. “How did you happen to have it so pat and ready? Reading the future again, eh?”

  “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Charlie protested. “We are arriving precisely nowhere by this. I perceive that nerves are very much up on edge, and I am glad to push open doors and put quick end to investigation. You are all free to depart.”

  There was an instant dash for the hall. Chan followed.

  “Just one word to add,” he said, “though I am certain that by now the buzz of my voice in your ears must be most tiresome sound. But please remember - you rest on small island in the midst of broad Pacific ocean. Attempt by any one of you to go aboard ship will be instantly known to us, and regarded with dark suspicious eye. Stay on, I beg of you, and enjoy beauties of spot, on which subject Mr. Bradshaw will be happy to make oration for you any time, any place.”

  “That’s right,” the boy nodded. “Loaf on a palm-fringed shore and forget your troubles. Somewhere winter is raging -“

  “In July?” Van Horn inquired.

  “Sure - at the South Pole, for example. Put Hollywood out of your thoughts. Remember - Hawaii has the climate California thinks it has.”

  The door closed behind Ballou and his wife. Van Horn, Martino and Jaynes followed promptly. Bradshaw resumed to the living-room, where Julie and Diana had remained, leaving the fortune-teller and Charlie in the hall. Tarneverro picked up his hat.

  “Inspector,” he remarked, “you have my sympathy. You are up against a puzzling case.”

  “Also I have your help,” Chan reminded him. “The thought consoles me.”

  Tarneverro shook his head. “I’m afraid you over-estimate my powers. But whatever they are, they are ranged on your side. When am I to see you again?”

  “I will call on you tomorrow morning,” Chan answered. “We will have good long talk. Perhaps, thinking deeply into matter over night, each of us will have new ideas to offer.”

  “I shall try to supply my share,” nodded Tarneverro, and went out. For a moment Charlie stood looking at the door through which he had gone, then turning, he went into the living-room.

  “Miss Dixon,” he said, “may I make further request of you? Will you ascend stairs with me and point out various rooms naming the persons to whom they have been assigned? I still have a little searching to do before repose.”

  “Of course,” nodded the actress, “and speaking of repose, I hope you’ll search my room first. I feel all in after this dreadful evening.”

  She and Charlie disappeared. With a forlorn gesture, Julie sank into a chair.

  “Poor kid!” said Mr. Bradshaw.

  “Oh, Jimmy - it has been a dreadful evening, hasn’t it?”

  “It surely has. Think, Julie, think. You were closer to Shelah Fane than any one else. Have you no idea who did - this terrible thing?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t imagine. Of course, Shelah had enemies - all successful people have - she was envied, perhaps even hated. But I never dreamed any one hated her as much as this. It’s just unbelievable, that’s all.”

  The boy sat down beside her. “Let’s forget it for a while. How about you? What are you going to do now?”

  “Oh - I suppose I’ll go back where I came from.”

  “Where did you come from? You haven’t told me.”

  “From a theatrical boardinghouse in Chicago - I was traveling with my mother when she - she left me. Stage people, you see, all my folks - father too. Mother called San Francisco home, though she seldom saw it. But she was born there - so many good actors were, you know. And she -“

  “She was one of the best, I guess,” said Jimmy Bradshaw.

  “I thought so. I’ve got a grandmother there now - seventy-two, but she goes trouping occasionally - she’s such a darling, Jimmy. I think I’ll go to her, and get some sort of job - I could make good in an office, I believe. Grandmother would be glad to have me; we’re all that’s left of - us.”

  Bradshaw pulled himself together. “If no one else wants to speak, may I say a few words about Hawaii? Everywhere we have poetry and glamour. The climate breeds happiness and laughter, a natural reflection of the sunlight, the rainbows and the purple hills. Here there are no sunstrokes and no snow. Honolulu has its message of beauty for every heart. As for -“

  “Jimmy, what in the world -“

  “As for the people, where nature is kind man can not help but be. You will find -“

  “I don’t get you, Jimmy.”

  “It’s simple enough. I’ve sold this place to fifty thousand tourists, and now I want to sell it to you. As a substitute for grandmother, you see. No doubt she’s a darling, as you say. Maybe I’m not, but I’m young yet. For of course it isn’t just Honolulu I’m selling. I’m thrown in, you know. How about it, Julie? A little bungalow nestling under two mortgages and a bougainvillea vine -“

  “You - you mean you love me, Jimmy?” the girl asked.

  “Oh, lord - did I omit that line? I shall have to rewrite the whole darn piece. Naturally, I love you. Who wouldn’t? It may not be the most fitting time for me to say all this, but I don’t want you to think that I’ve fallen into the habit of putting things off, just because I live in the lazy latitudes. I’m crazy about you, and before you write grandmother to come down and meet your boat - she might be away trouping anyhow - I want you to give a thought to Hawaii - and to me. Will you do it, Julie?”

  She nodded. “I will, Jimmy.”

  “That’s good enough for me,” he smiled.

  Chan came silently into the room, and the boy stood up. “Well, Charlie, you ready to go along? I let my brother have my car tonight, so I’m honoring you with my presence in that famous flivver of yours.”

  “You will be remarkably welcome,” Chan told him. “Yes - I travel townward almost at once. There remains one little matter -“

  Anna, the maid, came hurriedly into the room. “Miss Dixon said you wanted to see me,” she remarked to Chan.

  He nodded. “A trifling affair. You told me earlier this evening that a certain ring was missing from Miss Fane
’s finger after the homicide. An emerald ring.”

  “I did, sir.”

  Julie O’Neill was leaning forward, breathless, her eyes wide.

  “Is this the ring?” Chan suddenly produced a platinum band decorated with a surprising stone that flashed green in the brightly lighted room.

  “That is it, sir,” Anna nodded.

  Chan turned to Julie. “So sorry to drag you in. But will you kindly tell me - how does it happen I find this bauble in the drawer of your dressing-table?” The girl gasped, and Jimmy Bradshaw looked at her in amazement. “I am very sorry this question comes out, which disappoints me sadly,” Charlie continued. “But I should say, things need explanation.”

  “It’s very simple,” answered Julie in a low voice.

  “Naturally,” bowed Chan. “Just how simple, according to your story?”

  “Well.” She hesitated. “There are only a few of us here - I can speak frankly. Shelah was always hard up. Somehow money meant nothing to her, it slipped through her fingers, it was gone a moment after she got it. She came back from the South Seas in her usual state - more or less broke. Every one was always cheating her, stealing from her -“

  “Every one?” Chan repeated. “You mean her servants, perhaps?”

  “Some of them, yes - when they had a chance. But that doesn’t matter. Shelah arrived here in need of money, as always. She’d drawn all the advance she could get from the company - they haven’t been as generous of late as they used to be. To-day, just after she reached the house, she sent for me and said she must have ready money at once. She gave me this ring and told me to sell it for her, if I could. I was to make a round of the jewelers immediately - this afternoon. But I put it off. I wasn’t keen for the job. However, I fully intended to go in the morning - if this thing hadn’t happened tonight. That’s how I chanced to have the ring.”

  Chan considered. “She gave it to you just after she reached house. At what time, precisely?”

  “At eight o’clock this morning.”

  “You have had it ever since?”

  “Yes, of course. I put it in that drawer - I thought it would be safe there.”

  “That is all you wish to tell me?”

  “That is all.” The girl seemed on the point of tears.

  Charlie turned to the maid. “You may go, Anna,” he said.

  “Very good, sir.” Anna glanced at the girl, and then went out.

  Charlie sighed heavily. Even though he came of a nocturnal race, the night was beginning to wear on him. He took the ring beneath a light and examined it with his magnifying-glass. There was, he noted, an inscription inside. “Shelah from Denny.” So Denny Mayo came back into the case? Chan shrugged.

  When he turned about, he perceived that Julie was weeping silently. Bradshaw had put his arm about her shoulder. “That’s all right, honey,” the boy said. “Charlie believes you. Don’t you, Charlie?”

  Chan bowed from the waist. “In the presence of so much charm, could I have brutal doubts? Miss Julie, I am sorrowed to perceive your overwrought state. Mr. Bradshaw and I depart at once, leaving to you the solace of slumber. You have youth, and sleep will come. I bid you most sympathetic good night.”

  He disappeared through the curtains, and with a few whispered words to the girl, Bradshaw followed. Jessop, restraining a yawn but firmly polite as always, saw them out. On the steps Charlie stood for a moment, staring at the sky and drawing in a deep breath of the open air.

  “It is something to recall,” he said, “that during long painful ordeal in that house, stars were still shining and soft tropic night progressed as usual. What have I not been through? A brief respite will be lovely as soft music in the rain.”

  They got into his car, waiting alone and lonely in the drive.

  “Pretty much up against it, eh, Charlie?” the boy suggested.

  Chan nodded. “Dizzy feeling causes my head to circulate. I have upearthed so much, and yet I have upearthed nothing.” They bowled along, past the Moana Hotel, in unaccustomed darkness now. The pink walls of the Grand glowed with a new splendor in the moonlight. “When you telephoned me,” Chan added, “I was about to begin serious operation on a small fish. One taste I had was excellent. Alas! little fish and I will never meet again.”

  “A shame to spoil your dinner,” Bradshaw replied.

  “I will be content if your news does not also spoil my reputation,” Charlie told him. “How am I going to emerge from the affair? In shining garments of success, or in sack-cloth with ashes?”

  “I called up the morning paper,” the boy told him. “Used to work there, you know. They were short of men at the moment, and I landed the job of covering the story so far. Got to go back now and write it. I’ll say that the police haven’t a notion just at present - is that correct?”

  Charlie barely avoided a collision with the curb. “Have you no better understanding of your task than that? Say nothing of the sort. Police have many clues and expect early arrest.”

  “But that’s the same old bunk, Charlie. And judging from your talk, it isn’t true in this case.”

  “Seldom true in any case,” Chan reminded him. “You should know that.”

  “Well, I’ll say it - to please you, Charlie. By the way, did I hear Tarneverro intimate he was working with you?”

  “Yes - he fancies himself as bright assistant.”

  “He may be bright all right - but are you keen for his help?”

  Charlie shrugged. “The bird chooses the tree, not the tree the bird,” he remarked.

  “Well, Tarneverro’s a queer bird, all right. He gives me a funny sensation when I look at him.” They rode on in silence for a time. “Anyhow, one thing’s certain,” the boy said at last.

  “Is that really so?” Chan inquired. “Name it, please. I seem to have overlooked it in my haste.”

  “I mean - Julie had nothing to do with this affair.”

  Charlie grinned in the dark. “I have recollections myself,” he said.

  “Of what?”

  “Being young - and muddled by love. Since I am now the father of eleven children, it is necessarily some time since I went about with head in clouds and warmly beating heart. But memories remain.”

  “Oh, nonsense,” protested Bradshaw. “I’m looking at this thing coldly - as a rank outsider.”

  “Then I humbly suggest you have old Hawaii moon overhauled at once,” commented Chan. “For it must be losing magic power you write about so glowingly.”

  He drew up before the newspaper office, the sound of his brakes grating noisily in the deserted street. On the lower floor of the building one lonely light burned dimly, but the upstairs windows were bright yellow with activity. There men sat sorting the cable news that was flowing in from the far corners of the world, from Europe, Asia, the mainland - brief bits of information thought worthy of transmission to this small island dreaming in the midst of the great Pacific.

  Jimmy Bradshaw moved as though to alight, then paused. Out of the corner of his eye he glanced at Charlie. “I don’t suppose I can have it now, can I?” he inquired.

  “You can not,” Chan replied firmly.

  “What are you talking about?” asked the boy innocently.

  “Same thing you are,” Charlie grinned.

  “I was referring to that handkerchief you took away from the picture director.”

  “So was I,” answered Charlie blandly.

  “Then you knew it was mine?”

  “I gathered that, yes. Small initial B was on it. Also I perceived you perspiring with no means to quench it. I was greatly moved to admiration by your restraint - not once did you make use of coat sleeve. You are going to tell me that it was taken from your pocket?”

  “It must have been - yes.”

  “At what moment?”

  “I don’t know, but I suppose some one took it when I was in swimming.”

  “You are sure of that?”

  “Well, it seems the only possible explanation. But I didn’t noti
ce it was gone until a long time afterward.”

  “And a still longer time after that - you mention the affair to me.”

  “It’s my confounded modesty again, Charlie,” the boy laughed. “I just couldn’t stand the limelight. Let me look at the thing, anyhow.”

  Charlie handed it over, and Bradshaw examined it carefully in the dashboard light. “Mine all right.” He pointed at the mark. “That’s my alias at the laundry. This is pretty sinister, if you ask me.”

  Charlie took back the handkerchief. “I have very good notion to put you in jail,” he remarked.

  “And trifle with the power of the press?” the boy reminded him. “Think twice, Charlie. I didn’t do away with our distinguished visitor. That’s not the sort of Hawaiian hospitality I go in for.” He hesitated. “I could use that handkerchief tonight.”

  “So could I,” Chan answered.

  “Oh, well, then I’ll just have to drip perspiration on this immortal story I’m about to write. So long, Inspector.”

  “So long,” Chan returned. “And please keep handkerchief out of that same story, and out of your conversation, or you will hear from me.”

  “O.K., Charlie. It stays a big secret. Nobody in on it but you and me - and the laundry.”

  Chapter XI

  MIDNIGHT IN HONOLULU

  Chan drove slowly on to Halekaua Hale, at the foot of Bethel Street, the home of the police. Parking his car, he ascended the worn stone steps. A light was burning in the detectives’ room, and going in, he encountered his Chief.

  “Hello, Charlie,” that gentleman said. “I’ve been waiting for you. Drove over to Kalaua tonight, or I’d have been with you down the beach. This is a pretty mix-up, isn’t it? Got anything yet?”

  Sadly Chan shook his head. He glanced at his watch. “The story has length,” he suggested.

  “Guess I’d better hear it, anyhow,” replied the Chief. In him, there was no lack of vigor. The ride in the moonlight to Kalaua had been restful and refreshing.

  Charlie sat down and began to talk, while his Chief listened intently. He took up first the scene of the murder, the absence of any weapon, the unsuccessful attempt of the murderer to fix the moment of the crime at two minutes past eight. Coming to the question of clues, he mentioned the loss of the diamond pin which had held the orchids.

 

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