The Greatest Works of Earl Derr Biggers (Illustrated Edition). Earl Derr Biggers

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СКАЧАТЬ same from me," Chan smiled. "You have noted the name of the author of these volumes." He read off the titles. "Across China and Back. Wanderings in Persia. A Year in the Gobi Desert. Tibet, the Top of the World. My Life as an Explorer." His eyes narrowed as he looked at Kirk. "All the work of our good friend, Colonel Beetham. No other books amid Sir Frederic's luggage. Does it not strike you as strange, his keen interest in one solitary author?"

      "It certainly does," agreed Kirk. "I wonder—"

      "I have never ceased to wonder. When I look into deep eyes of the lonely explorer last night, I ask myself, what make of man is this? No sooner is Sir Frederic low on the floor than my thoughts fly back to that mysterious face. So cold, so calm, but who knows with what hot fires beneath." He selected one enormous volume, the Life. "I feel called upon to do some browsing amid Sir Frederic's modest library. I will advance first on this, which will grant me bird's-eye look over an adventurous career."

      "A good idea," Kirk nodded.

      Before Chan could settle to his reading, the bell rang and Paradise admitted Mrs. Dawson Kirk. She came in as blithely as a girl.

      "Hello, Barry. Mr. Chan, I rather thought I'd find you here. Didn't sail after all, did you?"

      Chan sighed. "I have encountered some difficulty in bringing vacation to proper stop. History is a grand repeater."

      "Well, I'm glad of it," said Mrs. Kirk. "They'll need you here. Frightful thing, this is. And to think, Barry, it happened in your building. The Kirks are not accustomed to scandal. I never slept a wink all night."

      "I'm sorry to hear it," her grandson said.

      "Oh, you needn't be. Not sleeping much anyhow, of late. Seems I got all my sleeping done years ago. Well, what's happened? Have they made any progress?"

      "Not much," Kirk admitted.

      "How could they? That stupid police captain—he annoyed me. No subtlety. Sally Jordan's boy here will show him up."

      "Humbly accept the flattery," Chan bowed.

      "Flattery—rot. The truth, nothing else. Don't you disappoint me. All my hopes are pinned on you."

      "By the way," said Kirk, "I'm glad you came alone. How long has that woman—Mrs. Tupper-Brock—been with you?"

      "About a year. What's she got to do with it?"

      "Well—what do you know about her?"

      "Don't be a fool, Barry. I know everything. She's all right."

      "You mean all her past is an open book to you?"

      "Nothing of the sort. I never asked about it. I didn't have to. I'm a judge of people. One look—that's enough for me."

      Kirk laughed. "What a smart lady. As a matter of fact, you don't know a thing about her, do you?"

      "Oh, yes I do. She's English—born in Devonshire."

      "Devonshire, eh?"

      "Yes. Her husband was a clergyman—you'd know that by her starved look. He's dead now."

      "And that's the extent of your knowledge?"

      "You're barking up the wrong tree—but you would. A nice boy, but never very clever. However, I didn't come here to discuss Helen Tupper-Brock. It has just occurred to me that I didn't tell all I knew last night."

      "Concealing evidence, eh?" smiled Kirk.

      "I don't know—it may be evidence—probably not. Tell me—have they dug up any connection between Sir Frederic and that little Mrs. Enderby?"

      "No, they haven't. Have you?"

      "Well—it was just after the pictures started. I went out into the kitchen—"

      "You would."

      "My throat was dry. I didn't see any water in the living-room. But what could I expect in a man-run house? In the passageway I came upon Sir Frederic and Mrs. Enderby engaged in what appeared to be a quite serious talk."

      "What were they saying?"

      "I'm no eavesdropper. Besides, they stopped suddenly when I appeared, and remained silent until I had gone by. When I returned a few moments later, both were gone."

      "Well, that may be important," Kirk admitted. "Perhaps not. Odd, though— Sir Frederic told me he had never met Mrs. Enderby when he suggested I invite the pair to dinner. I'll turn your information over to Miss Morrow."

      "What's Miss Morrow got to do with it?" snapped the old lady.

      "She's handling the case for the district attorney's office."

      "What! You mean to say they've put an important case like this in the hands of—"

      "Calm yourself. Miss Morrow is a very intelligent young woman."

      "She couldn't be. She's too good-looking."

      "Miracles happen," laughed Kirk.

      His grandmother regarded him keenly. "You look out for yourself, my boy."

      "What are you talking about?"

      "The Kirk men always did have a weakness for clever women—the attraction of opposites, I presume. That's how I came to marry into the family."

      "You don't happen to have an inferiority complex about you, do you?"

      "No, sir. That's one thing the new generation will never be able to pin on me. Well, go ahead and tell Miss Morrow about Eileen Enderby. But I fancy the important member of the investigating committee has heard it already. I'm speaking of Mr. Chan." She rose. "I wrote Sally Jordan this morning that I'd met you," she went on, to the detective. "I said I thought the mainland couldn't spare you just yet."

      Chan shrugged. "Mainland enjoys spectacle of weary postman plodding on his holiday walk," he replied. "No offense is carried, but I am longing for Hawaii."

      "Well, that's up to you," remarked Mrs. Kirk bluntly. "Solve this case quickly and run before the next one breaks. I must go along. I've a club meeting. That's what my life's come to—club meetings. Barry, keep me posted on this thing. First excitement in my neighborhood in twenty years. I don't want to miss any of it."

      Kirk let her out, and returned to the living-room. The quick winter dusk was falling, and he switched on the lights.

      "All of which," he said, "brings little Eileen into it again. She did seem a bit on edge last night—even before she saw that man on the fire-escape. If she really did see him. I'll put Miss Morrow on her trail, eh?"

      Chan looked up from his big book, and nodded without interest. "All you can do."

      "She doesn't intrigue you much, does she?" Kirk smiled.

      "This Colonel Beetham," responded Chan. "What a man!"

      Kirk looked at his watch. "I'm sorry, but I'm dining to-night at the Cosmopolitan Club, with a friend. I made the engagement several days ago."

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