Chinese -- England -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
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 midnight 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."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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