"Of course," answered Madden. "Fire away. I'm sorry, but I can't tell you a thing. I was in my room when my secretary" -- he indicated Thorn -- "came in and said that Mr. Eden here had just driven into the yard with the dead body of Louie in the car."
The constable turned with interest to Eden. "Where'd you find him?" he inquired.
"He was perfectly all right when I picked him up," Eden explained. He launched into his story -- the meeting with Louie at the Oasis, the ride across the desert, the stop at the gate, and finally the gruesome discovery in the yard. The constable shook his head.
"All sounds mighty mysterious to me," he admitted. "You say you think he was killed while you was openin' the gate. What makes you think so?"
"He was talking practically all the way out here," Eden replied. "Muttering to himself there in the back seat. I heard him when I got out to unfasten the gate."
"What was he sayin'?"
"He was talking in Chinese. I'm sorry, but I'm no sinologue."
"I ain't accused you of anything, have I?"
"A sinologue is a man who understands the Chinese language," Bob Eden smiled.
"Oh." The constable scratched his head. "This here secretary, now --"
Thorn came forward. He had been in his room, he said, when he heard a disturbance in the yard, and went outside. Absolutely nothing to offer. Bob Eden's glance fell on the tear across the back of Thorn's coat. He looked at Charlie Chan, but the detective shook his head. Say nothing, his eyes directed.
The constable turned to Madden. "Who else is on the place?" he wanted to know.
"Nobody but Ah Kim here. He's all right."
The officer shook his head. "Can't always tell," he averred. "All these tong wars, you know." He raised his voice to a terrific bellow. "Come here, you," he cried.
Ah Kim, lately Detective-Sergeant Chan of the Honolulu Police, came with expressionless face and stood before the constable. How often he had played the opposite role in such a scene -- played it far better than this mainland officer ever would.
"Ever see this Louie Wong before?" thundered the constable.
"Me, boss? No, boss, I no see 'um."
"New round here, ain't you?"
"Come las' Fliday, boss."
"Where did you work before this?"
"All place, boss. Big town, litta town."
"I mean where'd you work last?"
"Lailload, I think, boss. Santa Fe lailload. Lay sticks on ground."
"Ah -- er -- well, doggone." The constable had run out of questions. "Ain't had much practice at this sort of thing," he apologized. "Been so busy confiscatin' licker these last few years I sort of lost the knack for police work. This is sheriff's stuff. I called him before we come out, an' he's sendin' Captain Bliss of the Homicide Squad down tomorrow mornin'. So we won't bother you no more tonight, Mr. Madden."
The coroner came forward. "We'll take the body in town, Mr. Madden," he said. "I'll have the inquest in there, but I may want to bring my jurors out here sometime tomorrow."
"Oh, sure," replied Madden. "Just attend to anything that comes up, and send all the bills to me. Believe me, I'm sorry this thing has happened."
"So am I," said the constable. "Louie was a good old scout."
"Yes -- and -- well, I don't like it. It's annoying."
"All mighty mysterious to me," the constable admitted again. "My wife told me I never ought to take this job. Well, so long, Mr. Madden -- great pleasure to meet a man like you."
When Bob Eden retired to his room, Madden and Thorn were facing each other on the hearth. Something in the expression of each made him wish he could overhear the scene about to be enacted in that room.
Ah Kim was waiting beside a crackling fire. "I make 'um burn, boss," he said. Eden closed the door and sank into a chair.
"Charlie, in heaven's name, what's going on here?" he inquired helplessly.
Chan shrugged. "Plenty goes on," he said. "Two nights now gone since in this room I hint to you Chinese are psychic people. On your face then I see well-bred sneer."
"I apologize," Eden returned. "No sneering after this, even the well-bred kind. But I'm certainly stumped. This thing tonight --"
"Most unfortunate, this thing tonight," said Chan thoughtfully. "Humbly suggest you be very careful, or everything spoils. Local police come thumping on to scene, not dreaming in their slight brains that murder of Louie are of no importance in the least."
"Not important, you say?"
"No, indeed, Not when compared to other matters."
"Well, it was pretty important to Louie, I guess," said Eden.
"Guess so, too. But murder of Louie just like death of parrot -- one more dark deed covering up very black deed occurring here before we arrive on mysterious scene. Before parrot go, before Louie make unexpected exit, unknown person dies screaming unanswered cries for help. Who? Maybe in time we learn."
"Then you think Louie was killed because he knew too much?"
"Just like Tony, yes. Poor Louie very foolish, does not stay in San Francisco when summoned there. Comes with sad blunder back to desert. Most bitterly unwelcome here. One thing puzzles me."
"Only one thing?" asked Eden.
"One at present. Other puzzles put aside for moment. Louie goes on Wednesday morning, probably before black deed was done. How then does he know? Did act have echo in San Francisco? I am most sad not to have talk with him. But there are other paths to follow."
"I hope so," sighed Bob Eden. "But I don't see them. This is too much for me."
"Plenty for me, too," agreed Chan. "Pretty quick I go home, lifelong yearning for travel forever quenched. Keep in mind, much better police do not find who killed Louie Wong. If they do, our fruit may be picked when not yet ripe. We should handle case. Officers of law must be encouraged off of ranch at earliest possible time, having found nothing."
"Well, the constable was easy enough," smiled Eden.
"All looked plenty mysterious to him," answered Chan, smiling, too.
"I sympathized with him in that," Eden admitted. "But this Captain Bliss probably won't be so simple. You watch your step, Charlie, or they'll lock you up."
Chan nodded. "New experiences crowd close on this mainland," he said. "Detective-Sergeant Chan a murder suspect. Maybe I laugh at that, when I get home again. Just now, laugh won't come. A warm good night --"
"Wait a minute," interrupted Eden. "How about Tuesday afternoon? Madden's expecting the messenger with the pearls then, and somehow, I haven't a stall left in me."
Chan shrugged. "Two days yet. Stop the worry. Much may manage to occur before Tuesday afternoon." He went out softly.
Just as they finished breakfast on Monday morning, a knock sounded on the door of the ranch house, and Thorn admitted Will Holley.
"Oh," said Madden sourly. His manner had not improved overnight. "So you're here again."
"Naturally," replied Holley. "Being a good newspaper man, I'm not overlooking the first murder we've had round here in years." He handed a newspaper to the millionaire. "By the way, here's a Los Angeles morning paper. Our interview is on the front page."
Madden took it without much interest. Over his shoulder Bob Eden caught a glimpse of the headlines:
ERA OF PROSPERITY DUE, SAYS FAMED MAGNATE
P.J. Madden, Interviewed on Desert Ranch, Predicts Business Boom
Madden glanced idly through the story. When he had finished, he said: "In the New York papers, I suppose?"
"Of course," Holley answered. "All over the country this morning. You and I are famous, Mr. Madden. But what's this about poor old Louie?"
"Don't ask me," frowned Madden. "Some fool bumped him off. Your friend Eden can tell you more than I can." He got up and strode from the room.
Eden and Holley stared at each other for a moment, then went together into the yard.
"Pretty raw stuff," remarked Holley. "It makes me hot. Louie was a kindly old soul. Killed in the car, I understand."
Eden related what had happened. They moved farther
away from the house.
"Well, who do you think?" Holley inquired.
"I think Thorn," Eden answered. "However, Charlie says Louie's passing was just a minor incident, and it will be better all round if his murderer isn't found just at present. Of course he's right."
"Of course he is. And there isn't much danger they'll catch the guilty man, at that. The constable is a helpless old fellow."
"How about this Captain Bliss?"
"Oh, he's a big noisy bluff with a fatal facility for getting the wrong man. The sheriff's a regular fellow, with brains, but he may not come round. Let's stroll out and look over the ground where you left the car last night. I've got something to slip you, a telegram -- from your father, I imagine."
As they went through the gate, the telegram changed hands. Holding it so it could not be seen from the house, Bob Eden read it through.
"Well, dad says he's going to put up the bluff to Madden that's he's sending Draycott with the pearls tonight."
"Draycott?" asked Holley.
"He's a private detective dad uses in San Francisco. As good a name as any, I suppose. When Draycott fails to arrive, dad's going to be very much upset." The boy considered for a moment. "I guess it's about the best he can do -- but I hate all this deception. And I certainly don't like the job of keeping Madden cool. However, something may happen before then."
They examined the ground where Bob Eden had halted the car while he opened the gate the night before. The tracks of many cars passing in the road were evident -- but no sign of any footsteps. "Even my footprints are gone," remarked Eden. "Do you suppose it was the wind, drifting the sand --"
Holley shrugged. "No," he said. "It was not. Somebody has been out here with a broom, my boy, and obliterated every trace of footsteps about that car."
Eden nodded. "You're right. Somebody -- but who? Our old friend Thorn, of course."
They stepped aside as an automobile swung by them and entered Madden's yard.
"There's Bliss, now, with the constable," Holley remarked. "Well, they get no help from us, eh?"
"Not a bit," replied Eden. "Encourage them off the ranch at earliest possible moment. That's Charlie's suggestion."
They returned to the yard and waited. Inside the living-room they heard Thorn and Madden talking with the two officers. After a time, Bliss came out, followed by the millionaire and Constable Brackett. He greeted Holley as an old friend, and the editor introduced Bob Eden.
"Oh, yes, Mr. Eden," said the captain. "Want to talk to you. What's your version of this funny business?"
Bob Eden looked at him with distaste. He was a big, flat-footed policeman of the usual type, and no great intelligence shone in his eyes. The boy gave him a carefully edited story of the night before.
"Humph," said Bliss. "Sounds queer to me."
"Yes?" smiled Eden. "To me, too. But it happens to be the truth."
"Well, I'll have a look at the ground out there," remarked Bliss.
"You'll find nothing," said Holley. "Except the footprints of this young man and myself. We've just been taking a squint around."
"Oh, you have, have you?" replied Bliss grimly. He strode through the gate, the constable tagging after him. After a perfunctory examination the two returned.
"This is sure some puzzle," said Constable Brackett.
"Is that so?" Bliss sneered. "Well, get on to yourself. How about this Chink, Ah Kim? Had a good job here, didn't he? Louie Wong comes back. What does that mean? Ah Kim loses his job."
"Nonsense," protested Madden.
"Think so, do you?" remarked Bliss. "Well, I don't. I tell you I know these Chinks. They think nothing of sticking knives in each other. Nothing at all." Ah Kim emerged from around the side of the house. "Hey, you," cried Captain Bliss. Bob Eden began to worry.
Ah Kim came up. "You want'um me, boss?"
"You bet I want you. Going to lock you up."
"Why foah, boss?"
"For knifing Louie Wong. You can't get away with that stuff round here."
The Chinese regarded this crude practitioner of his own arts with a lifeless eye. "You crazy, boss," he said.
"Is that so?" Bliss's face hardened. "I'll show you just how crazy I am. Better tell me the whole story now. It'll go a lot easier with you if you do."
"What stoahy, boss?"
"How you sneaked out and put a knife in Louie last night."
"Maybe you catch 'um knife, hey, boss?" asked Ah Kim, maliciously.
"Never mind about that!"
"Poah old Ah Kim's fingah prints on knife, hey, boss?"
"Oh, shut up," said Bliss.
"Maybe you takee look-see, find velvet slippah prints in sand, hey, boss?" Bliss glared at him in silence. "What I tell you -- you crazy cop, hey, boss?"
Holley and Eden looked at each other with keen enjoyment. Madden broke in, "Oh, come now, Captain, you haven't got a thing against him, and you know it. You take my cook away from me without any evidence, and I'll make you sweat for it."
"Well -- I --" Bliss hesitated. "I know he did it, and I'll prove it later." His eyes lighted. "How'd you get into this country?" he demanded.
"Melican citizen, boss. Boahn San Flancisco. Foahty-flive yeah old now."
"Born here, eh? Is that so? Then you've got your chock-gee, I suppose. Let me see it."
Bob Eden's heart sank to his boots. Though many Chinese were without chock-gees, he knew that the lack of one would be sufficient excuse for this stupid policeman to arrest Chan at once. Another moment, and they'd all be done for --
"Come on," bellowed Bliss.
"What you say, boss?" parried Ah Kim.
"You know what I said. Your chock-gee -- certificate -- hand it over or by heaven I'll lock you up so quick --"
"Oh, boss -- ce'tiflicate -- allight, boss." And before Eden's startled gaze the Chinese took from his blouse a worn slip of paper about the size of a bank note, and handed it to Bliss.
The Captain read it sourly and handed it back. "All right -- but I ain't through with you yet," he said.
"Thanks, boss," returned Ah Kim, brightening. "You plenty crazy, boss. Thasaw. Goo'by." And he shuffled away.
"I told you it looked terrible mysterious to me," commented the constable.
"Oh, for Pete's sake, shut up," cried Bliss. "Mr. Madden, I'll have to admit I'm stumped for the time being. But that condition don't last long with me. I'll get to the bottom of this yet. You'll see me again."
"Run out any time," Madden invited with deep insincerity. "If I happen on anything, I'll call Constable Brackett."
Bliss and the constable got into their car and rode away. Madden returned to the house.
"Oh, excellent Chan," said Will Holley softly. "Where in Sam Hill did he get that chock-gee?"
"It looked as though we were done for," Eden admitted. "But good old Charlie thinks of everything."
Holley climbed into his car. "Well, I guess Madden isn't going to invite me to lunch. I'll go along. You know, I'm keener than ever to get the answer to this puzzle. Louie was my friend. It's a rotten shame."
"I don't know where we're going, but we're on our way," Eden answered. "I'd feel pretty helpless if I didn't have Charlie with me."
"Oh, you've got a few brains, too." Holley assured him.
"You're crazy, boss," Eden laughed, as the editor drove away.
Returning to his room, he found Ah Kim calmly making the bed.
"Charlie, you're a peach," said the boy, closing the door. "I thought we were sunk without warning. Whose chock-gee did you have, anyhow?"
"Ah Kim's chock-gee, to be sure," smiled Chan.
"Who's Ah Kim?"
"Ah Kim humble vegetable merchant who drive me amidst other garden truck from Barstow to Eldorado. I make simple arrangement to rent chock-gee short while. Happy to note long wear in pockets make photograph look like image of anybody. Came to me in bright flash Madden might ask for identification certificate before engaging me for honorable tasks. Madden did not do so, but thing fit in p
lenty neat all the same."
"It certainly did," Eden agreed. "You're a brick to do all this for the Jordans -- and for dad. I hope they pay you handsomely."
Chan shook his head. "What you say in car riding to ferry? Postman on holiday itches to try long stretch of road. All this sincere pleasure for me. When I untie knots and find answer that will be fine reward." He bowed and departed.
The Chinese Parrot Page 14
