“Most unfortunate, this thing tonight,” said Chan thoughtfully. “Humbly suggest you be very careful, or everything spoils. Local police come thumping on to scene, not dreaming in their slight brains that murder of Louie are of no importance in the least.”
“Not important, you say?”
“No, indeed. Not when compared to other matters.”
“Well, it was pretty important to Louie, I guess,” said Eden.
“Guess so too. But murder of Louie just like death of parrot—one more dark deed covering up very black deed occurring here before we arrive on mysterious scene. Before parrot go, before Louie make unexpected exit, unknown person dies screaming unanswered cries for help. Who? Maybe in time we learn.”
“Then you think Louie was killed because he knew too much?”
“Just like Tony, yes. Poor Louie very foolish, does not stay in San Francisco when summoned there. Comes with sad blunder back to desert. Most bitterly unwelcome here. One thing puzzles me.”
“Only one thing?” asked Eden.
“One at present. Other puzzles put aside for moment. Louie goes on Wednesday morning, probably before black deed was done. How then does he know? Did act have echo in San Francisco? I am most sad not to have talk with him. But there are other paths to follow.”
“I hope so,” sighed Bob Eden. “But I don’t see them. This is too much for me.”
“Plenty for me too,” agreed Chan. “Pretty quick I go home, lifelong yearning for travel forever quenched. Keep in mind, much better police do not find who killed Louie Wong. If they do our fruit may be picked when not yet ripe. We should handle case. Officers of law must be encouraged off of ranch at earliest possible time, having found nothing.”
“Well, the constable was easy enough,” smiled Eden.
“All looked plenty mysterious to him,” answered Chan, smiling too.
“I sympathized with him in that,” Eden admitted. “But this Captain Bliss probably won’t be so simple. You watch your step, Charlie, or they’ll lock you up.”
Chan nodded. “New experiences crowd close on this mainland,” he said. “Detective-Sergeant Chan a murder suspect. Maybe I laugh at that, when I get home again. Just now, laugh won’t come. A warm good night—”
“Wait a minute,” interrupted Eden. “How about Tuesday afternoon? Madden’s expecting the messenger with the pearls then, and somehow I haven’t a stall left in me.”
Chan shrugged. “Two days yet. Stop the worry. Much may manage to occur before Tuesday afternoon.” He went out softly.
Just as they finished breakfast on Monday morning, a knock sounded on the door of the ranch-house, and Thorn admitted Will Holley.
“Oh,” said Madden sourly. His manner had not improved overnight. “So you’re here again?”
“Naturally,” replied Holley. “Being a good newspaper man, I’m not overlooking the first murder we’ve had round here in years.” He handed a newspaper to the millionaire. “By the way, here’s a Los Angeles morning paper. Our interview is on the front page.”
Madden took it without much interest. Over his shoulder Bob Eden caught a glimpse of the headlines:
Era of Prosperity Due, Says
Famed MagnateP. J. Madden, interviewed on Desert Ranch, predicts Business Boom
Madden glanced idly through the article. When he had finished he said: “In the New York papers, I suppose?”
“Of course,” Holley answered. “All over the country this morning. You and I are famous, Mr. Madden. But what’s this about poor old Louie?”
“Don’t ask me,” frowned Madden. “Some fool bumped him off. Your friend Eden can tell you more than I can.” He got up and strode from the room.
Eden and Holley stared at each other for a moment, then went together into the yard.
“Pretty raw stuff,” remarked Holley. “It makes me hot. Louie was a kindly old soul. Killed in the car, I understand.”
Eden related what had happened. They moved farther away from the house.
“Well, who do you think?” Holley inquired.
“I think Thorn,” Eden answered. “However, Charlie says Louie’s passing was just a minor incident, and it will be better all round if his murderer isn’t found just at present. Of course he’s right.”
“Of course he is. And there isn’t much danger they’ll catch the guilty man, at that. The constable is a helpless old fellow.”
“How about this Captain Bliss?”
“Oh, he’s a big, noisy bluff with a fatal facility for getting the wrong man. The sheriff’s a regular fellow, with brains, but he may not come round. Let’s stroll out and look over the ground where you left the car last night. I’ve got something to slip you, a telegram—from your father, I imagine.”
As they went through the gate the telegram changed hands. Holding it so it could not be seen from the house, Bob Eden read it through.
“Well, Dad says he’s going to put up the bluff to Madden that he’s sending Draycott with the pearls tonight.”
“Draycott?” asked Holley.
“He’s a private detective Dad uses in San Francisco. As good a name as any, I suppose. When Draycott fails to arrive, Dad’s going to be very much upset.” The boy considered for a moment. “I guess it’s about the best he can do—but I hate all this deception. And I certainly don’t like the job of keeping Madden cool. However, something may happen before then.”
They examined the ground where Bob Eden had halted the car while he opened the gate the night before. The tracks of many cars passing in the road were evident—but no sign of any footsteps. “Even my footsteps are gone,” remarked Eden. “Do you suppose it was the wind drifting the sand—”
Holley shrugged. “No,” he said. “It was not. Somebody has been out here with a broom, my boy, and obliterated every trace of footsteps about that car.”
Eden nodded. “You’re right. Somebody—but who? Our old friend Thorn, of course.”
They stepped aside as a car swung by them and entered Madden’s yard.
“There’s Bliss now, with the constable,” Holley remarked. “Well, they get no help from us, eh?”
“Not a bit,” replied Eden. “Encourage them off the ranch at earliest possible moment. That’s Charlie’s suggestion.”
They returned to the yard and waited. Inside the living-room they heard Thorn and Madden talking with the two
