The Mandarin's Fan
Lo-Keong was of a different type of Celestial to Tung-yu and Hwei, and
paid him great deference. He explained to Rupert his ill-success with
the yacht Stormy Petrel, and detailed the interview with Clarence.
"I wish I had told you about him in my letter," said Rupert jumping up,
much annoyed with himself, "you could have arrested him."
And when Rodgers heard the story, he blamed Ainsleigh, as much as he
blamed himself for not having risked an arrest on suspicion.
"But you know, sir," said he, huffily, "Burgh really didn't give himself
away. I could do nothing to him--or to the Captain of the Stormy Petrel
either on what evidence I hear. As to those Chinamen--"
"Ah," said Lo-Keong, "you must let me deal with them Mr. Rodgers."
"Can you deal with Tung-yu."
The Mandarin drew down the corners of his mouth. "I think so," said he,
"it is my belief that he has the papers."
"What papers, sir?"
Lo-Keong, seeing it was absolutely necessary to make things plain, if he
wanted to secure his precious packet, related almost word for word the
story he had told on the previous night. "So you see," he observed,
"Tung-yu probably strangled Miss Wharf as formerly he strangled Mr.
Markham Ainsleigh. I discussed this with Hwei, and he, knowing that
Tung-yu had betrayed him once, was much of the same opinion."
"But if Tung-yu has the papers, why did he write to Tidman?" argued
Rupert, not inclined to take this view.
"Probably to throw Hwei off the scent. Tung-yu knows well enough that if
he started for China, Hwei would suspect he had the papers, and would
follow him to get them."
"By murder?"
"Probably," said the Mandarin indifferently, "and after all sir, why
not? Tung-yu killed your father and Miss Wharf. Hwei is watching him,
and if he can make sure that Tung-yu has my parcel, he will kill
him--with my approval," ended Lo-Keong calmly.
"Wait a bit," said Rodgers also coolly, though the speech astonished him
not a little, "when you talked to Hwei, you did not know that the papers
had been stolen."
"No. But he who has the fan has the papers. Hwei and I both thought that
Tung-yu had the fan, and therefore Hwei watches him. I came down
unexpectedly last night instead of waiting, so that I might assure
myself that the packet was safe. But only a short time before, Mr.
Ainsleigh found the fan. Tung-yu must have come down and taken the
papers."
Rupert nodded. "Certainly. Without doubt he was the ghost Mrs. Petley
saw, and when she came on him suddenly, he dropped the fan and fled. He
must have climbed the wall of the park in spite of the spikes."
Lo-Keong smiled sourly, "I do not think anything--spikes or otherwise
would have kept Tung-yu from gaining possession of those papers. And of
course he knew the way to make the picture visible."
"How was that. I thought only you and my father and Hwei--"
"Ah," said the Mandarin calmly, "it seems that Tung-yu overheard the
discussion between myself and your father as to the hiding of the papers
and the plan of the fan. When he strangled Markham Ainsleigh, he hoped
to find the packet at once. But Hwei secured both the fan and the
packet. I have told you how they came to England, and how Hwei gave the
fan to his brother. The brother was killed by accident and the coolie I
spoke of, found the fan in his clothing, knowing nothing of it's
significance. Then he learned the truth from the notice I put in the
Pekin paper, and was afraid lest he should offend the god Kwang-ho. No
he was not afraid of death--few of us are in China. But the anger of a
god is different: it means ages of torment and the chance of being born
again in the belly of some creeping animal. So the coolie kept the fan,
till he found an opportunity of giving it to a foreign devil, in the
person of Major Tidman. I can't understand how he knew the Major wanted
the fan, save that he must have heard that Tidman was searching for news
as to the death of Markham Ainsleigh. The coolie then knew, from
enquiries at the mine, that the fan was connected with the death, and
thus that the god Kwang-ho might have appointed the death of Markham.
Yes," said the Mandarin complacently, "the coolie was afraid of the god,
and no doubt was glad when Major Tidman took the fan."
Rodgers stared as Lo-Keong spoke. "It's rum to hear a gentleman like
yourself talk this way, sir," he said.
"Ah," smiled the Mandarin, "our Eastern ways are different to yours."
"Yes," said the detective, "but you are so clever, that I don't see how
you can believe in all this stuff about the private god."
Lo-Keong waved his hand imperatively. "Let us not speak of that, or we
anger Kwang-ho. He is the controller of my destiny. Rather let us see
how we can recover my papers from Tung-yu."
"If he has them," put in Rupert perplexedly. "And if so, Hwei will get
them back."
"Assuredly," replied the Mandarin, "the first attempt that Tung-yu makes
to leave England for our own land, Hwei will guess the truth, and will
kill him to get the fan or the papers."
"But the fan is here."
"Yes. Hwei however thinks Tung-yu has it. I shall tell him that Tung-yu
has taken the papers."
"But by breaking the agreement come to before the god, won't Kwang-ho be
angry, Marquis."
"Hwei does not mind, he is my slave and will do anything for me.
No--No," added the Marquis calmly, "as Tung-yu first disobeyed the god,
in not bringing Miss Wharf to meet with her doom at the hands of Hwei,
Kwang-ho will give him up to my vengeance."
Neither of the Europeans could make anything of this. "What we want to
know," said Ainsleigh, speaking for himself and Rogers, "is, how did the
fan get back to you?"
"I told you last night it did not get back," replied Lo-Keong. "I heard
from Hwei that the fan was given to Miss Wharf by Burgh--but how he got
it--" Lo-Keong shook his head.
"From a pirate in Chinese waters."
"No. The fan never came back to China," Lo-Keong took a paper out of his
pocket, "I should have given that to you last night. It will show you
why Hwei and Tung-yu came to look for the fan in England," and he gave
the paper to Rupert.
The young man read it. It was in scratchy female handwriting, and was to
the effect that the fan of the Marquis was in the possession of a
certain person in England. No name was signed to this paper, and after
Rodgers had read it, Lo-Keong took it again and laid it on the table.
"So you see," he remarked, "when I got that letter, I knew the fan was
in England. I sent Hwei to search for it, and of course Tung-yu on
behalf of Hop Sing came also. They could not find who had written the
letter, and advertised the fan as you know."
"Then Burgh told a lie," said Rupert.
Lo-Keong opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so, Mrs.
Ainsleigh entered with a sheet of foolscap in her hand. "I beg your
pardon for interrupting you gentlemen," she said excitedly, "but here is
something you should know. Rupert," she turned to her husband and thrust
the paper into his hand. "It's from Dr. Forge."
"What?" cried Ainsleigh astonished. "Has he dared to write?"
"Yes, and he writes to some purpose. Read it out Rupert. I am sure the
Marquis and Mr. Rodgers will be glad to hear."
"If it bears on the case," hesitated the detective.
"It does," answered Olivia seating herself, "listen."
Rupert glanced at the heading of the letter. "He gives London as his
address," he said, "so he apparently is afraid of being caught."
"Read, dear," said Mrs. Ainsleigh impatiently.
Thus adjured Rupert began. "My dear Mrs. Ainsleigh," said Forge in his
communication, "I write to you rather than your husband, as I think you
will judge me fairer than he will."
"As if I could," put in Mrs. Ainsleigh impatiently.
"I am not a good man, and I never pretended to be. But I have been poor
all my life, and the lack of money is the cause of my having acted in a
way which, otherwise I should not have done. There is much truth in
Becky Sharp's remark that anyone can be good on five thousand a year.
Had I possessed that amount this letter would never have been written.
As it is, I write, because I hear that the Marquis Lo-Keong is in
England, and he will no doubt, tell your husband his own story."
"Which is not creditable to Forge," said the Marquis, suavely.
Rupert nodded and proceeded.... "I was at college with Markham
Ainsleigh, your husband's father, and he believed in me. But I was
always jealous of him, as he was handsomer than I was; he possessed an
ancient and honoured name, and was fairly well off. I was born of poor
parents and was of humble origin. Markham certainly helped me with money
and with influence, so that I obtained my degree."
"And a nice way he repaid his obligations," said Olivia, sharply.
"He's frank enough about his baseness at all events," said Rupert, and
then continued the letter. "Markham wanted money, and as the doctor of a
liner to Hong-Kong, I had heard of a little-worked gold mine on the Hwei
River. I told Markham about it, and proposed that he should go to China
to work the mine. He agreed, and took me with him, as he thought that my
medical knowledge would benefit him."
"Does Forge say he owned part of the mine?" asked Lo-Keong.
"No. Listen," said Rupert, reading slowly. "I was merely the doctor, as
Markham bought the rights to work the mine with his own money. But he
promised me a share, and my share now amounts to ten thousand pounds."
"That is true in a way," said Lo-Keong, "out of the money I pay you, Mr.
Ainsleigh, this man can certainly claim that amount."
"Then what I receive must be a large sum," said Rupert.
The Chinaman smiled faintly. "Much larger than you think," said
Lo-Keong, "pardon my interruption and proceed."
Rupert continued. "But I was not satisfied with my share, and wanted all
the money. Lo-Keong had an enemy called Hop Sing, and he promised if I
could ruin Lo-Keong that he would put Markham out of the way, and give
me the money which had been obtained by working the mine. I knew that
Markham had never sent any money home, as he wanted to wait until he
could become a millionaire, and then return to astonish his wife, and
restore the splendours of Royabay. I therefore saw Hop Sing----"
"I think you can leave all that out, Mr. Ainsleigh," said Lo-Keong, "it
is the story I told you."
"So it is," said Rupert, running his eyes down the closely written page.
"Well--hum--hum," he picked up the thread of the tale lower down. "It
seems," he said, speaking for himself, "that Hop Sing fell into
disgrace, and Forge could not get the money. He went to China several
times, as Hop Sing recovered his position----"
"And I fell into disgrace," said the Marquis, "the Empress is a woman
you know--pardon me, Mrs. Ainsleigh--and whimsical."
"Well," said Rupert, smiling, "you seem to have been up and down several
times. When Hop Sing was in favour, Forge went to China, but the
Mandarin refused to help him to get the money which was under the
control of Lo-Keong, unless the fan was obtained. Forge learned the
conditions of the fan, and finally got it from the Major. He took it to
England and locked it up in a cabinet. But he was afraid to take it to
China or use it in case Hwei should kill him."
"And Hwei would have killed him," said the Marquis, "it was as well that
Forge was so careful. But how did he lose the fan?"
"Miss Pewsey took it," said Rupert glancing at the letter.
"A woman," the Marquis took the note from the table, and passed it to
Mrs. Ainsleigh. "Tell me, madam, is that a woman's handwriting."
Olivia looked surprised. "It is Miss Pewsey's handwriting."
"Ah," said Rupert, "so she wrote to Lo-Keong telling him the fan was in
England. Listen to what the doctor says," and he began to read again.