Charlie Chan [6] The Keeper of the Keys

by Earl Derr Biggers

  She had decided on a dramatic entrance, and such was the one she made, holding in her arms a small Boston terrier who looked world-weary and old. Dudley Ward awaited her at the foot of the stairs; she saw him and him alone.

  “Welcome home, Ellen,” he said.

  “Dudley,” she cried. “Dear old Dudley, after all these years. But” - she held aloft the dog - “but poor Trouble -“

  “Trouble?” repeated Ward, puzzled.

  “Yes - that’s his name - but you don’t know. You wouldn’t. From the baby in Madame Butterfly. My baby - my sweet poor baby - he’s having a chill. I knew I shouldn’t bring him - it’s bitter cold on the lake - it always was on this lake. Where’s Sing? Call Sing at once.” The old man appeared on the stairs behind her. “Oh, Sing - take Trouble to the kitchen and give him some hot milk. Make him drink it.”

  “My take ‘um,” replied Sing with a bored look.

  Landini followed him with many admonitions. A young girl in a smart dinner gown had come unostentiously down the stairs, and Ward was greeting her. He turned to the others.

  “This is Miss Leslie Beaton,” he said. “I’m sure we’re all happy to have her here -“

  But Landini was back in the room, overflowing personality and energy and charm. “Darling old Sing,” she cried. “The same as ever. I’ve thought of him so often. He was always -” She stopped suddenly as her eyes moved unbelievingly about the little group.

  Dudley Ward permitted himself a delighted smile. “I think, Ellen,” he said, “you already know these Gentlemen.”

  She wanted a moment, obviously, to get her breath and she found it when her glance fell on Charlie Chan. “Not - not all of them,” she said.

  “Oh, yes - pardon me,” Ward answered. “May I present Inspector Charlie Chan, of the Honolulu Police? On vacation, I should add.”

  Charlie stepped forward and bowed low over her hand. “Overcome,” he murmured.

  “Inspector Chan,” she said. “I’ve heard of you.”

  “It would be tarnishing the lily with gilt,” Charlie assured her, “to remark I have heard of you. Speaking further on the subject, I once, with great difficulty, heard you sing.”

  “With - great difficulty?”

  “Yes - you may recall. The night you stopped over for a concert in your home city, Honolulu. At the Royal Hawaiian Opera House - and they had but recently applied to it the new tin roof -“

  The great Landini clapped her hands and laughed. “And it rained!” she cried. “I should say I do remember! It was my only night - the boat was leaving at twelve - and so I sang - and sang. There in that boiler-factory - or so it seemed - with the downpour on the tin above. What a concert! But that was - some years - ago.”

  “I was impressed at the time by your extreme youthfulness,” Charlie remarked.

  She gave him a ravishing smile. “I shall sing again for you some day,” she said. “And it will not be raining then.”

  Her poise regained, sure of herself now, she turned to the odd party into which Dudley Ward had brought her. “What fun,” she cried. “What wonderful fun! All my dear ones gathered together. John - looking as stern as ever - Frederic - I miss the reflector on your forehead. I always think of you wearing that. And Luis - you here - of all people -“

  Mr. Romano stepped forward with his usual promptness. “Yes, you may bet I am here,” he replied, his eyes flashing. “I, of all people, and of all people I will be present at a good many places to which you travel in the future - unless your memory speedily improves. Must I recall to you an arrangement made in New York -“

  “Luis - not here!” She stamped her foot.

  “No, perhaps not here. But somewhere - soon - depend on that. Look at your shoes!”

  “What is wrong with my shoes?”

  “Wet! Soaking wet!” He turned hotly on young Beaton. “Are there, then, no rubbers in the world? Is the supply of arctics exhausted? I told you - you do not understand your job. You let her walk about in the snow in her evening slippers. What sort of husband is that for Ellen Landini -“

  “Oh, do be quiet, Luis,” Landini cried. “You were always so tiresome - a nurse. Do you think I want a nurse? I do not - and that is what I like about Hugh.” She stepped toward the boy, who appeared to draw back a bit. “Hugh is more interested in romance than in arctics - aren’t you, my dear?”

  She ran her fingers affectionately through the young man’s black hair, a theatrical gesture that was a bit upsetting to all who saw it. Dudley Ward, looking hastily away, caught on the face of Hugh Beaton’s sister an expression of such bitter disgust that he sought to divert the girl’s attention.

  “Your first visit west, Miss Beaton?” he inquired.

  “My very first,” she answered. “I love it, too. All except -“

  “Reno.”

  “Naturally - I don’t like that. The place sort of puts a blight on one’s outlook - don’t you think? What price romance - after seeing Reno?”

  “Pity you feel that way,” Ward said. He looked at her admiringly. Hugh Beaton’s sister was even prettier than he was. But there was a worried look about her brown eyes - the lips that should be always laughing were drawn and tired.

  “Dudley - it’s marvelous to be back here.” Landini was drawing him again into the general conversation. “It’s just as well you invited me, because I was coming anyway. Several times I’ve been on the point of descending on you.”

  “I should have been charmed,” Ward replied.

  “And surprised,” she laughed, “because I mean that literally - descending on you. You see, I’ve flown over you often, and seen that flying field you’ve had cleared behind the house.”

  “Oh, yes” Ward nodded. “So many of my friends have planes - and I like to fly a bit myself.”

  “My pilot told me he’d land any time,” Landini continued. “But somehow - the hour never seemed right - too late - too early - or we had to hurry back.”

  “You enjoy flying, I hear?” It was Doctor Swan who spoke, and there was an expression on his face that mingled malice and contempt.

  “Oh - I adore it! It’s the biggest thrill in the world. It’s living - at last. Especially here, above the snowcapped mountains, and these marvelous lakes. And I’ve found such a wonder of a pilot -“

  “So I’ve been told,” Swan answered. “But as I recall, you found him some years ago -“

  Landini walked quickly to where John Ryder was standing, as far apart from the others as he could get.

  “John,” she said, “I’m so happy to see you again. You’re looking well.”

  “Unfortunately,” Ryder said, “I’m looking better than I feel. Dudley, I’m afraid I shall have to be excused. Good night.” He bowed to the room in general, and went hastily up the stairs.

  Ellen Landini shrugged her generous shoulders and laughed. “Poor John,” she said. “Always he took life so seriously. What is to be gained by that? But we are what we are - we can not change -“

  “Ellen,” said Dudley Ward, “you enjoy seeing the old place again?”

  “I adore it,” she sparkled. “I’m simply wild with joy.”

  He looked at her in amazement - still sparkling, after all these years. Not since she came in had she let down for a minute. He thought back to the days of their marriage. It had been one of the things that had driven him mad. “Every day is Christmas with Landini,” he had once complained to himself.

  “Then perhaps you’d like to take a tour about,” Ward continued. “There are a few changes - I’d like to show them to you. If my guests will be so very good as to excuse me.”

  There was a polite murmur, and Dinsdale raised his glass. “These highballs of yours, Dudley, excuse anything,” he laughed.

  “Good,” smiled Ward. “Ellen, I want you to see the old study, I’ve just had it done over by a decorator. Probably all wrong. And as we can’t afford any scandal, I’m taking along a chaperon. Inspector Chan - will you join us?”

  “With great pleasure
,” smiled Charlie. “Everybody knows policeman always on hand when least needed.”

  Ellen Landini laughed with the others, but there was a deeply puzzled look in her blue eyes. Dinsdale came forward, looking at his watch.

  “Just to remind you, Ellen,” he said. “You’ll have to be starting soon if you’re to be back in Reno by midnight.”

  “What time is it, Jim?”

  “It’s twenty-five minutes to ten.”

  “I’m starting at ten, and I’ll be back in Reno before eleven.”

  He shook his head. “Not tonight - over these roads,” he said.

  “Tonight,” she laughed. “But not over these roads. Not for little Ellen.”

  Hugh Beaton looked up. “Ellen - what are you talking about?” he asked.

  She gave him a loving glance. “Now, be a good boy. You and Leslie go back by car from the Tavern. It’s a nasty old car, and you’re liable to have a few blowouts just as we did coming over, but that won’t matter to you. However, I must make better time. I had an inspiration when Dudley here called up and invited me to drop in on him. I telephoned to Reno for my favorite plane and pilot, and they’ll be here at ten. Won’t it be glorious? There’s a gorgeous moon - I’m simply thrilled to death.” She turned to Ward. “Michael told me you have lights on the field?”

  Ward nodded. “Yes. I’ll turn them on presently. Everything’s in order - that’s a grand idea of yours. But then - your ideas always were.”

  Romano, who had been talking violently with Hugh Beaton in a corner, rose quickly. “I will go to my room,” he announced, “and I will make for you a list. The things she must do, and the things she must not do. It will be useful -“

  “Oh, please don’t trouble,” Beaton protested.

  “It is my duty,” Romano said sternly.

  Ward stood aside, and let his guests precede him up the stairs. Romano walked close to Landini’s side, and as they came into the upper hall, he swung on her. “Where is my money?” he demanded.

  “Luis - I don’t know - oh, hasn’t it been sent?”

  “You know very well it has not been sent. How am I to live -“

  “But, Luis - there has been trouble - my investments - oh, please, please don’t bother me now.”

  “I suggest, Mr. Romano,” Ward said, “that you comply with Madame Landini’s wishes. This, I believe, is the door of your room.”

  “As you say,” shrugged Romano. “But, Ellen, I have not finished. There must be an understanding before we part.”

  He disappeared, and the three others went into the study in front. Ward flashed on the floor lamps, and Landini dropped into the chair beside the desk. Both men saw that her face was suddenly drawn and haggard, all the vivacity gone. Then she did let down at times. It was not always Christmas; it was sometimes the morning after.

  “Oh, the little beast,” she cried. “I hate him. Dudley, you can see what my life has been - lived in a whirlwind, excitement, madness, filled all the time with noisy nothings. I’m so tired - so deathly tired. If only I could find peace -“

  Charlie Chan saw that Ward’s face was filled with genuine tenderness and pity. “I know, my dear,” said the host, as he closed the door. “But peace was never for you - we knew that in the old days. It had to be the limelit highway - the bright parade. Come - pull yourself together.” He offered her one of the colored boxes on the desk. “Have a cigarette. Or perhaps you prefer this other brand.” He reached for the companion box.

  She took one from the latter, and lighted it. “Dudley,” she said, “coming here has taken me back to my girlhood. It has touched me deeply -” She looked toward Charlie Chan.

  A sudden harshness came into Ward’s eyes. “Sorry,” he said. “Mr. Chan stays. I was wondering why you accepted my invitation tonight. I see now - it was to pull this airplane stunt. The spectacular thing - the thing you would do. Has it occurred to you to wonder - why I invited you?”

  “Why - I thought, of course - after all, you did love me once. I thought you would like to see me again. But when I saw John, and Frederic, and Luis - I was puzzled -“

  “Naturally. I invited you, Ellen, because I wanted you to realize that I am in touch with your various husbands. I wanted you, also, to meet Inspector Charlie Chan who, as you know, is a detective. Inspector Chan and I have begun tonight an investigation which may take us many weeks - or which may end here and now. You have it in your power to end it. Ellen, I have no bitterness, no ill will for you at this late day. I have thought it over so long - perhaps I was wrong from the first. But I have brought you to Pineview to ask you, simply - where is my son?”

  Charlie Chan, watching, reflected that here was either a great actress or a much maligned woman. Her expression did not change. “What son?” she asked.

  Ward shrugged his shoulders. “Very well,” he said. “We won’t go any further with it.”

  “Oh, yes, we will,” said Ellen Landini. “Dudley - don’t be a fool. Some one has told you a lie, evidently. Don’t you know they’ve been Iying about me for years? I’ve got so I don’t mind - but if you’ve heard something that’s made you unhappy - that’s sending you off on a wild-goose chase - well, I’d like to stop that, if I can. If you’ll only tell me -“

  “No matter,” said Ward. “What’s the use?”

  “If you take that tone,” she replied, “it’s hopeless.” She was surprisingly cool and calm. “By the way - hadn’t you better turn on the lights on the field? And I should like a small blanket for Trouble - he’ll need it, in addition to the robes in the plane. I’ll send it back to you. He’ll go with me, of course. He loves it.”

  “Very well,” nodded Ward. “I’ll see about it, and then I’ll get down to those lights.” He went to the door. “Cecile,” he called. “Oh, Sing - send Cecile to me, please.”

  He stepped back into the room. “Cecile?” said Ellen Landini.

  “Yes,” Ward said. “An old servant of yours, I believe. The wife of your wonder pilot. You didn’t know she was here?”

  Landini lighted another cigarette. “I did not. But I might have guessed it these last few minutes. A liar Dudley, always, with a temper like the devil. She stole from me, too, but naturally, one expects that. But the truth was not in her. I don’t know what cock-and-bull story she has told you, but whatever it is -“

  “What makes you think it was she who told me?”

  “I have discovered that a lie has been told in this house, Dudley, and now I discover Cecile is here. It’s effect and cause, my dear.”

  “You wanted me, sir?” The Frenchwoman at the door was about thirty, with lovely eyes, but an unhappy and discontented face. For a long moment she stared at Landini. “Ah, Madame,” she murmured.

  “How are you, Cecile?” the singer asked.

  “I am well, thank you.” She turned to Ward, inquiringly.

  “Cecile,” said her employer, “please go and get Madame Landini a small blanket of some sort - something suitable to wrap about a dog.”

  “A dog?” The eyes of the Frenchwoman narrowed. There was a moment’s silence, and in the quiet they all heard, suddenly, a far-off but unmistakable sound - the droning of an airplane. Ward flung open the French windows that led on to a balcony, which was in reality the roof of the front veranda. The others crowded about him, and in the moonlit sky, far out over the lake, they saw the approaching plane.

  “Ah, yes,” cried Cecile, “I understand. Madame returns to Reno by air.”

  “Is that any affair of yours?” Landini asked coldly.

  “It happens to be, Madame,” the woman answered.

  “Will you get that blanket?” Ward demanded.

  Without a word, the Frenchwoman went out. Ward looked at his watch.

  “Your pilot’s ahead of time,” he said. “I must hurry out to those lights -“

  “Dudley - would you do something -” Landini cried.

  “Too late. When the plane has landed -“

  He hastened out. The singer turned to Charlie.<
br />
  “Tell me,” she said. “Do you know which is Mr. Ryder’s room?”

  Charlie bowed. “I think I do.”

  “Then please go to him. Send him here at once. Tell him I must see him - he must come - don’t take no for an answer! Tell him - it’s life and death!”

  She fairly pushed the detective from the room. He hurried down the hall and knocked on the door of the room into which he had seen Ryder ushered before dinner. Without awaiting an answer, he opened it and entered. Ryder was seated reading a book beside a floor lamp.

  “So sorry,” Charlie remarked. “The intrusion is objectionable, I realize. But Madame Landini -“

  “What about Madame Landini?” asked Ryder grimly.

  “She must see you at once - in the study at the front. She demands this wildly. It is, she tells me life and death.”

  Ryder shrugged. “Rot! There is nothing to be said between us. She knows that.”

  “But -“

  “Yes - life and death - I know. Don’t be fooled by her theatrics. She was always that way. Kindly tell her I refuse to see her.”

  Chan hesitated. Ryder got up and led him to the door. “Tell her that under no circumstances will I ever see her again.”

  Charlie found himself in the hall, with Ryder’s door closed behind him. When he got back to the study Landini was seated at the desk, writing madly.

  “I am so sorry -” the detective began.

  She looked up. “He won’t see me? I expected it. No matter, Mr. Chan. I have thought of another way. Thanks.”

  Chan turned, and went down the hall toward the head of the stairs. As he passed the open door of Romano’s room, he saw the conductor walking anxiously up and down. Ryder’s door remained closed. The noise of the plane was momentarily growing louder.

  In the living-room Dinsdale and Hugh Beaton were alone, evidently vastly uninterested in the spectacular approach of Landini’s pilot. Charlie was not so callous and stepping out the front door, he crossed the porch and walked a short distance down the path to the pier. He was staring up at the lights of the plane, when some one approached from the direction of the water. It was Doctor Swan.

  “Went out on the pier to see it better,” Swan said. “A beautiful sight, on a night like this. Wish I could go back in it myself.” The aviator was turning in toward the house.