Free Behind That Curtain by Earl Der Biggers

won’t double back over her tracks. However, I want the name and address of every one of you.” He turned to Mrs. Kirk. “I’ll start with you.”
    She stiffened at his tone. “You’re very flattering, I’m sure. I am Mrs. Dawson Kirk.” She added her address.
    â€œYou.” Flannery turned to the explorer.
    â€œColonel John Beetham. I am a visitor in the city, stopping at the Fairmont.”
    Flannery went on down the list. When he had finished, he added:
    â€œAnyone got any light to throw on this affair? If you have, better give it to me now. Things’ll be a lot pleasanter all round than if I dig it up for myself later.” No one spoke. “Some lady saw a man running down the fire-escape,” he prompted.
    â€œOh—I did,” said Eileen Enderby. “I’ve been all over that with Miss Morrow. I had gone out into the garden—” Again she related her experience.
    â€œWhat’d this man look like?” demanded Flannery.
    â€œI couldn’t say. A very dim figure in the fog.”
    â€œAll right. You can all go now. I may want to see some of you later.” Flannery strode past them into the garden.
    One by one they said their strained farewells and departed—Mrs. Kirk and her companion, Miss Gloria Garland, then the Enderbys, and finally the explorer. Charlie Chan also got his hat and coat, while Miss Morrow watched him inquiringly.
    â€œUntil dark deed shaded the feast,” said Chan, “the evening was an unquestioned joy. Mr. Kirk—”
    â€œOh, but you’re not leaving,” cried Miss Morrow. “Please. I want to have a talk with you.”
    â€œTomorrow I am sea-going man,” Chan reminded her. “The experience weakens me considerably. I have need of sleep, and relaxing—”
    â€œI’ll keep you only a moment,” she pleaded, and Chan nodded.
    Captain Flannery appeared from the garden. “Dark out there,” he announced. “But if I’m not mistaken, anyone could have reached the floor below by way of the fire-escape. Is that right?”
    â€œUndoubtedly,” replied Kirk.
    â€œAn important discovery,” approved Chan. “On the gown of one of the lady guests were iron rust stains, which might have been suffered by—But who am I to speak thus to keen man like the Captain? You made note of the fact, of course?”
    Flannery reddened. “I—I can’t say I did. Which lady?”
    â€œThat Mrs. Enderby, who witnessed fleeing man. Do not mention it, sir. So happy to be of slightest service.”
    â€œLet’s go back downstairs,” growled Flannery. On the floor below, he stood for a long moment, looking about. “Well, I got to get busy here.”
    â€œI will say farewell,” remarked Chan.
    â€œGoing, eh?” said Flannery, with marked enthusiasm.
    â€œGoing far,” smiled Chan. “Tomorrow I am directed toward Honolulu. I leave you to the largest problem of your life, Captain. I suffer no envy for you.”
    â€œOh, I’ll pull through,” replied Flannery.
    â€œOnly the witless could doubt it. But you will travel a long road. Consider. Who is great man silent now on couch? A famous detective with a glorious record. The meaning of that? A thousand victories—and a thousand enemies. All over broad world are scattered men who would do him into death with happy hearts. A long road for you, Captain. You have my warmest wishes for bright outcome. May you emerge in the shining garments of success.”
    â€œThanks,” said Flannery.
    â€œOne last point. You will pardon me if I put in final oar.” He took up from the table a little yellow book, and held it out. “Same was at the dead man’s elbow when he fell.”
    Flannery nodded. “I know. The Cosmopolitan Club book. It can’t mean a damn thing.”
    â€œMaybe. I am stupid Chinese from tiny island. I know nothing. But if