“Who was that with Flannery?” panted Bill Rankin.
“It has happened as I telephoned from the hotel,” Charlie answered. “We have our man.”
“Major Durand?”
“The same.”
“Good enough. I’ll have a flash on the street in twenty minutes. You certainly kept your promise.”
“Old habit with me,” Chan told him.
“And how about Beetham?”
Chan glanced into the dark cab. “Nothing to do with the matter. We were on wrong trail there.”
“Too bad,” Rankin said. “Well, I’m off. I’ll be back later for details. Thanks a thousand times.”
Chan inserted his broad bulk into the taxi, and they started for the Kirk Building.
“May I express humble hope,” remarked the little detective to Kirk, “that I am forgiven for my crime. I refer to my delay in mailing to Major Durand your letter containing guest card for Cosmopolitan Club.”
“Oh, surely,” Kirk told him.
“It chanced I was not yet ready he should walk inside the club,” Chan added.
“Well, I’m knocked cold,” Kirk said. “You must have had your eye on him for some time.”
“I will explain with all my eloquence later. Just now I content myself with admitting this—Major Durand was one person in all the world who did not want Eve Durand discovered.”
“But in heaven’s name—why not?” Kirk asked.
“Alas, I am no miracle man. It is a matter I hope will be apparent later. Perhaps Colonel Beetham can enlighten us.”
The Colonel’s voice was cool and even in the darkness. “I’m a bit weary of lying,” he remarked. “I could enlighten you. But I won’t. You see, I have made a promise. And like yourself, Sergeant, I prefer to keep my promises.”
“We have many commendable points in common.”
Beetham laughed. “By the way—that was extremely decent of you—telling the reporter I wasn’t concerned in this affair.”
“Only hope,” responded Chan, “that events will justify my very magnanimous act.”
They alighted before the Kirk Building and rode up to the bungalow. Paradise had admitted Flannery and Duff with their prisoner.
“Here you are,” said Flannery briskly. “Now, Mr. Kirk—let’s have that key.”
Kirk stepped to his desk and produced Sir Frederic’s keys. The Captain, with Duff close at his side hastened to open the case. Charlie dropped down on the edge of a chair, his intent little eyes on Major Durand. The Major was seated in a corner of the room, his head bowed, his gaze fixed on the rug.
“By George,” cried Duff. “It’s Sir Frederic’s case, right enough. And here—yes—here is what we have been looking for.” He took out a typewritten sheaf of paper. “Here are his records in the matter of Eve Durand.”
The Inspector began to read eagerly. Flannery turned to Durand.
“Well, Major—this settles your hash. Where did you get the check for this briefcase?”
Durand made no reply. “I will answer for him,” Charlie said. “He extracted same from the purse of Sir Frederic the night he killed that splendid gentleman.”
“Then you visited San Francisco once before, Major?” Flannery persisted.
Still Durand did not so much as raise his eyes.
“Naturally he did,” Chan grinned. “Captain Flannery, at any moment reporters will burst upon you desiring to learn how you captured this dangerous man. Would it not be better if I told you so you will be able to make intelligent reply?” Flannery glared at him. “The matter will demand your close attention. I search about, wondering where to begin.”
Duff looked up. “I suggest you start with the moment when you first suspected Durand,” he said, and returned to his perusal of the records.
Chan nodded. “It was here in this room, same night when Durand arrived. Have you ever heard, Captain—do not fear, it is not old saying this time. Have you ever heard Chinese are psychic people? It is true. A look, a gesture, a tone of voice—something goes click inside. I hear Mr. Kirk say to the Major he will send guest card for club or two. And from the sudden warmth of the Major’s reply, I obtain my psychic spasm of warning. At once I ask myself, has the Major special interest in San Francisco clubs? It would seem so. Is he, then, the man we seek? No, he can not be. Not if he came entire distance from New York with good Inspector Duff.
“But—I advise myself—pause here and ponder, What has Inspector Duff said on this point? He has said that when he got off Twentieth Century in Chicago, he discovered Major had been on same train. I put an inquiry to myself. Has this clever man, Duff, for once in his life been hoodwinked? Inspector does me high honor to invite to dinner. During the feast, I probe about. I politely inquire, did he with his own eyes see Major Durand on board Twentieth Century while train was yet speeding between New York and Chicago? No, he did not. He saw him first in Chicago station. Durand assures him he was on identical train Inspector has just left. He announces he, too, is on way to San Francisco. They take, that same night, train bound for coast.
“The matter, then, is possible. Men have been known to double back on own tracks. Study of time elapsed since murder reveals Major may have been doing this very thing. I begin to think deep about Durand. I recall that at luncheon when Sir Frederic tells us of Eve Durand case, he makes curious omission which I noted at the time. He says that when he is planning to go to Peshawar to look into Eve Durand matter, he calls on Sir George Mannering, the woman’s uncle. Yet husband is living in England, and he would know much more about the affair than uncle would. Why, then, did not Sir Frederic interrogate the husband? I find there food for thought.
“All time I am wondering about Cosmopolitan Club yearbook, which hand of Sir Frederic drops on floor at dying moment. Mr. Kirk kindly takes me to lunch at club, and checks a briefcase. I note check for coat is of metal, but briefcase check is of cardboard, with name of
