Chinese -- England -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
"Ugh!" grunted the Major again, "don't talk about it. It makes me cold
to think of it. The Chinese are demons. Forge got me out of the trouble
and I left China never to set foot in it again I hope. Ainsleigh, if you
want that curse of yours to be realised, meddle with the fan. But if you
want to keep your life and your skin, leave the matter alone."
"I'm going to get that five thousand pounds," said Rupert, obstinately,
"as soon as I can recollect where I saw that fan. The memory will come
back to me. I am sure it will. Doctor you won't help me."
"No," said Forge decisively. "I advise you to leave the matter alone."
"In that case I must search it out myself. Good-day," and Ainsleigh
strolled out of the room, lightheartedly enough, as he whistled a gay
tune. Major Tidman looked grimly at the closed door, and then still more
grimly at the doctor, who was paring his nails.
"Our young friend is ambitious," he said.
Forge laughed gently. "You can hardly blame him. He wants to marry Miss
Rayner and save his ancestral home, so I am quite sure he will search
for the fan."
"He won't find it then," said the Major petulantly.
"Won't he?" questioned Forge sweetly, "well, perhaps not. By the way you
want to see me Major. Mrs. Bressy tells me you called at least twice
yesterday."
"Yes. She didn't know when you would be back."
"I never tell her. I like to take the old lady unawares. She is a
Dickens' character, with a fondness for drink, and for taking things
which don't belong to her. I always go away and come back unexpectedly.
Yesterday I was in Paris. Now I am at Marport. Well?"
The Major had contained himself with difficulty all this time, and had
grown very red in the face. The colour changed to a lively purple, as he
burst out. "See here Forge what's the use of talking to me in this way.
You have that fan."
"Have I," said Forge smiling gently.
"Yes. You know well enough that the very fan--the jade fan with the five
beads, was the cause of my getting into trouble in Canton. You got me
out of the trouble and you asked me to give you the fan, when I thanked
you."
"And you refused," said Forge still smiling.
"Well I did at first," said Tidman sulkily. "I risked my life over the
beastly thing, and--"
Forge raised a thin hand. "Spare yourself the recital. I know."
"Well then," went on Tidman excitedly. "You asked again for it when you
came home, and I gave it to you. Ainsleigh is quite right. He _did_ see
the fan. I showed it to him one day before you arrived. I see he has
forgotten, but any stray thought may revive his memory. I don't want him
to have the fan."
"Why not?" asked Forge shutting his knife with a click.
"Because I want the five thousand pounds for myself. I'm not so well off
as people think, and I want--"
"You forget," said Forge gently, "you gave me the fan."
"And have you got it?"
"I have," he nodded towards a cabinet of Chinese work adorned with
quaint figures, "it's in there."
"Give it to me back."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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