The Mandarin's Fan

"Well it doesn't matter," said Olivia, feeling in her pocket. "I want to talk about ourselves. See Rupert you wanted a silk tie the other day. I have knitted you one – red and yellow."

Rupert took the tie and admired it in the lamp light. He would have kissed Olivia's hand after a few words of warm thanks, but she prevented him.

"Someone might see and tell Aunt Sophia," she said hurriedly, "I should have given it to you the other day when I called at the Abbey, but I forgot, so I decided to give it to you to-night. It's rather awkward your having it now. Give it to me again."

"No! I'll put it in my over-coat in the cloak room," said Rupert, rising, "but I must take you back to Miss Wharf, or she will be angry."

"I wish this deception was at an end and I could be with you altogether," said Olivia rising with a sigh.

It was at this moment that Miss Pewsey chose to come forward. She was furious at the way in which the couple spoke of her, but long habit enabled her to smooth her face to a treacherous smile.

"Oh dear Olivia," she said. "I have been looking for you everywhere."

"Does my aunt want me?" asked the girl calmly.

"No. She is in the supper-room with Mr. Forge. But Mr. Walker – "

"I don't want him," said Miss Rayner quickly, and with a change of voice.

"Yes – yes," said Rupert in a low voice. "Go with her, and dance with Walker; it will prevent Miss Wharf being cross."

"Very well," rejoined Olivia quietly: then turned to Miss Pewsey who smiled like a grotesque image. "Let us go to the ball-room."

"Won't Mr. Ainsleigh escort us?" asked the old maid, blandly. Rupert bowed, and smothering his feelings, which always revolted at the sight of the woman, he walked beside the two to the ball-room. Miss Pewsey took Olivia's arm and chattered effusively all the time. At the door they met Chris Walker, who hurried up at once and asked for a dance. Leaving the two ladies with him, Rupert went towards the cloak room. Here to his surprise he saw Major Tidman clothed in a heavy fur coat, talking to Tung-yu. Tidman looked white and uneasy, but the Chinaman still preserved his impassive face. Rupert took no notice but simply nodded to the Major as he passed, pulling out the yellow and red tie as he did so. Tidman changed colour, apparently not pleased at being found talking to Tung-yu, and laughed uneasily. "That's a bright piece of goods Ainsleigh."

"It's a present," said Rupert thrusting the tie into the pocket of his over coat. "I should think it would match your friend's dress."

"Hush," said Tidman quietly, "he speaks English. He will hear," then he added aloud. "Let me introduce you to Mr. Ainsleigh, Tung-yu."

The Chinaman turned and looked impassive enough. But his eyes had an enquiring look in their black depths. "Tung-yu and I met in Canton, where we had an adventure," said the Major, with a titter.

"About that famous fan?" asked Rupert smiling.

Tung-yu started and looked quickly at Tidman, who was again pale. "I don't remember about the fan," said Tung-yu, "did our friend find it in Canton?"

"No! No I never did," said Tidman hurriedly, – "that is Forge found the fan – "

"And gave it to Miss Wharf. Quite so," replied Tung-yu blandly. "I see her to-morrow about the matter," then he bowed to Rupert and moved away slowly.

"I thought you had a bad cold," said Rupert to Tidman, who was looking after the Chinaman with a scared expression.

"Yes – yes – but that is better now," said the Major hurriedly, "so Miss Wharf is here, and has the fan?"

"Yes, she offered to give it to me if I surrendered Olivia."

"Refuse – refuse," cried Tidman hurriedly: he approached his lips to Ainsleigh's ears. "There is death in the air to-night."

"Tidman," cried Ainsleigh starting away and staring.

"Yes – yes – say nothing. I wish you hadn't mentioned about my having the fan. Tung-yu never knew – but it can't be helped. Ainsleigh, is there another Chinaman here to-night?"

"I have seen none. Do you expect Hwei? If so we had better warn Miss Wharf. She has the fan and – "

"No! No – say nothing. Don't touch the accursed thing."

"How do you know it is accursed?"

"I knew in Canton, and in a very unpleasant way. But I'll tell you my adventure to-morrow – yes I will – if nothing happens to-night."

Rupert stared still harder. "What can happen to-night man alive?"

"Nothing – nothing," said the Major hurriedly. "I'll get back to my room – you needn't say you have seen me. I – "

"Just the man I want," cried a bold free voice, and Burgh's slim hand fell on the Major's shoulder. "Miss Pewsey asks for you."

"For me. Any more trouble?"

"I guess not. She wants to fuss round about your cold. Heaping coals of fire's the English of it."

"Let her leave me alone," said the Major petulently. "I'm quite well. I am going back to my room," and with a nod to Rupert, he marched out.

Burgh looked after him with a smile and a shrug: then he turned to Rupert who was moving towards the door. "Can I speak with you?" he asked with a frown.

"Not here Mr. Burgh," cried Ainsleigh, "this is not the place for a quarrel."

"And why not," cried the other, advancing with clenched fists, "I – "

"Keep your distance," said Ainsleigh sharply starting back on his guard, "the attendant is looking on," and he pointed to the man behind the counter who attended to the hats and cloaks.

Burgh tossed him a shilling, "Go and get a drink," he ordered.

"Stop where you are," commanded Rupert, "or I'll report you."

But the man, who was a dissipated-looking waiter pretended not to hear this last remark, and disappeared from behind the counter. The two men were alone, and Burgh spoke first. "I guess I'm going to lay you out," said he, "on account of – "

"Stop," said Rupert, "mention no names."

"I'll mention what I like and Olivia – "

Ainsleigh let drive before he could finish the word and in a second Burgh was sprawling on the floor. He rose with an oath and slipped round his right hand. "You draw a revolver and I'll break your neck," panted Rupert, "you bully, what do you mean by – "

Burgh drew his hand away – perhaps he was afraid a shot would bring in others to see the fray. But he dashed again at the young man. A short struggle ensued, which ended in Burgh being thrown again. Then Rupert, disinclined for a vulgar row, walked away. He stopped at the door to give his antagonist a bit of advice. "You touch me again," he said, "and I'll hand you over to the police after giving you a good thrashing. It's what a bully like you deserves. And if you dare to speak to Miss Rayner I'll make Marport too hot to hold you." When Rupert vanished, Burgh raised himself slowly and with an evil smile. "Perhaps the place will be too hot for you my fine gentleman," he said savagely, and began to think.

Meanwhile Rupert went to the ball-room and saw that Olivia was dancing with Dr. Forge. Chris Walker told him that Miss Wharf had gone on to the balcony for the fresh air. Miss Pewsey was not to be seen or Rupert would have told her to look after her disreputable relative in the cloak-room. The young man thought he would go up to the Major's room and have a smoke, when he felt a light touch on his shoulder. There stood Tung-yu.

"Excuse me sir," said the Chinaman in his excellent English, "I am your friend. Major Tidman and Dr. Forge are your enemies, and you have a third enemy in that young man Burgh."

"But how do you know – " began Rupert.

Tung-yu bent forward and whispered. "I know how your father died," he said softly and before Rupert could detain him, he vanished.

But Ainsleigh waited but for a moment. The speech was so surprising, that he determined to learn more. At once he ran after the Chinaman but could not see him. In spite of his noticeable clothes, he was swallowed up in the crowd and Rupert plunged into the gay throng determined to find the man who could solve the mystery of Markham Ainsleigh's death.

The night wore on and the fun became fast and furious. Towards twelve the guests began to depart, but many choice spirits declared they would keep the ball rolling till dawn. One of these was Chris Walker, who had imbibed more champagne than was good for him. While he talked excitedly Miss Pewsey came to him hastily. "Where is my dear Sophia?" she asked, I can't find her, and with her delicate health it is time she was home in bed."

"I have not seen her. Have you, Dr. Forge?"

The lean doctor shook his head, "I have been in the card room for the last hour," he said, "and as Miss Wharf's doctor I assuredly say, she should go home, there's midnight," and as he spoke the strokes boomed from a tall clock in the hall.

"Clarence, have you seen her?" asked Miss Pewsey of the buccaneer who had Olivia on his arm.

"No! I've just been waltzing with Miss Rayner."

"Then you Mr. Ainsleigh?"

"I have been smoking on the balcony," said Rupert, who looked tired.

"Oh, dear me," said Miss Pewsey wringing her hands, "I wonder if dear Sophia has gone to see Major Tidman. She is so kind-hearted and he is ill – at least he says he is. Did he tell you Clarence?"

"I saw him only for a minute and he went back to his room I guess."

"Then Sophia must have gone there," cried Miss Pewsey and hurried away. Olivia followed with Forge as she thought also, that her aunt ought to go home, and Clarence's attentions were becoming so embarrassing that she feared there would be trouble with Rupert. But soon, Miss Pewsey appeared again and said that Miss Wharf was not in the Major's room, nor was the Major there. Taking Olivia and Clarence and Forge, she went to search for the missing lady. Rupert lingered behind as he did not wish to come into contact with the buccaneer.

The hunt proceeded for some time, and every room in the hotel was searched. But Miss Wharf could not be found. Finally everyone – for many of the guests were hunting by this time – , went out on the balcony. Miss Wharf was not there. "Oh, dear me," cried Miss Pewsey, "wherever can she be."

The balcony was searched from end to end. Then one of the guests more venturesome, descended the steps. He gave a cry of horror. "Bring a light," he cried.

Lights were brought and everyone rushed after them. Half way down the steps lay Miss Wharf – dead – strangled, and round her throat tightly bound was a yellow and red silk tie.

CHAPTER X

A Mysterious Case

The murder of Miss Sophia Wharf at the Bristol Hotel ball made a great sensation. She had been well-known in Marport, and her many friends were enormously excited that each and everyone of them had been acquainted with a person who had been – as one of them put it – done to death. Also the circumstances of the murder were most extraordinary. It seemed almost incredible that a popular lady should be murdered in so public a place; though many said, that the safety of the assassin lay in the very fact that he had chosen to commit his crime a few yards away from a spot where many people were congregated. But who had killed Miss Wharf and why she was killed in so brutal a manner, no one could understand.

When the local police heard of the assassination, an Inspector with two subordinates took possession of the hotel, and obtained from the manager a list of the guests present at the ball. As these amounted to something like two hundred, it seemed like looking for a needle in a haystack to search for the criminal amongst them. And many of them did not know Miss Wharf even by sight, so it was certain that the task of identifying the assassin would be one of enormous difficulty. And the question was asked on all hands. "What had taken the deceased lady down the little-frequented steps?" The fan was missing – Miss Pewsey noticed that, when she bent over the dead, but the story of the fan was not yet public property.

According to custom the local police communicated with the Treasury, who placed the case in the hands of the Criminal Investigation Department, and thus it came about, that a plain clothes officer – in other words a detective – was sent down to Marport. This individual was called Rogers, and after paying a visit to the Superintendent of the Marport Police Office, he went to Ivy Lodge. Here, everything was gloomy and silent. The body of the unfortunate woman had been brought home, and was laid out for burial. Dr. Forge, who with others had been on the spot at the time of the discovery, examined the corpse, and asserted that the miserable woman must have been murdered just an hour, or half an hour previous. As mid-night was chiming shortly before the discovery of the crime, it can be safely declared – and Dr. Forge did declare this – that Miss Wharf was strangled between eleven and twelve. When the corpse was found it was yet warm. Clarence haunted the Lodge and talked with his aunt, but Olivia kept to her own room.

"Tung-yu did it of course," said Mr. Burgh decisively. "I reckon he came down to get that fan, and grudged giving so much cash for it. I surmise that he lured the old girl to those steps, and then slipped the silk string round her neck."

"The silk tie," said Miss Pewsey whose eyes were very black and glittering, though red round the rims, from weeping.

"How do you know it's a tie?" asked Clarence with a start.

"I know," replied his aunt tightening her thin lips, "and I know to whom the tie belongs. But you say that Tung-yu? – "

"Who else could have scragged the old girl aunt Lavinia. The fan's gone – leastways I didn't see it when we spotted the deader."

Miss Pewsey nodded. "Yes, the fan is gone," she assented, "but if Tung-yu murdered dearest Sophia, he can easily be arrested."

"Oh, I guess not," replied Mr. Burgh easily. "Tung-yu's no slouch, you bet, and didn't intend to lose his prize – "

"The fan?" inquired Miss Pewsey.

"Just so, the fan," replied Clarence imperturbably, "and he's on his way to China by this time."

"Clarence?" Miss Pewsey rose, much excited; then calmed down. "I do not agree with you," said she firmly. "Tung-yu is innocent."

"I'll lay a couple of dollars he isn't, Aunt Lavinia. Do you remember that yacht I pointed out to you last night. Well, t'was a steam deep-sea barky, two hundred tons, Lloyd's measurement I reckon – quite heavy enough to cut round the Cape into Chinese waters. Well, she arrived in the afternoon yesterday and after midnight she lighted out."

"But how do you know Tung-yu was on board?"

"Well, I only size that up," said Clarence musingly. "but it looks to me as though he'd engineered the job. 'Twould be easy I guess for him to have had a boat waiting for him. After he'd killed the old girl and annexed the fan, he could dance down those steps like a two year old and pick up the boat on the beach. Course it's all my fancy," added Burgh modestly, "but I guess I'm right."

"I guess you're not," snapped Miss Pewsey in rather an unlady-like manner, and she rose to shake out her skirts. "I know who killed dearest Sophia," she added, wagging a lean finger at her nephew. "I know who possessed the tie, and I shall hand that man – "

"Who the dickens is he anyhow?"

"Rupert Ainsleigh," replied Miss Pewsey with a grim smile, and left the room, while the buccaneer stared, and then smiled. It was pleasant to think that his rival – as he considered Rupert, – should be in such straits and should be pursued by the vindictive hatred of Miss Pewsey, who would leave no stone unturned to bring about the conviction of young Ainsleigh.

"Well," said the buccaneer with his hands in his pockets. "I guess I'm not taking a hand in this biznai, and it ain't lively round these quarters. I'll git."

And this Mr. Burgh did. When he passed out of the front door, he brushed against a plainly dressed rubicund man with sharp grey eyes who glanced at him inquisitively. However, the stranger said nothing but proceeded to ring the bell. The maid-servant who appeared took him into the drawing-room and carried a card to Miss Pewsey. The name thereon was, Orlando Rodgers, C.I.D.

With this in her hand Miss Pewsey sailed into the drawing-room and looked at the comfortable creature who rose to greet her. "Mr. Orlando Rodgers, C.I.D.?" queried the little old lady.

"Criminal Investigation Department," said the man in a cool voice, and with a sharp glance at the dry drab woman, "I'm in charge of the Wharf Murder Case, and have been sent down by the Treasury. As I have seen the Superintendent and can learn nothing likely to throw light on the subject, I have come to you – a relative?"

"No," answered Miss Pewsey sitting down, in a rigid way. "I am the companion of the late Miss Wharf. Her only relative, down here at all events, is Miss Olivia Rayner."

"Can I see her?"

"I think not – at present. She is in her room weeping. Though why she should display such grief I can't understand," added Miss Pewsey spitefully.

"It's natural in a relative, miss," said the detective looking hard at the withered little face.

Miss Pewsey laughed in a shrill manner, and spoke between her teeth more than ever, emphasising every word as usual. "Oh, dear me, no," said she. "Miss Wharf and Olivia never got on well. The girl hated her aunt, though dearest Sophia – Miss Wharf, you know, sir – brought her up, when she hadn't a shilling or a friend in the world."

"To whom have I the honour of speaking?" asked Rodgers wondering how much of this spiteful speech was true, and seeing plainly enough that the speaker was no friend to the niece.

"I am Lavinia Pewsey," said that lady, "and for years I have been the cherished friend and dearest companion of Sophia. We were at school together, and were – as I may say – like two cherries on one stalk. Anything I can do to avenge her death will be done."

"Punishment by the law, doesn't come under the head of vengeance!"

"It comes under the head of hanging, and I'll be glad to see the rope round his neck."

"Of whom are you talking?" asked Rodgers phlegmatically.

"Of the man who killed my dearest friend."

"Oh. I understood from the Superintendent that the affair was quite a mystery."

"Not to me," snapped Miss Pewsey, "Rupert Ainsleigh strangled her to get the fan."

"What fan?" asked the detective taking out his note-book, "and who is Rupert Ainsleigh?"

Miss Pewsey spread her skirts and folded her hands together in a prim way. "I shall tell you all," she cried, "and please take down all I say. I am prepared to make this statement in a law court."

"Well," said Rodgers moistening his pencil, "you may have to. Now this Mr. Ainsleigh? – "

"Of Royabay, a few miles from Marport," said Miss Pewsey, "quite one of the old families. A nice come down for the Ainsleighs, for the last of them to die on the gallows."

"He is not there yet," said Rodgers dryly, "and may I ask you to speak in a more reasonable way. I see you don't like the man."

"I hate him," Miss Pewsey drew a long breath, "and I hated his father before him, to say nothing of his mother, who was a cat."

"Then your evidence is prejudiced, I fancy."

"Never you mind, Mr. Orlando Rodgers," she replied sharply, "take down what I say, and then you can sift the matter out for yourself. My Sophia was murdered to obtain possession of a fan – "

"What fan?" asked Rodgers again.

Miss Pewsey smiled, and calmly detailed all she had learned from Dr. Forge concerning the fan. "You can ask my nephew, Clarence Burgh, about these things also," she ended, "and Dr. Forge, and Mr. Christopher Walker, who brought the Chinaman Tung-yu to the ball, and – "

"Wait a bit," interrupted the detective, "it appears to me from what you say," he ran a quick eye over his notes, "that the suspicion points to these Chinamen you mention. They advertised, and they wanted the fan. Now Hwei – as I hear from you – was not at the ball, but Tung-yu was. Therefore Tung-yu – "

"Didn't do it," said the little woman. "I don't pretend to understand why Hwei offered death and Tung-yu money for the possession of the fan; nor do I know why this Mandarin, whatever his name may be, is so anxious to get possession of the article. But I know that the fan is gone and that Tung-yu, who did not intend murder, hasn't got it."

"Then who has?"

"Rupert Ainsleigh. He went up about the advertisement and knew all about the fan. I believe he killed my Sophia, and got the fan, so as to sell it for five thousand to Tung-yu – "

"But a gentleman of property wouldn't – "

"A gentleman of property," snorted the old maid smoothing her dress, "why he's head over ears in debt and will lose Royabay before the end of the year on account of the fore-closure of a mortgage. He'd have done anything to get money, and five thousand pounds is not a small amount."

"This is all very well: but I don't see how you connected Mr. Ainsleigh with the crime."

"By means of the silk necktie," said Miss Pewsey with a triumphant smile, and related how Rupert had received the scarf from Olivia, "if he is guiltless how came his silk tie round the throat of Sophia?"

Rodgers was shaken by this piece of evidence. "It looks queer I admit," he said: then added, "I understand that Mr. Ainsleigh is an admirer of Miss Rayner."

"He wants to marry her, and she is in love with him," said Miss Pewsey, "which is an additional reason for the crime."

"I don't understand."

"You're not a sharp man," said the old woman tranquilly, "don't you see that as Miss Rayner inherits dearest Sophia's money, she will get the mortgage also. Then with that, and the five thousand pounds Mr. Ainsleigh would be free from his money-troubles. Well," she added sharply, as the detective rose, "what do you say?"

"Nothing at present. Give me the address of Dr. Forge who, I believe, examined the body, and of your nephew and Mr. Ainsleigh."

Miss Pewsey did this with alacrity and accompanied Rodgers to the door. "Don't spare him," she said venomously, "he's guilty and he shall hang," and she shut the door herself.

"What a spiteful woman," mused Rodgers, leaving Ivy Lodge, "her story is so very explicit that I am inclined to doubt it. She wants this young man scragged. Why?"

He could find no answer to this question, but went on his way to see Clarence Burgh. His interview with the buccaneer was brief, Clarence related the story of the yacht, and set forth his theory of Tung-yu. "Mind," said he, "I don't like Ainsleigh, as he's trying to run the girl I want to hitch longside of. But I guess he didn't scragg the old girl."

"You speak fairer than your aunt," said Rodgers dryly.

Clarence heaved up his right shoulder. "Huh," said he, "if you go by woman's jaw, you'll get on the shoals. Tung-yu scragged the old girl, you bet, and he's on his way to China in that yacht."

"Well, we'll see if we can't stop the yacht. She must coal somewhere. What is her name?"

"The Stormy Petrel," said Clarence, "I got that out of a boatman, who was rowing about her yesterday."

"Did he see any Chinaman on board?"

"No. He didn't see anyone. There didn't appear to be anyone about, or else they were at tea," concluded Clarence ungrammatically.

"Humph," said the detective, noting the name of the yacht, "do you know anything of the silk tie?"

"No. Aunt Lavinia says it belongs to Ainsleigh, but I never saw it till it was round the throat of the old girl. I should like to think he put it there," said Clarence pleasantly, "for I want that chap out of the way; but I believe Tung-yu's the man."

"Perhaps he is. Have you a copy of that advertisement?"

"No. But I reckon Ainsleigh has. Ain't you going to see him?"

Rogers nodded. "Straight away. And I thank you for what you have told me. You want him hanged I presume."

"Well no I reckon not. He's in my way, but I can lay him out on my own, without the lynching biznai."

"You are fairer than your aunt," said the detective once more.

"Go slow. She's only an acid-drop, and you can't size her up, just as an ordinary girl. She was crazy on Markham, the father of this young Ainsleigh, and – "

"And proposes to hang the son to avenge herself on his father. A nice woman, truly. But it seems to me Mr. Burgh that if anyone killed Miss Wharf, Hwei is the man."

"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."