The Mandarin's Fan
"Might be. He wasn't at the ball anyhow. Tung-yu was."
"But Tung-yu--as I understand from Miss Pewsey--intended to call the
next day--to-day that is--and buy the fan for five thousand."
"Huh," Clarence heaved up his shoulder again, "perhaps he thought he'd
settle in another way. 'Day. I'll be along here whenever you like to
call. I wish to see this biznai through, you bet."
Rodgers departed, and sought out Rupert at Royabay. The young man was
walking up and down the terrace smoking furiously. At the sight of the
stranger he frowned and Rodgers noted that he looked worn and ill.
"Might be money worries," thought the detective, "and it might be the
other thing."
However, he kept these thoughts to himself and merely detailed what he
had learned from Miss Pewsey and set forth the accusation she brought
against him. Ainsleigh heard the detective quietly enough, and smiled
wearily when the explanation was concluded. "Miss Pewsey doesn't love
me," he said quietly, "and would like to see me out of the way, so that
Miss Rayner could marry her nephew."
"I see," nodded Rodgers, "Miss Rayner will have the dead lady's money,
and the nephew is poor."
"I really don't know," replied Rupert coldly, "Mr. Burgh is a mystery to
me. He comes from nowhere, though I believe he has been in China."
"And knows what about the fan?"
"I think so. At all events, young Walker declares that Burgh was talking
to a Chinaman near the Mansion House. Burgh admits this, and also admits
that the Chinaman was Hwei, who put in that advertisement.
"I'm inclined to suspect Hwei himself," said Rodgers looking keenly at
the worn face of the young man, "but this silk tie----"
"It is mine, Mr. Rodgers. Miss Rayner gave it to me last night."
"So Miss Pewsey says--on the balcony."
"Quite so. Miss Pewsey was spying and saw the tie given. As the colours
are rather pronounced, she could easily identify it. I took it to the
cloak-room and placed it in the pocket of my overcoat."
"And took it out again?"
"No." Rupert rose and grew crimson, "surely you are not so unjust as to
believe Miss Pewsey's malignant tale."
"You may be sure, Mr. Ainsleigh, that I'll act fairly towards you," said
the detective dryly, "but the tie having been used to strangle--"
"I don't know how it came round her throat," interrupted Ainsleigh
imperiously, "I placed the tie in my overcoat pocket--that was the last
I saw of it, until I noticed it on Miss Wharf's dead body."
"Did anyone else see the tie?"
"Yes, Major Tidman."
"Who is he?"
"A retired Army man--South American Army--who stops at Bristol Hotel. He
is much respected here. I went to the cloak-room, and found him talking
to Tung-yu. Both saw me place the tie in my coat."
Rodgers sat up. "Oh," said he opening his eyes widely, "then Tung-yu saw
you place the tie in the coat."
"He did, but if you suspect he took it out again, I think you are wrong.
He left the room and I exchanged a few words with Major Tidman."
"What about?"
"About this fan. Major Tidman told me to leave it alone. But of course I
never intended to meddle with it. Miss Wharf had it, and she hated me
too much to let me handle it, though she did give me the chance of
making the money," said Rupert, with an after thought.
"Eh, how was that?"
"She offered to let me have the fan if I gave up my claim to Miss
Rayner, whom she desired should marry Mr. Burgh, I refused."
"Humph," said Rodgers again, "and how does Major Tidman come to know
about the fan?"
"I refer you to him for an answer."
"And how did he come to know Tung-yu?"
"I believe he met him in Canton," replied Rupert restlessly, "he had
some adventure there--?"
"Connected with this ubiquitous fan?" asked Rodgers sharply.
"Yes. He promised to tell me the adventure to-day, but I had not seen
him yet."
"Humph. He may come after all. I'll call on this gentleman. At the
Bristol you say. Quite so," Rodgers took a note. "Now then Mr.
Ainsleigh, tell me how you came to go up about the advertisement?"
Rupert related his father's dealings with Lo-Keong, and referred to the
secret said to be connected with the fan. The detective heard him in
silence, and appeared to be struck by his frankness. "I think it's one
of the most complicated cases I ever had to do with, Mr. Ainsleigh, and
will take a lot of searching into."
"I hope you don't suspect me?"
"Humph, the tie is, strangely enough, the rope used to strangle this
woman, and you admit that it is yours. But Tung-yu saw you put it in
your overcoat pocket, and he wanted the fan--"
"For five thousand pounds remember. Hwei was the one who threatened to
gain the fan, by killing."
"Don't defend Tung-yu too much," said the detective dryly, "your
position is not a pleasant one and--"
"Do you mean to arrest me?" asked Rupert rising angrily.
"Not at present. But no doubt at the inquest you can prove an alibi."
Rupert turned away, "I can't," he said in a low voice, "I was walking
outside smoking between eleven and twelve--on the beach."
"That's a pity, Mr. Ainsleigh, I may have to arrest you after all. But
who is this gentleman. Major Tidman!--quite so. Good-day Major."
CHAPTER XI
THE CANTON ADVENTURE
Major Tidman who was standing at the foot of the terrace stared at the
man before him. "How do you know my name?" he asked, and looked towards
Rupert for a reply.
Mr. Rodgers produced a red silk handkerchief and wiped his face for it
was noon and very warm. "A guess on my part," he answered, "Mr.
Ainsleigh said you might come here, to tell him of your Canton
adventure, and I fancied it might be you, Major Tidman."
"I am not aware," said the Major loftily, "why you should interest
yourself in my private affairs."
"I interest myself in everybody's private affairs, when they have to
do with murder," said Rodgers quietly.
Tidman stared and gasped. "Then you are?--"
"The detective in charge of the Wharf murder case. I am glad to see you,
sir," he laid a finger on Tidman's chest, "you have something to tell me
no doubt?"
"No," said the Major gasping again, "I have not."
Rupert looked at him suddenly and the Major's small eyes fell before
that direct gaze. "Let us go, into the library," said Ainsleigh
tranquilly, "we may as well have a long talk before I am arrested."
Tidman jumped. "Arrested," he cried staring.
Something in his looks, made Rodgers take the cue thus offered, "I may
have to arrest Mr. Ainsleigh for the murder," he said significantly.
"But that's rubbish, why should he murder Miss Wharf?"
"On account of the fan," put in Rupert grimly.
"I'll never believe that--never," said Tidman vigorously.
Rodgers looked at him sideways. "Well you see," said he in a cheerful
voice. "Miss Wharf was strangled with a red and yellow silk tie,
belonging to Mr. Ainsleigh."
"I know, and I saw him place that tie in his overcoat pocket."
"You say that. Quite so. Mr. Ainsleigh might have taken it out again."
"No. He couldn't have done that. The attendant came back, and remained
in the room all the rest of the evening."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I returned to the cloak-room to see if Mr. Ainsleigh was there.
I learned from the attendant," said the Major volubly, "that Mr.
Ainsleigh and Mr. Burgh had been fighting--"
"Oh," said the detective, "so Mr. Burgh knew of the tie also?"
"He did not," put in young Ainsleigh rapidly, "he came in, after I put
the tie away. He insulted me, about--about a lady," said Rupert
hesitating, "and I knocked him down twice."
"Didn't the attendant interfere?"
"No. Burgh threw him a shilling and told him to cut. I ordered the man
to stay, but he obeyed Burgh. Then we had a row, and I went away."
"Leaving Mr. Burgh in the cloak-room?" asked Rodgers shrewdly.
"Yes. But he knew nothing about the tie. He could not have taken it. I
am sure he didn't."
The detective smiled in a puzzled manner. "Upon my word Mr. Ainsleigh,
you defend everyone. First Tung-yu, now Mr. Burgh, who is your enemy."
"I have so many enemies," said Rupert with a shrug, "Tung-yu told me
that Burgh and Forge and Major Tidman were my enemies."
"That's a lie on Tung-yu's part," chimed in the Major angrily. "I am not
your enemy."
Rupert turned on him quickly. "Prove it then," he said, sharply, "by
stating that I was with you on the beach last night after eleven."
"Oh, oh," cried Rodgers smiling, "so you can prove an alibi after all,
Mr. Ainsleigh."
"Yes," said Rupert shortly. "But I did not wish to speak, until I heard
what Major Tidman had to say."
Rodgers shook his head. "You have too nice a sense of honour," was his
remark, "or else you are very deep."
Rupert did not reply. His eyes were fixed on the Major's face, which
changed to various colours. "You knew my father well Tidman?"
"Yes. We were old friends--good friends," faltered the other.
"Do you know how he died?"
"No I do not." The Major wiped his face, "I can safely say I do not."
"But you know he was murdered."
The Major started. "Who told you that?"
"Tung-yu, and you know Tung-yu, who might have explained the
circumstances of my father's death to you."
"He did not," said Tidman earnestly, "but I heard that Mr. Ainsleigh did
die by violence. I don't know under what circumstances."
"This is all very well gentlemen," said the detective, "but it does not
help me."
"It may help you, Mr. Rodgers. The murder of Miss Wharf is connected
with this fan, and the Major can tell you about his Canton adventure
which has to do with it also."
Major Tidman turned grey and his face looked fearful, "I came to tell
you, Rupert," he said trying to be calm, "but it won't help this man,"
he nodded towards Rodgers, "to find the assassin."
"We'll see about that," replied Rodgers briskly, "let us go in and sit
down. The fan is at the bottom of this business, and when I learn all
about it, I may know how to act."
The Major shrugged his plump shoulders and walked towards the open
French window. When he passed through to the library, the detective and
Ainsleigh followed. In a few minutes, they were comfortably seated.
Rupert asked the two if they would have some refreshments, and receiving
a reply in the affirmative, rang the bell. "Though mind you, Mr.
Ainsleigh," said Rodgers, "this drinking a glass of wine doesn't stop me
from arresting you, if I see fit."
"You can set your mind at rest," said Rupert coldly, "I have no wish to
tie you down to a bread and salt treaty. Some wine, Mrs. Petley."
The housekeeper, who had entered, was as plump as ever, but her face
looked yellow, and old, and haggard, and there was a terrified look in
her eyes. In strange contrast to her usual volubility, she did not speak
a word, but dropping a curtsey, went out.
"That woman looks scared," said the detective.
"She _is_ scared," assented Rupert, "we have a ghost here, Mr.
Rodgers--the ghost of a monk, and Mrs. Petley thought she saw it last
night."
"Really," said the detective with good-humoured contempt, "she _thought_
she saw a ghost. What nonsense."
"No, sir. It ain't nonsense."
It was the housekeeper who spoke. Having seen the Major coming up the
avenue, she knew that he would require his usual glass of port, and
therefore had prepared the tray, while the conversation was taking place
on the terrace. This accounted for her quick return, and she set down
the tray with the jingling glasses and decanter as she spoke. "It was a
ghost, sure enough," said Mrs. Petley, when the small table was placed
before the three gentlemen, "the ghost of Abbot Raoul. I've seen him
times and again, but never so plainly as last night. It was between
eleven and twelve," added Mrs. Petley without waiting for permission to