Yat Soon nodded his understanding.
“Ignorant of where the Joss might be,” resumed Shan Kwan, “I could do naught; another night went by. Today, the newspapers have told of Chichester Laudring’s death. They say that he and his servant both spoke of having held the Fate Joss. It was to Laudring that Roucard must have gone.”
“That was also stated, Shan Kwan.”
“Yes, Yat Soon, in the newspaper. Moreover, the police believe, by their finding of the knives, that both Roucard and Laudring were murdered by Hoang Fu.”
“Only Hoang Fu could have delivered such deaths. Hoang Fu was strong. Once his thoughts of gentleness were ended, he became a mighty killer.”
Thus did Yat Soon express his belief in the police report. Shan Kwan’s nod showed that he coincided. But the mandarin had another point that Yat Soon had not considered.
“What of the money?” queried Shan Kwan. “The fifty thousand dollars which I paid to Roucard? It has not been found, Yat Soon.”
The arbiter pressed both hands flat upon the teakwood table that stood before him. His eyes stared at the slip of paper that lay spread between his fingers. He nodded slowly, at sight of Roucard’s receipt.
“One man,” declared Yat Soon, solemnly, “was given money with which to buy the Fate Joss from the other. Roucard went to Laudring one night; yet the next night, the Fate Joss was still with Laudring.
“Perhaps Roucard did not buy. Perhaps he did buy; but Laudring did not send away the Fate Joss. Whichever may be true, the money must have remained with one man or the other. The evildoer who killed both is the one who removed the money.
“It was Hoang Fu who killed. Yet the money did not remain with him; for the police would have found it when they saw Hoang Fu dead at Laudring’s. The money, therefore, had been with Roucard. His words to you — by telephone — were lies, Shan Kwan.”
“YOU have spoken wisely, Yat Soon,” nodded the mandarin. “Yet in the newspapers I have read that the servant of Laudring did swear that the Fate Joss had once been taken away. It had returned, only to be gone again.”
“By some pretext,” decided Yat Soon, “or by some promise, the man Roucard may have caused the man Laudring to yield the Fate Joss. He may have spoken truth concerning that matter.”
“Yet the Joss was not where Roucard said—”
“Because others may have found it there. Others who carried it back to the house of Laudring; to hide it where neither Laudring nor Roucard would expect again to find it. To keep it in a place whereof you knew naught, Shan Kwan.”
The mandarin was impressed by the arbiter’s keen discernment of these hidden facts. Hopefully, he listened while Yat Soon spoke further.
“Upon the one who sent Hoang Fu to deliver death,” declared Yat Soon, “upon that one lies blame of crime. With him will be found those funds of which you have informed me; the money which Hoang Fu stole from Roucard.
“To me, the arbiter, belongs the power to mete justice only when claim of wrong has been brought by one who recognizes my position. You have come here with such claim, Shan Kwan. I shall seek the man whose way is evil.”
“It has come to my ears,” acknowledged Shan Kwan, “that Hoang Fu, the mighty, was servant to one called Doctor Roy Tam.”
“So have I heard,” assured Yat Soon. “But the place where Doctor Tam dwells remains unknown to me. Doctor Tam has left the paths of the Chinese. He does not acknowledge my decisions. I had no quarrel with him because he made that choice; but since his ways are those of crime, I shall seek him, to compel his speech.
“Should he possess the Fate Joss, I shall take it from him. Before me, your claim will be heard, Shan Kwan, with the answer that Doctor Tam may offer. Yet you must hope not for a decision on the morrow, nor the next day after it. Moons may pass before I can bring Doctor Tam hither.”
Worriment showed on Shan Kwan’s features. In encouraging tones, Yat Soon added:
“Of those others who lay dead with Hoang Fu, one was Chang Look, who also served Doctor Tam. The others were unknown to me, as would be many who belonged to Doctor Tam. The search shall begin, Shan Kwan; but it will not be finished early.”
Shan Kwan considered; then spoke.
“There is a way, Yat Soon,” said the mandarin, “whereby someone who is close to Doctor Tam might well be reached. I hold the key to that way. If I may use it—”
“You may do as you see best,” interposed the arbiter. “The claim is yours, Shan Kwan. Those who serve Doctor Tam are not among those who recognize my judgment. While I seek paths, you may do likewise.”
Shan Kwan arose. With a profound bow, the resplendent mandarin acknowledged his thanks of Yat Soon’s favor. His face, though solemn, showed pleasure as Yat Soon conducted him out through the reception chamber.
Just claim had been made, with evidence. Yat Soon, the arbiter of Chinatown, had been stirred to action by the statements of Shan Kwan the Mandarin. Doctor Roy Tam, though he did not hold the Fate Joss, would soon be sought to answer for the crimes of his dead servant, Hoang Fu.
CHAPTER XII
THE CRAFT OF DOCTOR TAM
WHILE Yat Soon, the arbiter, was still pondering on the facts presented by the mandarin, Shan Kwan, two men were guarding the Fate Joss in its obscure abode. Harry Vincent and Cliff Marsland, on duty since six o’clock, were together in that little side room that adjoined the abandoned garage.
The evening was still young. As The Shadow’s agents kept vigil, they chatted. At times, their talk concerned the Fate Joss. That subject came up suddenly after a lull in conversation. Harry Vincent mentioned it after noticing an item in the final edition of an evening newspaper that he had purchased before coming here.
“Look at this, Cliff!” Harry pointed to a paragraph. “The police have been getting all sorts of rumors about that Chinese truck. Half a dozen persons have reported that they saw a truck last night. Some say Chinese were aboard; others were not sure. But they all talk of a truck near Laudring’s.”
“What of it?” queried Cliff. “There might have been a hundred suspicious looking trucks along the avenue last night. We passed a bunch when we were bringing in the Fate Joss.”
“Not trucks on side streets, Cliff. Of course these reports are exaggerated. The way they read, you’d think that half of Chinatown had gone into the trucking business. These people who talked to the police may have been mistaken as to the time they saw a truck. But I’m wondering—”
“If somebody spotted our truck coming away from that street in back of Laudring’s?”
“You’ve guessed it, Cliff. It may mean trouble if the police begin checking up on trucks at different garages.”
“That’s possible, Harry. Still — the Howland Garage is thirty blocks south of Laudring’s. That truck we used is—”
Cliff stopped. The telephone was ringing. Harry answered it. Cliff heard him talk in brief, affirmative phrases. The call completed, Harry eyed Cliff solemnly.
“It was Burbank,” stated Harry. “The police are starting a check-up on trucks. They figure there was more than one up at Laudring’s. Clyde Burke must have gotten that dope at headquarters.”
“Any instructions?” queried Cliff.
“Yes,” returned Harry. “We’re to leave here as soon as my coupe comes in. We’ll go to the Howland Garage and get the truck. But it’s to be done openly, so there’ll be no suspicion.”
“Where are we taking it?”
“Up to Scranton, Pennsylvania, to deliver it to a garage there. The truck has been sold to some coal mining outfit. We’ll come back by train, tomorrow afternoon.”