The Green God

The kneeling priest rose to his feet with a glad cry, and, holding the image reverently in the hollow of his two hands, advanced toward the altar, the others crowding closely about him. Arrived at the shrine, he placed the figure carefully upon its pedestal within the golden casket, and, as the light of many candles fell full upon it, the whole crowd knelt down and began a weird sing-song prayer, that must have been a chant of joy, or some service of purification, now that their long-lost deity had been returned to them. Presently the strange sounds died away, and the various Chinamen placed offerings of fruit, flowers and food upon the altar. At length the priest rose, and faced us. The service was over. I had a feeling that our turn was now to come.

The tall, gaunt figure came close to us, and examined both our faces minutely. I fancy he was the same priest that Ashton had all but done for in Ping Yang, and, from his look of intense hatred and ferocity, I feel sure that, had he recognized McQuade or myself as either his assailant, or Major Temple, our moments in this life would have been numbered. He must of course have heard of Ashton's death, but no doubt he wanted to make sure that Ashton was actually the man who had so nearly strangled him. After completing his scrutiny of our far from happy faces, he drew back, and in answer apparently to the questions of his followers shook his head vigorously. Then ensued a heated altercation between himself and part of the Chinamen on the one hand and the remainder of the crowd on the other, the subject of which, I could plainly see, was the fate of the detective and myself. At last they all turned back to the altar, and the priest took from it two pieces of wood, slightly curved, some four or five inches long, and shaped not unlike the half of a banana, if it were cut in two lengthwise: that is, round on one side and flat upon the other. I saw that they were the Chinese luck sticks, which the petitioner casts before the altar, wishing as he does so, for that prayer which he desires the god to grant him. If the sticks fall with the flat sides of both upward, he is lucky – his prayer is granted; if with the flat sides of both downward, his prayer is refused. If one stick falls each way, there is no decision and the trial is made again. As the priest took up these sticks from the altar, a gleam of comprehension passed over the faces of the crowd about him. Several of their number sprang forward and, seizing us by the arms, dragged us before the altar. It was evidently their intention to leave the matter of our fate in the hands of the Buddha, and, as I glanced at the peaceful and beneficent face of the image before me, I wondered whether he, or blind luck, would control our destinies.

McQuade they took first. He was led directly in front of the altar, and the two sticks, placed with the flat sides, together, were put into his hands. He was then directed, by signs and a few muttered English words, to cast them upon the slab before the altar. He did so, not in the least understanding, I felt sure, what it was all about, and in a moment the hardwood sticks clattered before the altar. I leaned forward anxiously and looked at them. The flat sides of both were upward. McQuade was safe. The Chinamen thrust him aside angrily, and bent upon me their angry glances. I was pushed forward by many hands, and the luck sticks forced into my unwilling fingers. I had never thought much about death, and now it approached me in all its grisly terrors. McQuade had been spared my agony, for I felt sure he did not know the meaning of the ceremony through which he had just passed. He had thrown dice with death, and won, and yet he did not know it. But, to me, the trial came in all its horrible reality. I knew that upon the fall of those bits of wood depended my life, that within a few seconds of time I would either be free, or condemned to die by one of those unspeakably horrible means that only the Chinese understand and delight in. Their deity had been profaned and they wanted a victim, and, if his down-turned thumb claimed me as a sacrifice, I knew that no power on earth could save me. I shook with nervous dread – not so much through fear of death itself as of the manner of dying. My hands trembled; I could scarcely keep the sticks from falling to the floor. Presently I pulled myself together and determined to put a brave face upon the matter. The Chinamen about me were evidently enjoying my sufferings keenly as I could see from the diabolic grins upon their dark faces. I threw the sticks from me with a quick nervous movement, and then almost feared to look upon them. At last I did so, and what I saw was almost as bad as what I feared to see. Instead of the two flat sides of the sticks being uppermost, they lay one each way, and I was forced to throw again. The Chinese were evidently delighted. Any method of torture which is prolonged seems to please them beyond measure. I have heard that one of the most terrible they have invented is that of keeping a prisoner awake. For days and days sleep is prevented – the victim ultimately goes raving mad.

I determined to end the matter at once. My nerves were too much shaken to prolong the agony. I cast the sticks again upon the altar slab and bent over them with a prayer to God. One stick fell at once with its flat side uppermost. The other rolled over and over until it rested almost at the Buddha's feet. At last it trembled, half turned over, then stopped. It, like the other, gave the favorable sign. I was saved. In the sudden relief from the nervous tension I almost fell, but the Chinamen, cheated of their revenge, gave me no time for any such exhibitions of emotion. McQuade and I were seized, and in a few moments our arms were tightly bound behind us, and heavy bags similar to the one I had worn were placed over our heads. We were then roughly hurried through a series of rooms, once crossing what seemed to be a brick-paved court, which was undoubtedly in the open air, from the sudden change of temperature I experienced; then for an interminable distance through what seemed to be dark, narrow lanes and muddy streets, until at last our hoods were removed, our feet bound, and we were thrown into a narrow area way, some cotton waste being jammed into each of our mouths to prevent our making any outcry. Here we were discovered at daybreak, some four or five hours later, nearly frozen to death, by a watchman, who released us from our bonds and, upon hearing from Sergeant McQuade who he was, hastened to find us a cab.

Our first step after it came was to drive to the nearest public house and get each a steaming drink of hot brandy, after which we ate a hasty breakfast. The detective, who seemed thoughtful and little inclined to talk, then drove at once to Number 30, Kingsgate Street, and, finding his two men still on duty, ordered them to enter the house. The bell was first rung several times without any response, and then McQuade and his men burst in the door. There were no lights within, and, when the long-closed shutters were at last forced open, it was seen at once that the house was completely unfurnished. We descended into the cellar, but found no signs of occupancy anywhere. The place had evidently been long closed. McQuade looked about in perplexity. Evidently there was a tunnel somewhere, leading from this house to some other in the neighborhood, or else the Chinamen had boldly carried us out through the backyard and into some house adjoining. The Sergeant explained the case to his men, ordered them to return to Scotland Yard, obtain a relief and investigate every house in the block, and even those on the opposite side of the street, since a tunnel might as well have led in that direction as any other. Personally I felt no great interest in the capture of the Chinamen. They had the emerald Buddha, it is true, but they had a better right to it than ever Ashton had, I fancy, and, now that he was dead, it seemed useless to bring trouble upon his relatives, in case he had any, by placing in their hands so dangerous an article. I was infinitely more concerned in determining who was responsible for Robert Ashton's death, and I could not see that the events of the evening had thrown much light upon it. I left McQuade and returned to my studio, agreeing to meet him there at three the same afternoon, and return to The Oaks with him. Just why he intended returning there, or why he wished me to accompany him, I did not then see, but I was only too glad of an opportunity again to see Miss Temple. The detective seemed especially serious and taciturn, and, in reply to my questions as to the two Chinamen from Exeter, he informed me that they knew nothing of the matter and had been discharged. I went back to my studio in rather an unpleasant frame of mind, took a hot bath, and slept until luncheon.

CHAPTER VIII

INSPECTOR BURNS' CONCLUSIONS

I was sitting in my studio, at about half-past two that afternoon, awaiting McQuade's arrival, when a messenger boy dashed up to my door and handed me a telegram. I examined the pink slip with some curiosity, but no great interest, when, glancing, as is my habit, at the signature first, I was astounded to see that it was from Miss Temple. It was as follows:

"Police have discovered weapon in your room wrapped in your handkerchief.

"Muriel Temple."

So strong is the consciousness of innocence that even after reading this telegram I had no thought of what this new discovery might portend to me. It was strange, I thought, that I had forgotten the thing. But I remembered now that, when I first found it, Sergeant McQuade was in Exeter, and, when he returned, the entire evening until a late hour was taken up with Major Temple's account of his and Ashton's adventures in China. The next morning the coroner's inquest occupied all my thoughts, and then came Li Min's arrest and our hurried departure for London. Since then, I had had no opportunity to converse at any length with the detective. I laid the telegram open upon the table, thinking that, if the Scotland Yard man did not already know of the discovery, I would be able to inform him of it on his arrival.

He came on the stroke of three, and with him was a burly, deep-chested, ruddy-faced man, with twinkling eyes and iron-gray whiskers, whom he introduced to me as Inspector Burns, of Scotland Yard. I bade them be seated, and offered cigars, which they refused. Both seemed a trifle constrained, I thought. The Sergeant began the conversation.

"I have brought Inspector Burns with me," he said, slowly; "he wants to ask you a few questions."

I turned to the Inspector and smiled. I was quite ready to answer any questions that he might care to ask, and I so informed him.

"Mr. Morgan," he began, "about that cake of soap which, as the events of last night showed, contained the missing jewel cleverly hidden within it. Will you be so good as to tell Sergeant McQuade and myself how it happened to be in your possession?"

"Certainly," I replied, without hesitation. "I was in my room at Major Temple's house yesterday morning, and I heard someone moving about in the green room in which Mr. Ashton was killed. You are no doubt aware that the doors of the two rooms are directly opposite each other?"

"I know that," he replied, gravely.

"I saw, by looking into the mirror on my dresser, that the person in the other room was Major Temple's Chinese servant, Li Min. He seemed to me to be acting very suspiciously."

"What was he doing?" inquired the Inspector, with a look at Sergeant McQuade.

"Apparently he was searching the room for something – I could not, of course, tell what. I left my room and came upon him suddenly, whereupon he pretended to be busily engaged in setting the room to rights. I had noticed, immediately upon entering the room, a strong odor of perfume, a queer, Oriental perfume that at once attracted my attention, because – " I hesitated.

"Because of what?" asked the Inspector shortly.

"Because it was the same as that upon the handkerchief which Miss Temple had left in the room upon her visit there the night before, and which was found there by Sergeant McQuade the next day."

"What importance did you attach to that fact?"

"I do not know – I cannot say. There seems no explanation of the matter. But, at the time of which I speak, it struck me as being peculiar – I looked about and found that the perfume came from a cake of soap upon the washstand, near which I stood. It had evidently been left there by Mr. Ashton, and, being so natural and usual an object, must have been overlooked by the police when the room was searched."

"Why did you remove it?"

"Because I wished a means of identifying the perfume. I felt then, and still feel, that there was some intimate and unusual reason for the presence of that perfume upon Miss Temple's handkerchief."

"Mr. Morgan, why, since you were pretending to assist Sergeant McQuade by every means in your power to secure the missing jewel, and apprehend Mr. Ashton's murderer, did you fail to disclose to him the facts that you have just related?" The Inspector's manner was increasingly uncompromising. "Did you have any reason to suspect that the jewel was hidden in the cake of soap?"

"None whatever. I did not mention the matter to the Sergeant because it seemed too vague and unimportant – it indicated nothing."

The Inspector frowned. "Of that you were perhaps not the best judge. You committed a grave error. I dislike to imply that it might have been anything worse." He glanced at a notebook he held in his hand. I began to feel indignant at the tone and manner in which he was conducting his cross-questioning.

"Is it not true, Mr. Morgan," he asked suddenly, "that Miss Temple was violently opposed to any marriage with Mr. Ashton, and that either his death, or the abstracting of the jewel which was to have been the price paid by him for her hand, would have been of great benefit to her?"

"Miss Temple could have no hand in such an affair. It is preposterous!" I cried angrily.

"I do not imply that she could, or would." The Inspector was irritatingly calm. "I merely asked you if such an event or events would not have been to her benefit?"

"I suppose they would," I answered, sulkily, "if you put it that way."

"Did not Miss Temple ask you to assist her in preventing this marriage, Mr. Morgan, the night before the tragedy, and did you not promise to help her in every way in your power?"

"This is absurd," I cried, now thoroughly angry. "You will be accusing me of murdering Mr. Ashton next."

"So long as we have not done so, Mr. Morgan, you need not accuse yourself. We only know, so far, that the jewel for which Mr. Ashton was murdered has been found in your possession."

The significant way in which he uttered these words thrilled me with a vague sense of alarm. There upon the table, before Sergeant McQuade, lay Miss Temple's telegram. It was open, and I felt sure he had already read it. My mind seemed confused – my brain on fire. The Inspector turned to McQuade. "Sergeant," he said, "you have the handkerchief in question with you, I believe?"

McQuade nodded, then drew from his pocket a leather wallet, and, extracting the folded handkerchief from its recesses, spread it carefully upon the table. He then produced a magnifying glass from one of his pockets and requested me to examine the surface of the bit of cambric and lace. I did so, and observed that it was covered with minute particles of some green substances, some very small, others of considerable size. I did not at first realize what they were.

"Do you see anything?" asked the Inspector.

"Yes," I replied. "The handkerchief is full of fine green specks, but I cannot imagine what they are."

"They are bits of soap, Mr. Morgan," said the detective, as he folded up the handkerchief and replaced it in his wallet.

"Soap," I cried, more than ever mystified.

"Exactly!" The Inspector looked at me keenly. "Has it not occurred to you, Mr. Morgan, that in order to place the jewel inside the cake of soap, it was first necessary to cut it in two, and hollow out a space in the interior? Is it not also quite evident that anyone so hiding the jewel would perform this operation very carefully, so as to leave behind no traces, and that the bits of soap removed from the interior of the cake must have been carefully collected upon some object, this handkerchief, for instance, and subsequently thrown away, leaving the minute particles that you see still clinging to its surface?"

"Yes," I replied, dazed. "But who?"

"That, Mr. Morgan, is just what we are trying to find out. It hardly seems likely that Mr. Ashton would have gone to all this trouble, although it is possible, since he had reason, after his quarrel with Major Temple, to fear an attempt to gain possession of the jewel. If he did, how does it happen that he used Miss Temple's handkerchief for the purpose? He may of course have found it upon the floor and so utilized it, but it seems unlikely."

"What, then, seems more likely?" I asked, hotly. "Would the murderer have gone to all that trouble to get the stone, and then have left it behind?"

"Possibly, Mr. Morgan, to have been recovered at leisure – as you, indeed, happened to recover it. Such a jewel would not be a good thing to have in one's possession, immediately after the murder."

"But the operation of hiding the stone in the soap would have taken fifteen or twenty minutes at least," I objected, "and we burst in the door within less than ten minutes from the time Mr. Ashton's cry was heard."

"The alarm was given by you, Mr. Morgan. You alone heard Mr. Ashton's cry. Whether you heard it at six o'clock, or five, or four, rests upon your word alone. We do not accuse you, remember, we are trying to arrive at the truth. We do not imply that you hid the jewel any more than we imply that Miss Temple did so herself, and left her handkerchief behind as a mute witness of the fact. We do know that somebody did so, and the facts we have just stated, coupled with Miss Temple's refusal to explain her early expedition from the house that morning, all point to something we do not yet understand. With Miss Temple and yourself working together, much seems explainable that before seemed dark and mysterious. Even the closing of the window from within the green room may be explained, upon this hypothesis, for you had ample time to close it while Major Temple was examining Mr. Ashton's belongings in his frenzied search for the lost emerald. We are convinced of one thing: that the Chinaman did not commit the murder, for, had he done so, he would have taken the stone along with him, since that was the sole purpose he had in view."

"I do not agree with you there," I said. "Mr. Ashton may have hidden the jewel himself, and then the Chinaman, after committing the murder, may have been unable to find it. That would account for Li Min's subsequent search of the room, and his confederates' actions when they began to suspect, as Li Min no doubt did when he saw me remove the cake of soap, that the emerald was hidden within it."

"You are right in what you say, Mr. Morgan, if Mr. Ashton hid the jewel himself. But the subsequent actions of Li Min and his confederates are equally explainable upon the theory that they had nothing to do with the murder whatever, and were merely attempting to steal the jewel at the first opportunity."

I made no reply. They seemed to be weaving a net of circumstantial evidence about me that, try as I would, I did not seem able to break through.

"We have alluded," continued the Inspector, "to your sympathy with Miss Temple, to the use of her handkerchief to hold the bits of soap, to the fact that you alone heard Mr. Ashton's cry and alarmed the house, to your presence in the murdered man's room at a time when you could readily have bolted the window from within, to your strange failure to mention the matter of the cake of soap to Sergeant McQuade, and to the fact that the jewel was found in your possession. We now come to another curious fact, which we trust you may be able to explain satisfactorily. The weapon with which this murder was apparently committed was found this morning, locked in a drawer in the room you occupied at Major Temple's house. It was wrapped in a handkerchief marked with your initials. Can you tell us how it came to be there?"

I turned to the Inspector with a bitter laugh. "I can tell you," I replied, "but, I presume, you will not believe me. I put the weapon, which was a brass-headed poker, there myself. I found it on the lawn outside of Mr. Ashton's window, the day before yesterday."

"Why did you also conceal this important piece of evidence from Sergeant McQuade?" demanded the Inspector in a stern voice.

I felt like a fool, and looked like one, as well, I fear. "I forgot it," I mumbled in confusion.

"You forgot it!" The Inspector believed that I was lying, and showed it. "Can you expect a sane man to believe any such folly as that?"

"Folly, or not," I replied, "it is the truth. I found the poker the day before yesterday, late in the afternoon. I intended to show it privately to Sergeant McQuade. He was in Exeter at the time and I placed it in the drawer for safe keeping. When he returned that evening, it was just in time to listen to Major Temple's story of his experiences in China, and, when he had finished, it was close to midnight and the matter had completely slipped my mind. The inquest the following morning took my entire attention and, after that, the sudden arrest of Li Min, and our departure for London. You know what has occurred since. I had forgotten the matter completely until I received this telegram from Miss Temple not half an hour before you came." I took the dispatch from the table and handed it to the Inspector, who read it with interest.

"Why did Miss Temple send you this?" he inquired suddenly.

"I do not know – I suppose she thought it would be of interest to me."

"Did it not occur to you that it might be in the nature of a warning?"

Again I saw a chasm yawning before me. Every step in this miserable affair seemed to make matters look blacker and more sinister as far as I was concerned.

"Miss Temple has no reason to suspect me of any part in the matter," I replied. "Do you think it at all likely that, if I had committed the murder, I could have left such damning evidence as the weapon where the police would have been certain to discover it, and wrapped in my own handkerchief, to render my detection the easier? What is your theory of the crime, Inspector Burns, upon the present evidence? Reconstruct the events of that night as you think they might have occurred. I will not take it to heart if you do me any injustice, for I am as innocent of any complicity in Mr. Ashton's murder as you are."

The Inspector seemed impressed by my words and manner. He looked at Sergeant McQuade, who nodded slightly. Then he transferred his gaze to me. "I have no objection, Mr. Morgan, to outlining a theory of the murder which seems to me to fit the facts as we know them. It may or may not be correct, but it is my plan to work out whatever theory will most nearly fit all the facts in my possession, and then test it from every standpoint until it either fails, or is proven true. I shall be obliged to you if you will indicate, when I have finished, any points which seem to you not to coincide with such evidence as we now have before us.

"Miss Temple," began the Inspector, "knew that Ashton had her letter in which she agreed to marry him in his possession, and she also knew that, if Ashton delivered the emerald to her father in the morning, she would be compelled to keep her word. She detested Ashton – the thought of marriage with him was unbearable to her. She retired to her room, but could not sleep. At some hour later, possibly shortly after midnight, as she says, she went to Mr. Ashton's room, and was admitted by him. She begged for the letter – he refused – a violent altercation ensued – in her rage she grasped the poker, and struck him with it. He fell, but she found, by feeling his heart, that he was not dead. She believed that she had only stunned him, and set to work to secure the jewel. After removing it from the case, she feared to take it from the room. She had no wish to steal it, but only to prevent Mr. Ashton from making use of it. She hit upon the plan of hiding it in the cake of soap. In half an hour the thing was done, and the pieces, collected upon her handkerchief, thrown out of the window. She then set about leaving the room, but, on again feeling Mr. Ashton's heart, she found it very weak. She feared the result of her blow. To destroy the evidence of what she had done, she threw the poker out of the window into the grass, and hurriedly left the room, forgetting the handkerchief in her agitation as she did so. She returned to her room, but was doubtless unable to sleep, in terror at her act. Toward morning she decided to leave the house and flee, and, with this object in view, changed her clothes and shoes, but once more went to Mr. Ashton's room, to assure herself that he no longer lived. In doing this, she awoke you, either by accident or design. You heard her story, she threw herself upon your mercy, and you agreed to stand by her; you advised her against running away, but suggested that she go down and get the poker, which she had thrown from the window, in order that it might be replaced in the room, or otherwise disposed of. This she did. You meanwhile entered the room, bolted the door on the inside, and left by the window. It is probable that you examined the body while in the room, and, unknown to yourself, your hand became stained with blood. On reaching the roof, you rested it upon the sill while closing the window with the other hand. You then re-entered the house by the hall window, meeting Miss Temple, who had secured the poker, and taking it from her. You placed it in your room, meanwhile urging her to retire to hers and change her dress and shoes. A little later you aroused the house with your cries and, upon entering the room, rebolted the window while Major Temple was not observing you. You later secured the cake of soap containing the jewel, as we know. You no doubt intended to replace the poker in the room at the first opportunity. None had occurred up to the time of your leaving the house, for the room was kept locked by the police until after the inquest. You entered it once, just before your departure, and secured the jewel, but Li Min's presence prevented you from replacing the poker."