The Greatest Works of Earl Derr Biggers (Illustrated Edition). Earl Derr Biggers
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what?" asked the girl quickly.
"Unless Sir Frederic had removed same to safe and distant place. On face of things, he expected marauder. He may have baited trap with pointless paper. You have hunted his personal effects, in bedroom?"
"Everything," Kirk assured him. "Nothing was found. In the desk down-stairs were some newspaper clippings—accounts of the disappearance of other women who walked off into the night. Sir Frederic evidently made such cases his hobby."
"Other women?" Chan was thoughtful.
"Yes. But Flannery thought those clippings meant nothing, and I believe he was right."
"And the cutting about Eve Durand remained in Sir Frederic's purse?" continued Chan.
"By gad!" Kirk looked at the girl. "I never thought of that. The clipping was gone!"
Miss Morrow's dark eyes were filled with dismay. "Oh—how stupid," she cried. "It was gone, and the fact made no impression on me at all. I'm afraid I'm just a poor, weak woman."
"Calm your distress," said Chan soothingly. "It is a matter to note, that is all. It proves that the quest of Eve Durand held important place in murderer's mind. You must, then, cherchez la femme. You understand?"
"Hunt the woman," said Miss Morrow.
"You have it. And in such an event, a huntress will be far better than a hunter. Let us think of guests at party. Mr. Kirk, you have said a portion of these people are there because Sir Frederic requested their presence. Which?"
"The Enderbys," replied Kirk promptly. "I didn't know them. But Sir Frederic wanted them to come."
"That has deep interest. The Enderbys. Mrs. Enderby approached state of hysteria all evening. Fear of dark might mean fear of something else. Is it beyond belief that Eve Durand, with new name, marries again into bigamy?"
"But Eve Durand was a blonde," Miss Morrow reminded him.
"Ah, yes. And Eileen Enderby has hair like night. It is, I am told, a matter that is easily arranged. Color of hair may be altered, but color of eyes—that is different. And Mrs. Enderby's eyes are blue, matching oddly raven locks."
"Never miss a trick, do you?" smiled Kirk.
"Mrs. Enderby goes to garden, sees man on fire-escape. So she informs us. But does she? Or does she know her husband, smoking cigarette on stairs, has not been so idly occupied? Is man on fire-escape a myth of her invention, to protect her husband? Why are stains on her gown? From leaning with too much hot excitement against garden rail, damp with the fog of night? Or from climbing herself onto fire-escape—you apprehend my drift? What other guests did Sir Frederic request?"
Kirk thought. "He asked me to invite Gloria Garland," the young man announced.
Chan nodded. "I expected it. Gloria Garland—such is not a name likely to fall to human lot. Sounds like a manufacture. And Australia is so placed on map it might be appropriate end of journey from Peshawar. Blonde, blue-eyed, she breaks necklace on the stair. Yet you discover a pearl beneath the office desk."
Miss Morrow nodded. "Yes—Miss Garland certainly is a possibility."
"There remains," continued Chan, "Mrs. Tupper-Brock. A somewhat dark lady —but who knows? Sir Frederic did not ask her presence?"
"No—I don't think he knew she existed," said Kirk.
"Yes? But it is wise in our work, Miss Morrow, that even the smallest improbabilities be studied. Men stumble over pebbles, never over mountains. Tell me, Mr. Kirk—was Colonel John Beetham the idea of Sir Frederic, too?"
"Not at all. And now that I remember, Sir Frederic seemed a bit taken aback when he heard Beetham was coming. But he said nothing."
"We have now traversed the ground. You have, Miss Morrow, three ladies to receive your most attentive study—Mrs. Enderby, Miss Garland, Mrs. Tupper-Brock. All of proper age, so near as a humble man can guess it in this day of beauty rooms with their appalling tricks. These only of the dinner party—"
"And one outside the dinner party," added the girl, to Chan's surprise.
"Ah—on that point I have only ignorance," he said blankly.
"You remember the elevator operator spoke of a girl employed by the Calcutta Importers, on the twentieth floor? A Miss Lila Barr. She was at work in her office there last night."
"Ah, yes," nodded Chan.
"Well, a newspaper man, Rankin of the Globe, came to see me a few minutes ago. He said that the other evening—night before last—he went to call on Sir Frederic in Mr. Kirk's office, rather late. Just as he approached the door, a girl came out. She was crying. Rankin saw her dab at her eyes and disappear into the room of the Calcutta Importers. A blonde girl, he said."
Chan's face was grave. "A fourth lady to require your kind attention. The matter broadens. So much to be done—and you in the midst of it all, like a pearl in a muddy pool." He stood up. "I am sorry. But the Maui must even now be straining at her moorings—"
"One other thing," put in the girl. "You made quite a point of that Cosmopolitan Club year-book lying beside Sir Frederic. You thought it important?"
Chan shrugged. "I fear I was in teasing mood. I believed it hardest puzzle of the lot. Therefore I am mean enough to press it on Captain Flannery's mind. What it meant, I can not guess. Poor Captain Flannery will never do so."
He looked at his watch. The girl rose. "I won't keep you longer," she sighed. "I'm very busy, but somehow I can't let you go. I'm trailing along to the dock with you, if you don't mind. Perhaps I'll think of something else on the way."
"Who am I," smiled Chan, "to win such overwhelming honor? You behold me speechless with delight, Mr. Kirk."
"Oh, I'm going along," said Kirk. "Always like to see a boat pull out. The Lord meant me for a traveling salesman."
Chan got his bag, paid his bill, and the three of them entered Kirk's car, parked round the corner.
"Now that the moment arrives," said Chan, "I withdrew from this teeming mainland with some regret. Fates have been in smiling mood with me here."
"Why go?" suggested Kirk.
"Long experience," replied Chan, "whispers not to strain fates too far. Their smile might fade."
"Want to stop anywhere on the way?" Kirk asked. "You've got thirty minutes until sailing time."
"I am grateful, but all my farewells are said. Only this morning I have visited Chinatown—" He stopped. "So fortunate you still hang on," he added to the girl. "I was forgetting most important information for you. Still another path down which you must travel."
"Oh, dear," she sighed. "I'm dizzy now. What next?"
"You must at once inflict this information on Captain Flannery. He is to find a Chinese, a stranger here, stopping with relatives on Jackson Street. The name, Li Gung."
"Who is Li Gung?" asked Miss Morrow.
"Yesterday, when delicious lunch was ended, I hear of Li Gung from Sir Frederic." He repeated his conversation with the great man. "Li Gung had information much wanted by Sir Frederic. That alone I can say. Captain Flannery must extract this information from Li!"
"He'll never get it," replied the girl pessimistically. "Now you, Sergeant—"
Chan drew a deep breath. "I am quite overcome," he remarked, "by the bright loveliness of this morning on which I say farewell to the mainland."
They rode on in silence, while the girl thought hard. If only she could find some way of reaching this stolid man by her side, some appeal that would not roll off like water from a duck's back. She hastily went over in her mind all she had ever read of the Chinese character.
Kirk drove his smart roadster onto the pier, a few feet from the Maui's gang-plank. The big white ship was gay with the color of women's hats and frocks. Taxis were sweeping up, travelers were alighting, white-jacketed stewards stood