ENTER CHARLIE CHAN
Miss Minerva leaned far over, her keen eyes seeking Dan's face. It was
turned toward the wall, half buried in the pillow. "Dan," she said
brokenly. She put her hand on his cheek. The night air was warm and
muggy, but she shivered a little as she drew the hand quickly away.
Steady! She must be steady now.
She hurried through the living-room to the hall; the telephone was in a
closet under the front stairs. Her fingers were trembling again as she
fumbled with the numerals on the dial. She got her number, heard finally
an answering voice.
"Amos? Is that you, Amos? This is Minerva. Come over here to Dan's as
quickly as you can."
The voice muttered in protest. Miss Minerva cut in on it sharply.
"For God's sake, Amos, forget your silly feud. Your brother is dead."
"Dead?" he repeated dully.
"Murdered, Amos. Will you come now?"
A long silence. What thoughts, Miss Minerva wondered, were passing
through the mind of that stern unbending Puritan?
"I'll come," a strange voice said at last. And then, a voice more like
that of the Amos she knew: "The police! I'll notify them, and then I'll
come right over."
Returning to the hall, Miss Minerva saw that the big front door was
closed. Amos would enter that way, she knew, so she went over and opened
it. There was, she noted, an imposing lock, but the key had long since
been lost and forgotten. Indeed, in all Dan's great house, she could not
recall ever having seen a key. In these friendly trusting islands,
locked doors were obsolete.
She reentered the living-room. Should she summon a doctor? But no, it
was too late, she knew that only too well. And the police--didn't they
bring some sort of doctor with them? Suddenly she began to wonder about
the police. During all her time in Honolulu she had never given them a
thought before. Away off here at the end of the world--did they have
policemen? She couldn't remember ever having seen one. Oh, yes--there
was that handsome, brown-skinned Hawaiian who stood on a box at the
corner of Fort and King Streets, directing traffic with an air that
would have become Kamehameha himself. She heard the scrape of a chair
being moved on the lanai, and went to the door.
"Nothing is to be touched out here," she said. "Leave it just as it was.
You'd better go up-stairs and dress, both of you."
The two frightened servants came into the living-room, and stood there
regarding her. They seemed to feel that this terrible affair called for
discussion. But what was there to be said? Even in the event of murder,
a Winterslip must maintain a certain well-bred aloofness in dealing with
servants. Miss Minerva's feeling for them was kindly. She sympathized
with their evident grief, but there was, she felt, nothing to discuss.
"After you've dressed," she ordered, "stay within reach. You'll both be
wanted."
They went out, Haku in his absurd costume, Kamaikui moaning and
muttering in a way that sent shivers up and down Miss Minerva's spine.
They left her there alone--with Dan--and she who had always thought
herself equal to anything still hesitated about going out on the lanai.
She sat down in a huge chair in the living-room and gazed about her at
the trappings of wealth and position that Dan had left for ever now.
Poor Dan. Despite all the whispering against him, she had liked him
immensely. It is said of many--usually with small reason--that their
lives would make an interesting book. It had been said of Dan, and in
his case it was true. What a book his life would have made--and how
promptly it would have been barred for all time from the shelves of the
Boston Public Library! For Dan had lived life to the full, made his own
laws, fought his battles without mercy, prospered and had his way.
Dallied often along forbidden paths, they said, but his smile had been
so friendly and his voice so full of cheer--always until these last two
weeks.
Ever since that night he sent the letter to Roger, he had seemed a
different man. There were lines for the first time in his face, a weary
apprehensive look in his gray eyes. And how furious he had been when,
last Wednesday, he received a cable from Roger. What was in that
message, Miss Minerva wondered; what were those few typewritten words
that had caused him to fly into such a rage and set him to pacing the
floor with tigerish step?
She thought of him as she had seen him last--he had seemed rather
pathetic to her then. When the news came that the _President Tyler_
could not dock until morning, and that Barbara--
Miss Minerva stopped. For the first time she thought of Barbara. She
thought of a sprightly, vivacious girl as yet untouched by sorrow--and
of the morning's home-coming. Tears came into her eyes, and it was
through a mist she saw the bamboo curtain that led into the hall pushed
aside, and the thin white face of Amos framed there.
Amos entered, walking gingerly, for he was treading ground he had sworn
his feet should never touch. He paused before Miss Minerva.
"What's this?" he said. "What's all this?"
She nodded toward the lanai, and he went out there. After what seemed a
long time, he reappeared. His shoulders drooped wearily and his watery
eyes were staring.
"Stabbed through the heart," he muttered. He stood for a moment
regarding his father's picture on the wall. "The wages of sin is death,"
he added, as though to old Jedediah Winterslip.
"Yes, Amos," said Miss Minerva sharply. "I expected we should hear that
from you. And there's another one you may have heard--judge not that ye
be not judged. Further than that, we'll waste no time moralizing. Dan is
dead, and I for one am sorry."
"Sorry!" repeated Amos drearily. "How about me? My brother--my young
brother--I taught him to walk on this very beach--"
"Yes." Miss Minerva looked at him keenly. "I wonder. Well, Dan's gone.
Some one has killed him. He was one of us--a Winterslip. What are we
going to do about it?"
"I've notified the police," said Amos.
"Then why aren't they here? In Boston by this time--but then, I know
this isn't Boston. Stabbed, you say. Was there any sign of a weapon?"
"None whatever, that I could see."
"How about that Malay kris on the table out there? The one Dan used as a
paper cutter?"
"I didn't notice," Amos replied. "This is a strange house to me,
Minerva."
"So it is." Miss Minerva rose and started for the lanai. She was her old
competent self again. At that moment a loud knock sounded on the screen
door at the front of the house. Presently there were voices in the hall,
and Haku ushered three men into the living-room. Though evidently
police, they were all in plain clothes. One of them, a tall, angular
Yankee with the look of a sailing master about him, stepped forward.
"I'm Hallet," he said. "Captain of Detectives. You're Mr. Amos
Winterslip, I believe?"
"I am," Amos answered. He introduced Miss Minerva. Captain Hallet gave
her a casual nod; this was man's business and he disliked having a woman
involved.
"Dan Winterslip, you said," he remarked, turning back to Amos. "That's a
great pity. Where is he?"
Amos indicated the lanai. "Come, Doctor," Hallet said, and went through
the curtain, followed by the smaller of the two men.
As they went out, the third man stepped farther into the room, and Miss
Minerva gave a little gasp of astonishment as she looked at him. In
those warm islands thin men were the rule, but here was a striking
exception. He was very fat indeed, yet he walked with the light dainty
step of a woman. His cheeks were as chubby as a baby's, his skin ivory
tinted, his black hair close-cropped, his amber eyes slanting. As he
passed Miss Minerva he bowed with a courtesy encountered all too rarely
in a work-a-day world, then moved on after Hallet.
"Amos!" cried Miss Minerva. "That man--why he--"
"Charlie Chan," Amos explained. "I'm glad they brought him. He's the
best detective on the force."
"But--he's a Chinaman!"
"Of course."
Miss Minerva sank into a chair. Ah, yes, they had policemen out here,
after all.
In a few moments Hallet came briskly back into the living-room. "Look
here," he said. "The doctor tells me Mr. Winterslip has been dead a very
short while. I don't want your evidence just yet--but if either of you
can give me some idea as to the hour when this thing happened--"
"I can give you a rather definite idea," said Miss Minerva calmly. "It
happened just previous to twenty minutes past one. Say about one
fifteen."
Hallet stared at her. "You're sure of that?"
"I ought to be. I got the time from the wrist watch of the person who
committed the murder."
"What! You saw him!"
"I didn't say that. I said I saw his wrist watch."
Hallet frowned. "I'll get that straight later," he said. "Just now I
propose to comb this part of town. Where's the telephone?"
Miss Minerva pointed it out to him, and heard him in earnest
conversation with a man at headquarters named Tom. Tom's job, it seemed,
was to muster all available men and search Honolulu, particularly the
Waikiki district, rounding up any suspicious characters. He was also to
have on hand, awaiting his chief's return, the passenger lists of all
ships that had made port at Honolulu during the past week.
Hallet returned to the living-room. He took a stand directly in front of
Miss Minerva. "Now," he began, "you didn't see the murderer, but you saw
his wrist watch. I'm a great believer in taking things in an orderly
fashion. You're a stranger here. From Boston, I believe?"
"I am," snapped Miss Minerva.
"Stopping in this house?"
"Precisely."
"Anybody here besides you and Mr. Winterslip?"
Miss Minerva's eyes flashed. "The servants," she said. "And I would like
to call your attention to the fact that I am Dan Winterslip's first
cousin."
"Oh, sure--no offense. He has a daughter, hasn't he?"
"Miss Barbara is on her way home from college. Her ship will dock in the
morning."
"I see. Just you and Winterslip. You're going to be an important
witness."
"It will be a novel experience, at any rate," she remarked.
"I dare say. Now, go back--" Miss Minerva glared at him--it was a glare
that had frightened guards on the Cambridge subway. He brushed it aside.
"You understand that I haven't time for please, Miss Winterslip. Go back
and describe last evening in this house."
"I was here only until eight-thirty," she told him, "when I went to a
luau with some friends. Previous to that, Mr. Winterslip dined at his
usual hour and we chatted for a time on the lanai."
"Did he seem to have anything on his mind?"
"Well, he has appeared a bit upset--"
"Wait a minute!" The captain took out a note-book. "Want to put down
some of this. Been upset, has he? For how long?"
"For the past two weeks. Let me think--just two weeks ago to-night--or
rather, last night--he and I were sitting on the lanai, and he was
reading the evening paper. Something in it seemed to disturb him. He got
up, wrote a note to his cousin Roger in San Francisco, and took it down
for a friend aboard the _President Tyler_ to deliver. From that moment
he appeared restless and unhappy."
"Go on. This may be important."
"Last Wednesday morning he received a cable from Roger that infuriated
him."
"A cable. What was in it?"
"It was not addressed to me," said Miss Minerva haughtily.
"Well, that's all right. We'll dig it up. Now, about last night. Did he
act more upset than ever?"
"He did. But that may have been due to the fact he had hoped his
daughter's ship would dock yesterday afternoon, and had learned it could
not land its passengers until this morning."
"I see. You said you was only here until eight-thirty?"
"I did not," replied Miss Minerva coldly. "I said I was here only until
eight-thirty."
"Same thing."
"Well, hardly."
"I'm not here to talk grammar," Hallet said sharply. "Did anything
occur--anything out of the ordinary--before you left?"
"No. Wait a moment. Some one called Mr. Winterslip on the telephone
while he was at dinner. I couldn't help overhearing the conversation."
"Good for you!" She glared at him again. "Repeat it."
"I heard Mr. Winterslip say: 'Hello, Egan. What--you're not coming over?
Oh, yes you are. I want to see you. I insist on it. Come about eleven. I
want to see you.' That was, at least, the import of his remarks."
"Did he seem excited?"
"He raised his voice above the ordinary tone."
"Ah, yes." The captain stared at his note-book. "Must have been Jim
Egan, who runs this God-forsaken Reef and Palm Hotel down the beach." He
turned to Amos. "Was Egan a friend of your brother?"
"I don't know," said Amos.
"You see, Amos was not a friend of his brother, either," explained Miss
Minerva. "There was an old feud between them. Speaking for myself, I
never heard Dan mention Egan, and he certainly never came to the house
while I was here."
Hallet nodded. "Well, you left at eight-thirty. Now tell us where you
went and when you got back. And all about the wrist watch."
Miss Minerva rapidly sketched her evening at the luau. She described her
return to Dan's living-room, her adventure in the dark--the luminous
dial that waited for her to pass.
"I wish you'd seen more," Hallet complained. "Too many people wear wrist
watches."
"Probably not many," said Miss Minerva, "wear a wrist watch like that
one."
"Oh. It had some distinguishing mark?"
"It certainly did. The numerals were illuminated, and stood out
clearly--with an exception. The figure 2 was very dim--practically
obliterated."
He looked at her admiringly. "Well, you certainly had your wits about
you."
"That's a habit I formed early in life," replied Miss Minerva. "And old
habits are hard to break."
He smiled, and asked her to continue. She told of rousing the two
servants and, finally, of the gruesome discovery on the lanai.
"But it was Mr. Amos," Hallet said, "who called the station."
"Yes. I telephoned him at once, and he offered to attend to that."
Hallet turned to Amos. "How long did it take you to reach here, Mr.
Winterslip?" he inquired.
"Not more than ten minutes," said Amos.
"You could dress and get here in that time?"
Amos hesitated. "I--I did not need to dress," he explained. "I hadn't
gone to bed."
Hallet regarded him with a new interest. "Half past one--and you were
still up?"
"I--I don't sleep very well," said Amos. "I'm up till all hours."
"I see. You weren't on friendly terms with your brother? An old quarrel
between you?"
"No particular quarrel. I didn't approve of his manner of living, and we
went separate ways."
"And stopped speaking to each other, eh?"
"Yes. That was the situation," Amos admitted.
"Humph." For a moment the captain stared at Amos, and Miss Minerva
stared at him too. Amos! It flashed through her mind that Amos had been
a long time alone out there on the lanai before the arrival of the
police.
"Those two servants who came down-stairs with you, Miss Winterslip,"
Hallet said. "I'll see them now. The others can go over until morning."
Haku and Kamaikui appeared, frightened and wide-eyed. The Jap had
nothing to tell, he had been sleeping soundly from nine until the moment
Miss Minerva knocked on his door. He swore it. But Kamaikui had
something to contribute.
"I come here with fruit." She pointed to a basket on the table. "On
lanai out there are talking--Mr. Dan, a man, a woman. Oh, very much
angry."
"What time was that?" Hallet asked.
"Ten o'clock I think."
"Did you recognize any voice except your master's?"
Miss Minerva thought the woman hesitated a second. "No. I do not."
"Anything else?"
"Yes. Maybe eleven o'clock. I am sitting close to window up-stairs. More
talking on lanai. Mr. Dan and other man. Not so much angry this time."
"At eleven, eh? Do you know Mr. Jim Egan?"
"I have seen him."
"Could you say if it was his voice?"
"I could not say."
"All right. You two can go now." He turned to Miss Minerva and Amos.
"We'll see what Charlie has dug up out here," he said, and led the way
to the lanai.
The huge Chinaman knelt, a grotesque figure, by a table. He rose
laboriously as they entered.
"Find the knife, Charlie?" the captain asked.
Chan shook his head. "No knife are present in neighborhood of crime," he
announced.
"On that table," Miss Minerva began, "there was a Malay kris, used as a
paper cutter--"
The Chinaman nodded, and lifted the kris from the desk. "Same remains
here still," he said, "untouched, unsullied. Person who killed carried
individual weapon."
"How about finger-prints?" asked Hallet.
"Considering from recent discovery," Chan replied, "search for
finger-prints are hopeless one." He held out a pudgy hand, in the palm
of which lay a small pearl button. "Torn from kid's glove," he
elucidated. "Aged trick of criminal mind. No finger-prints."
"Is that all you've got?" asked his chief.
"Most sincere endeavors," said Chan, "have revealed not much. However, I
might mention this." He took up a leather bound book from the table.
"Here are written names of visitors who have enjoyed hospitality of the
house. A guest book is, I believe, the term. You will find that one of
the earlier pages has been ruthlessly torn out. When I make discovery
the volume are lying open at that locality."
Captain Hallet took the book in his thin hand. "All right, Charlie," he
said. "This is your case."
The slant eyes blinked with pleasure. "Most interesting," murmured Chan.
Hallet tapped the note-book in his pocket. "I've got a few facts here
for you--we'll run over them later." He stood for a moment, staring
about the lanai. "I must say we seem a little shy on clues. A button
torn from a glove, a page ripped from a guest book. And a wrist watch
with an illuminated dial on which the figure 2 was damaged." Chan's
little eyes widened at mention of that. "Not much, Charlie, so far."
"Maybe more to come," suggested the Chinaman. "Who knows it?"
"We'll go along now," Hallet continued. He turned to Miss Minerva and
Amos. "I guess you folks would like a little rest. We'll have to trouble
you again to-morrow."
Miss Minerva faced the Chinaman. "The person who did this must be
apprehended," she said firmly.
He looked at her sleepily. "What is to be, will be," he replied in a
high, sing-song voice.
"I know--that's your Confucius," she snapped. "But it's a do-nothing
doctrine, and I don't approve of it."
A faint smile flickered over the Chinaman's face. "Do not fear," he
said. "The fates are busy, and man may do much to assist. I promise you
there will be no do-nothing here." He came closer. "Humbly asking pardon
to mention it, I detect in your eyes slight flame of hostility. Quench
it, if you will be so kind. Friendly cooperation are essential between
us." Despite his girth, he managed a deep bow. "Wishing you good
morning," he added, and followed Hallet.
Miss Minerva turned weakly to Amos. "Well, of all things--"
"Don't you worry about Charlie," Amos said. "He has a reputation for
getting his man. Now you go to bed. I'll stay here and notify the--the
proper people."
"Well, I will lie down for a little while," Miss Minerva said. "I shall
have to go early to the dock. Poor Barbara! And there's John Quincy
coming too." A grim smile crossed her face. "I'm afraid John Quincy
won't approve of this."
She saw from her bedroom window that the night was breaking, the rakish
cocoanut palms and the hau tree were wrapped in a gray mist. Changing
her dress for a kimono, she lay down under the mosquito netting on the
bed. She slept but briefly, however, and presently was at her window
again. Day had come, the mist had lifted, and it was a rose and emerald
world that sparkled before her tired eyes.
The freshness of that scene revivified her. The trades were blowing
now--poor Dan, he had so longed for their return. The night, she saw,
had worked its magic on the blossoms of the hau tree, transformed them
from yellow to a rich mahogany, through the morning they would drop one
by one upon the sand. In a distant algaroba a flock of myna birds
screamed at the new day. A party of swimmers appeared from a neighboring
cottage and plunged gaily into the surf.
A gentle knock sounded on the door, and Kamaikui entered. She placed a
small object in Miss Minerva's hand.
Miss Minerva looked down. She saw a quaint old piece of jewelry, a
brooch. Against a background of onyx stood the outline of a tree, with
emeralds forming the leaves, rubies the fruit, and a frost of diamonds
over all.
"What is this, Kamaikui?" she asked.
"Many, many years Mr. Dan have that. One month ago he gives it to a
woman down the beach."
Miss Minerva's eyes narrowed. "To the woman they call the Widow of
Waikiki?"
"To her, yes."
"How do you happen to have it, Kamaikui?"
"I pick it up from floor of lanai. Before policemen come."
"Very good." Miss Minerva nodded. "Say nothing of this, Kamaikui. I will
attend to the matter."
"Yes. Of course." The woman went out.
Miss Minerva sat very still, staring down at that odd bit of jewelry in
her hand. It must date back to the 'eighties, at least.
Close above the house sounded the loud whir of an aeroplane. Miss
Minerva turned again to the window. A young lieutenant in the air
service, in love with a sweet girl on the beach, was accustomed to
serenade her thus every morning at dawn. His thoughtfulness was not
appreciated by many innocent bystanders, but Miss Minerva's eyes were
sympathetic as she watched him sweep exultantly out, far out, over the
harbor.
Youth and love, the beginning of life. And on that cot down on the
lanai, Dan--and the end.