Free Behind That Curtain by Earl Der Biggers Page A

this was my case I would think about book, Captain Flannery. I would arouse in the night to think about it. Good-by, and all good wishes already mentioned.”
    He made a deep bow, and went through the reception room into the hall. Kirk and the girl followed swiftly. The latter put her hand on Chan’s arm.
    â€œSergeant—you mustn’t,” she cried despairingly. “You can’t desert me now. I need you.”
    â€œYou rip my heart to fragments,” he replied. “However, plans are set.”
    â€œBut poor Captain Flannery—all this is far beyond him. You know more about the case than he does. Stay, and I’ll see that you’re given every facility—”
    â€œThat’s what I say,” put in Barry Kirk. “Surely you can’t go now. Good lord, man, have you no curiosity?”
    â€œThe bluest hills are those farthest away,” Chan said. “Bluest of all is Punchbowl Hill, where my little family is gathered, waiting for me—”
    â€œBut I was depending on you,” pleaded the girl. “I must succeed—I simply must. If you would stay—”
    Chan drew away from her. “I am so sorry. Postman on his holiday, they tell me, takes long walk. I have taken same, and I am weary. So very sorry—but I return to Honolulu tomorrow.” The elevator door was open. Chan bowed low. “The happiest pleasure to know you both. May we meet again. Good-by.”
    Like a grim, relentless Buddha he disappeared below. Kirk and the girl reentered the office, Captain Flannery was eagerly on the hunt.
    Chan walked briskly through the fog to the Stewart Hotel. At the desk the clerk handed him a cable, which he read with beaming face. He was still smiling when, in his room, the telephone rang. It was Kirk.
    â€œLook here,” Kirk said. “We made the most astonishing discovery in the office after you left.”
    â€œPleased to hear it,” Chan replied.
    â€œUnder the desk—a pearl from Gloria Garland’s necklace!”
    â€œOpening up,” said Chan, “a new field of wonderment. Hearty congratulations.”
    â€œBut see here,” Kirk cried, “aren’t you interested? Won’t you stay and help us get at the bottom of this?”
    Again that stubborn look in Charlie’s eyes. “Not possible. Only a few minutes back I have a cable that calls me home with unbearable force. Nothing holds me on the mainland now.”
    â€œA cable? From whom?”
    â€œFrom my wife. Glorious news. We are now in receipt of our eleventh child—a boy.”

Chapter 5

THE VOICE IN THE NEXT ROOM
    Charlie Chan rose at eight the next morning, and as he scraped the stubble of black beard from his cheeks, he grinned happily at his reflection in the glass. He was thinking of the small, helpless boy-child who no doubt at this moment lay in the battered old crib on Punchbowl Hill. In a few days, the detective promised himself, he would stand beside that crib, and the latest Chan would look up to see, at last, his father’s welcoming smile.
    He watched a beetle-browed porter wheel his inexpensive little trunk off on the first leg of its journey to the Matson docks, and then neatly placed his toilet articles in his suitcase. With jaunty steps he went down to breakfast.
    The first page of the morning paper carried the tragic tale of Sir Frederic’s passing, and for a moment Chan’s eyes narrowed. A complicated mystery, to be sure. Interesting to go to the bottom of it—but that was the difficult task of others. Had it been his duty, he would have approached it gallantly, but, from his point of view, the thing did not concern him. Home—that alone concerned him now.
    He laid the paper down, and his thoughts flew back to the little boy in Honolulu. An American citizen, a future boy scout under the American flag, he should have an American name. Chan hadfelt himself greatly attracted to his genial host of the