Charlie Chan [5] Charlie Chan Carries On

by Earl Derr Biggers

  “Same old story,” Kennaway replied. “We’ve been gathered together to meet policemen at frequent intervals ever since the tour started. Well, you’re bringing a new face into it, and that’s something. I wish you luck, Inspector Chan.”

  “Thank you so much. I shall do my best. True, I am coming into the case through the back door. But I am encouraged when I remember old saying which remarks, the turtle that enters the house at the rear gate comes finally to the head of the table.”

  “Ah, yes - in the soup,” Kennaway reminded him.

  Chan laughed. “Ancient proverbs must not be taken too literally. Pardon me while I sample the cuisine of this vessel. At some later hour I shall sample your society more extensively.”

  He went to the dining saloon, where he was given a good table to himself. After a hearty breakfast, he rose to leave. In a seat near the door, he saw Doctor Lofton. He stopped.

  “Ah, Doctor,” he said. “Perhaps you do me the honor to recall my face?”

  Lofton glanced up. Few people could look at Charlie without a friendly smile, but the doctor managed it. In fact, his expression was a rather sour one.

  “Yes,” he said. “I remember you. A policeman, I believe?”

  “I am inspector of detectives, attached to Honolulu station,” Charlie explained. “May I sit down, please?”

  “I suppose so,” Lofton growled. “But don’t blame me if my feelings are none too cordial. I’m a bit fed up with detectives. Where is your friend Duff this morning?”

  Charlie raised his eyebrows. “You have not heard what happened to Inspector Duff?”

  “Of course not,” snapped Lofton. “I’ve got twelve people to look after, and I can assure you that they keep me busy. I can’t bother with every policeman who tags along. What’s happened to Duff? Come on, man - speak! Don’t tell me he’s been killed, too?”

  “Not entirely,” Chan answered gently. He told his story, his little black eyes fixed on Lofton’s face. He was amazed at the lack of shock or sympathy on that bearded countenance.

  “Well, that’s the end of Duff, as far as this tour is concerned,” the doctor remarked, when Chan had finished. “And now what?”

  “Now I replace poor Duff.”

  Lofton stared at him. “You!” he cried rudely.

  “Why not?” asked Charlie blandly.

  “Well, no reason, I suppose. You’ll pardon me, but my nerves have been completely upset by the events of the last few months. Thank God, we break up at San Francisco, and it’s a question in my mind if I ever go out again. I’ve been thinking of retiring, and this is as good a time as any.”

  “Whether you do or not is a private and personal matter,” Chan told him. “What is not so private is, what is name of the killer who has honored you with his presence on this journey? It is an affair I am here to look into, with full authority to do so. If you will get your party together in the lounge at ten o’clock, I shall launch the campaign.”

  Lofton glared at him. “How long, O Lord, how long?” he said.

  “I shall be brief as possible.”

  “You know what I mean. How long must I continue to gather my party together for these inquisitions? Nothing ever comes of them. Ever has, or ever will, if you ask me.”

  Charlie gave him a searching look. “And you would be sorry if anything did,” he ventured.

  Lofton returned the look. “Why should I try to deceive you? I am not longing for any final flare of publicity about this matter. That would mean the end of my touring days, and no mistake. An unpleasant end, too. No, what I want is a petering out of the whole business. You see, I intend to be frank with you.”

  “Quite refreshing, thank you,” bowed Charlie.

  “I’ll get the party together, of course. But further than that, if you look for any help from me, you’ll be looking in the wrong place.”

  “Looking in wrong place is always terrible waste of time,” Chan assured him.

  “I’m glad you realize that,” Lofton answered, and rising moved toward the door. Chan followed meekly at his heels.

  Going up to see the captain of the ship, Charlie encountered a more cordial greeting. That old sea-dog heard the story of the chase with mounting indignation.

  “All that I can say is, I hope you get your man,” he remarked at last. “I’ll give you every help possible. But remember this, Mr. Chan. A mistake would be a serious thing. If you came to me and asked me to have some one put under restraint, and he proved to be the wrong person, I’d be in a hell of a hole. The line would probably never hear the end of it - lawsuits and all that. We’ll have to be very sure what we are doing.”

  “Man who runs big ship like this should always be sure what he is doing,” Chan suggested mildly. “I promise to use every care.”

  “And I know you will,” smiled the captain. “I haven’t been on the Pacific run these past ten years without hearing about you. I have every confidence in you, but I couldn’t under the circumstances, fail to point out my position. If an arrest becomes necessary, let’s try to have it made on the San Francisco dock. That would avoid many complications.”

  “You call up pretty picture,” Chan remarked. “I hope it eventuates.”

  “So do I,” nodded the captain, “with all my heart.”

  Charlie went back to the promenade deck. He saw Kashimo flit by, resplendent in a new uniform which fitted him only in spots. Pamela Potter was sitting in a deck chair, and waved to him. He joined her.

  “Your friend Mrs. Luce is not yet about?” he inquired.

  “No - she sleeps late at sea, and has breakfast in her cabin. Did you want to speak with her right away?”

  “I wished talk with the two of you. But you alone suffice in a very pleasant manner. Last night I set you down on dock at about nine o’clock. Tell me - what members of travel party did you encounter between that hour and moment of retiring?”

  “We saw several of them. The stateroom was quite warm, so we went up and sat in steamer chairs near the top of the gangplank. The Minchins came aboard presently, and Sadie stopped to show us her day’s loot. A ukulele for that boy of hers at military school, among other things. Then Mark Kennaway came on, but he didn’t stop with us. He thought Mr. Tait might want him for the eternal bedtime story. Then the Benbows, Elmer all loaded down with exposed film. That was all, I guess. Mr. Kennaway came back to us in a few minutes. He said Mr. Tait didn’t seem to be aboard, and he appeared to think that rather surprising.”

  “Those were all. No man with a Malacca stick?”

  “Oh - Mr. Ross, you mean. Yes, he was one of the first, I think. He came limping aboard -“

  “Pardon me - at about what time?”

  “It must have been about nine-fifteen. He passed where we were sitting - I thought he was limping even more than usual. Mrs. Luce spoke to him, but oddly enough, he didn’t answer. He just hurried on down the deck.”

  “Can you tell me - is his the only Malacca stick in the party?”

  The girl laughed. “My dear Mr. Chan - we spent three days in Singapore, and if you don’t buy a Malacca stick there, they won’t let you leave. Every man in our party has one at least.”

  Charlie frowned. “Indeed? Then how can you be absolutely certain it was Mr. Ross who passed you?”

  “Well - this man was limping -“

  “Simplest thing in the world to imitate. Think hard. Was there no other way in which you could identify him?”

  The girl sat for a moment in silence. “How’s this?” she remarked at last. “Getting to be some little detective myself. The sticks that were bought in Singapore all had metal tips - I noticed that. But Mr. Ross’s stick has a heavy rubber tip on it. It makes no noise when he walks along the deck.”

  “And the stick of the man who passed you last night -“

  “It made no sound. So the man must have been Mr. Ross. Am I good? Just to show you how good I am, I’ll give you a demonstration. Here comes Mr. Ross now. Listen!”

  Ross had appeared in th
e distance, and was swinging along toward them. He passed with a nod and a smile, and disappeared around the corner. Chan and the girl looked at each other. For accompanying the lame man like a chant they had heard the steady “tap-tap-tap” of metal on the hard deck.

  “Well, of all things,” cried the girl.

  “Mr. Ross’s stick has lost its rubber tip,” Charlie said.

  She nodded. “What can that mean?”

  “A puzzle,” Chan answered. “And unless I am much mistaken, the first of many aboard this ship. Why should I worry? Puzzles are my business.”

  Chapter XVII

  THE GREAT EASTERN LABEL

  At a little before ten, Lofton appeared in front of the chair where Chan was sitting. He still had the air of a much-abused man.

  “Well, Inspector,” he announced, “I’ve got my people together in the smoking-room. I chose that spot because it’s always deserted at this hour. A bit odoriferous, perhaps - I trust you won’t hold them there long. I suggest you come at once. Keeping a touring party intact in one place for any length of time is, I have discovered, a difficult feat.”

  Chan rose. “Will you also come, Miss Pamela?” he suggested. As they walked along, he added to the doctor: “Am I to understand that all members of band are present?”

  “All except Mrs. Luce,” Lofton told him. “She prefers to sleep late. But I’ll have her roused, if you say so.”

  “Not at all,” Chan replied. “I know where Mrs. Luce was last evening. Matter of fact, she dined at my house.”

  “Not really?” cried the doctor, with unflattering surprise.

  “You would have been welcome yourself,” Charlie smiled.

  They entered the thick atmosphere of the smoking-room, redolent of old, unhappy, far-off things, and bottles, long ago. The group inside regarded Chan with frank curiosity. He stood for a moment, facing them. A little speech seemed indicated.

  “May I extend courteous good morning?” he began. “Would say I am as surprised to see you all again as you must be to behold me. I am reluctant to enforce my inspeakable presence upon you, but fate will not have it otherwise. Inspector Duff, as you know, was awaiting you at Honolulu, Paradise of Pacific, intending to travel eastward in your company. Last night in paradise history repeats and snake appears, striking down the worthy Duff. He is much better this morning, thank you. Maybe plenty soon he sees you all again. In meantime, a stupid substitute for Duff has been pushed into position for which he has not the brains, the wit, the reputation. Notably - myself.”

  He smiled pleasantly and sat down. “All mischief comes from opening the mouth,” he continued. “Knowing this, I am still forced to operate mine to considerable extent from now on. Let us make the best of it. My initial effort will be to find out from each of you exact presence between hour of - may I say - eight last evening, and sailing of boat at ten. Pardon such outrageous hint, but any of you who fails to speak true may have cause to regret same later on. I have said I am dull and stupid, and that is the fact, but often the gods go out of way to take care of such. To recompense, they shower on me sometimes amazing luck. Look out I don’t get shower at any moment.”

  Patrick Tait was on his feet. “My dear sir,” he remarked irritably, “I question your authority to interrogate any of us. We are no longer in Honolulu -“

  “Pardon interruption, but what you say is true,” Charlie put in. “Legal side of matter is no doubt such as to give eminent lawyer bad attack of choleric. I judge from records of case same has happened before. Can only say captain of ship stands behind me firm as Gibraltar rock. We proceed on assumption every one of you is shocked and grieved by attack on Duff, and eager to see the attacker captured. If this is wrong - if there is man among you has something to hide -“

  “Just a minute!” Tait cried. “I won’t let you maneuver me into that position. I’ve nothing to hide. I only wanted to remind you that there is such a thing as legal procedure.”

  “Which is usually the criminal’s best friend,” nodded Chan blandly. “You and I - we know. Do we not, Mr. Tait?” The lawyer sank back into his chair. “But we are some miles off the point,” continued Charlie. “You are all friends of justice, I feel certain. You have no interest in that poor relation of same, legal procedure. Let us go forward on such basis. Doctor Lofton, since you are conductor of party, I begin with you. How did you spend two hours mentioned by me?”

  “From eight to about nine-thirty,” said Lofton sourly, “I was at the Honolulu office of the Nomad Travel Company, which manages my tours for me. I had a lot of accounts to go over, and some typewriting to do.”

  “Ah, yes. Of course, others were with you at that office?”

  “Not a soul. The manager was due to attend a country club dance, and he left me there alone. Since the door had a spring lock, I had only to close it after me when I went out. I returned to the ship at about nine-thirty.”

  “Nomad Travel Company office is, I believe, on Fort Street? Only few steps from mouth of alley wandering along rear of police station.”

  “It’s on Fort Street, yes. I don’t know anything about your police station.”

  “Naturally you don’t. Did you encounter any members of travel party in neighborhood of alley?”

  “I have no idea what alley you’re talking about. I saw none of my people from the time I went to the office until I returned to the ship. I suggest you get on with this. Time is pressing.”

  “Whom is it pressing?” asked Chan suavely. “Speaking for myself, I have six days to squander. Mr. Tait, do you cling to legal rights, or will you condescend to tell humble policeman how you spent last evening?”

  “Oh, I’ve no objection,” returned Tait, amiable with an effort. “Why should I have? Last night, about eight o’clock, we started a contract bridge game in the lounge. Aside from myself, Mrs. Spicer, Mr. Vivian and Mr. Kennaway took part in it. It’s a foursome that has had many similar contests as we went round the world.”

  “Ah, yes - travel is fine education,” nodded Chan. “You played until the boat sailed.”

  “We did not. We were having a splendid game when, at about eight-thirty, Mr. Vivian raised the most unholy row -“

  “I beg your pardon,” Vivian cut in. “If I broke up the game, I had an excellent reason. You have heard me tell my partner a thousand times that if I make an original two bid, I expect her to keep it open, even if -“

  “So - you told me that a thousand times, did you?” flared Mrs. Spicer. “A million would be more like it. And I’ve explained patiently to you that if I had a flat hand, I wouldn’t bid - no, not even if Mr. Whitehead was sitting beside me with a gun. The trouble with you is, a little knowledge is a dangerous -“

  “Pardon me that I burst in,” Charlie said, “but the matter becomes too technical for my stupidity to cope with. Let us seize on fact that game broke up.”

  “Broke up in a row, at eight-thirty,” Tait continued. “Mr. Kennaway and I went out on to the deck. It was raining hard. Mark said he thought he’d get his rain-coat and take a stroll up to the town. I saw him leave about ten minutes later. I told him I preferred to stay aboard.”

  “And did you?” Charlie asked.

  “No, I didn’t. After Mr. Kennaway had gone, I remembered that I’d seen a copy of the New York Sunday Times hanging outside a news-stand on King Street yesterday morning. I’d meant to go back and get it. I hadn’t seen one for ages, and I was keen to have it. The rain seemed to be letting up a bit. So I got a coat my hat and stick -“

  “Your Malacca stick?”

  “Yes - I believe I carried the Malacca. At about ten minutes of nine I walked up-town, bought the paper, and returned to the ship. I’m a slow walker, and I suppose it was about twenty minutes past the hour when I came aboard again.”

  Chan took his watch from his left-hand vest pocket. “What time have you now, Mr. Tait?” he asked quickly.

  Tait’s right hand went to his own waistcoat pocket. Then it dropped back to his lap, and he looked rather fool
ish. He extended his left wrist, and examined the watch on it. “I make it ten-twenty-five,” he announced.

  “Correct,” smiled Charlie. “I make it the same, and I am always right.”

  Tait’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Always?” he repeated, with a touch of sarcasm.

  “In such matters - yes,” nodded the Chinese. For a moment he and the lawyer stared at each other. Then Chan looked away. “So many changes of time as you peruse way around world,” he said softly. “I merely wished to be certain your watch is up to date. Mr. Vivian, what was your course of action after bridge table eruption?”

  “I, too, went ashore,” Vivian responded. “I wanted to cool off.”

  “With hat, coat and Malacca stick, no doubt?” suggested Charlie.

  “We’ve all got Malacca sticks,” snapped the polo player. “They’re almost obligatory when you visit Singapore. I walked about the city, and got back to the ship a few minutes before it sailed.”

  “Mrs. Spicer?” Charlie’s eyes turned in her direction.

  She looked weary and fed-up.

  “I went to bed when I left the bridge table,” she told him. “It had been a somewhat trying experience. Bridge is only fun when you happen to have a gentleman for a partner.”

  “Mr. Kennaway, your actions have already been detailed by Mr. Tait.”

  Kennaway nodded. “Yes - I took my little stick and went ashore. I didn’t stay long, however. I thought Mr. Tait might want me to read to him, so I came back to the ship soon after nine. But Mr. Tait, to my surprise, wasn’t aboard. He appeared about nine-twenty, as he told you, and he had the Times under his arm. We went to our cabin, and I read to him from the paper until he fell asleep.”

  Charlie looked around the circle. “And this gentleman?”

  “Max Minchin, Chicago. And nothing to hide, get me?”

  Charlie bowed. “Then you will be glad to detail your actions?”