The Fate Joss

CHAPTER XI YAT SOON LEARNS

ONE day had passed. New night had brought its blanketing thickness above the splendid glow of Chinatown. Natives of that bizarre district were abroad; their whispered stir persisted. Talk of the Fate Joss still gripped Chinatown.

For the Chinese knew that the strange idol had actually been seen in Manhattan. They had learned that fact from the newspapers; they had read of Chichester Laudring’s murder and the death of Hoang Fu. The police had identified the giant Chinese wrestler.

Lesser Chinese had died as well; and all had sought the Fate Joss. That was why Chinatown buzzed. Many natives believed that their compatriots had perished in behalf of a cause. Whom they had served, and why? Such factors did not matter.

Mixed with the medley of strollers who traversed Chinatown were blue-uniformed patrolmen. Four times the usual number of police could be observed from the corner of Mott and Pell. The law had recognized the seething undercurrent that might betoken trouble. Officers were on hand in case tumult should begin.

Chinese leaders felt no qualms. Men of intelligence, they could see no cause for factional strife. Good will existed among the Chinese themselves; trouble could start only by the boiling over of individual agitators. Talk of the Fate Joss might arouse fanaticism; if it did, the job of quelling the disturbance would belong to the police. In fact, the leaders of Chinese groups had already assured the law that repressive measures would be welcomed.

One man alone felt grave concern. That was Yat Soon, the arbiter. He had talked with Chinese leaders and had gained their assurance that the whisperings were not to their liking. But none had been able to give him facts concerning the Fate Joss; that was why Yat Soon worried.

He wanted the menace of the Joss removed. So did the important men with whom he had spoken. Since crime had struck, Yat Soon had cause for action; yet he was powerless to move. His one hope involved The Shadow. If the cloaked master had acquired the Fate Joss, all would be well. But Yat Soon had received no word from The Shadow since that one visit in which the arbiter had given his veiled approval of the quest for the Joss.

Seated alone in his inner room, Yat Soon observed the blinking of a signal light. It meant that a visitor had called to see the arbiter. It could not be The Shadow; for this light was sent by an outer guard. It must be some one of importance, however, for only those of recognized status were brought to Yat Soon’s sanctum without preliminary announcement.

Rising from his chair, Yat Soon went to the outer reception room and closed the panel behind him. He was standing there when a beat sounded against the brazen entrance. Yat Soon pressed a switch; the front panel raised and the visitor stepped into the room. Yat Soon was faced by a Chinaman in resplendent crimson robes. He recognized Shan Kwan the Mandarin.

THE arbiter conducted his guest into the inner room. Solemnly, they exchanged courteous greetings. That formality ended, the pair seated themselves. Yat Soon’s bland, inquiring air brought a revealing smile to Shan Kwan’s lips.

“You are right, Yat Soon,” declared the mandarin, solemn despite his expression. “I have come to speak concerning the Fate Joss. There are facts that you must know.”

Yat Soon bowed his wish to hear more.

“I am of old China,” resumed Shan Kwan. “To me, the Fate Joss holds tradition. It is right that the statue should be honored. That is why I sought to gain it. In hope of its arrival, I prepared a place where the Joss might dwell.”

“Until such time when it could be returned to Jehol?”

“Exactly so, Yat Soon. My desire is to serve the Fate Joss. To do its every bidding. Its word has told me that I should give it welcome.” Solemnly, Shan Kwan tapped his forehead.

“Once the Joss has honored my humble dwelling, its word will speak again. Then shall I prepare for its departure; for I am an instrument that serves it.”

Shan Kwan paused. His smile had faded; his present expression was a serious one. Yat Soon saw indications of perplexities within the mandarin’s mind.

“The Fate Joss relies upon human aid,” affirmed Shan Kwan, “and it rewards such effort. Thus have I been taught; thus shall I always believe. Yet the Fate Joss has power of its own. Tradition states that it once returned, of its own accord, to the temple of Je Ho.”

“I have heard of that tradition, Shan Kwan.”

“The ancient power of the Fate Joss, however, depended upon the faith of those who believed in it. That, too, was taught to me, Yat Soon. In China, the Fate Joss controlled the destiny of men. Here in America — where few believe — its power has been limited. Events have proven that, Yat Soon.”

“That, too, would be in keeping with tradition, Shan Kwan.”

The mandarin nodded; his face was pleased. He was experiencing that tactful treatment which had enabled Yat Soon to gain his fame as arbiter.

“The place was prepared,” resumed Shan Kwan. “The Fate Joss did not come to it; though I knew my humble abode would be welcomed by the Joss as a refuge in this strange land. I was troubled, Yat Soon, until I learned of an American who had come among the Chinese. One who knew of the Fate Joss.”

“Raymond Roucard?” inquired Yat Soon.

“Yes,” replied the mandarin. “He was sent to me; I listened to his words. He said that he could gain the Fate Joss for a sum of money, which I paid him.”

“The sum?”

“Many dollars. Fifty thousand.”

Shan Kwan produced a folded paper and handed it to Yat Soon. It was the receipt that Roucard had given for the money. Yat Soon read the paper; then started to return it. Shan Kwan shook his head.

“It was to be destroyed,” he declared. “By myself, once the Fate Joss reached me. But I do not have the Fate Joss. With you, the arbiter, I must leave this receipt. As proof of the facts that I am telling.”

Yat Soon kept the paper. Shan Kwan proceeded.

“ROUCARD did not tell me from whom he meant to buy the Joss,” he stated. “He went forth on his mission. I called him later at his hotel. He declared that he had paid the sum; that the Joss was already at a place called the Calumet Theater. It was my task to bring the Joss, and its War Dogs, to my abode.

“My servants are few, Yat Soon. They are men of China, who seldom leave my habitation. I sent one who spoke but little English, to seek some man who might provide him with a truck and workers. It was late; it was long before my servant could gain the conveyance which he needed. When he reached the place by the theater, the Fate Joss was not there.”

Shan Kwan paused. His face was reminiscent. Slowly, he continued his story.

“I believed in Roucard,” he declared. “Though the man seemed a schemer, I thought of him as an instrument of the Fate Joss. Dawn had arrived; I planned to wait until the next night, hoping that Roucard would visit me again. That day, my servant brought me a newspaper. I learned that Roucard had been slain.”

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.