I presume a young woman, heavily veiled, comes ashore —

“No. A Chinese comes ashore.”

“A what?”

“A Chinese detective from Honolulu, carrying in his pocket a pearl necklace worth over a quarter of a million dollars.”

Bob Eden nodded. “Yes. And after that —”

“After that,” said Alexander Eden thoughtfully, “who can say? That may be only the beginning.”

CHAPTER II

The Detective From Hawaii


AT SIX O’CLOCK on the following Thursday evening, Alexander Eden drove to the Stewart Hotel. All day a February rain had spattered over the town, bringing an early dusk. For a moment Eden stood in the doorway of the hotel, staring at the parade of bobbing umbrellas and at the lights along Geary Street, glowing a dim yellow in the dripping mist. In San Francisco age does not matter much, and he felt like a boy again as he rode up in the elevator to Sally Jordan’s suite.

She was waiting for him in the doorway of her sitting-room, lovely as a girl in a soft clinging dinner gown of gray. Caste tells, particularly when one has reached the sixties, Eden thought as he took her hand.

“Ah, Alec,” she smiled. “Come in. You remember Victor.”

Victor stepped forward eagerly, and Eden looked at him with interest. He had not seen Sally Jordan’s son for some years and he noted that, at thirty-five, Victor began to show the strain of his giddy career as man about town. His brown eyes were tired, as though they had looked at the bright lights too long, his face a bit puffy, his waistline far too generous. But his attire was perfection; evidently his tailor had yet to hear of the failing Phillimore fortunes.

“Come in, come in,” said Victor gaily. His heart was light, for he saw important money in the offing. “As I understand it, tonight’s the night.”

“And I’m glad it is,” Sally Jordan added. “I shall be happy to get that necklace off my mind. Too great a burden at my age.”

Eden sat down. “Bob’s gone to the dock to meet the President Pierce,” he remarked. “I told him to come here at once with your Chinese friend.”

“Ah, yes,” said Sally Jordan.

“Have a cocktail,” suggested Victor.

“No, thanks,” Eden replied. Abruptly he rose and strode about the room.

Mrs. Jordan regarded him with concern. “Has anything happened?” she inquired.

The jeweler returned to his chair. “Well, yes — something has happened,” he admitted. “Something — well, something rather odd.”

“About the necklace, you mean?” asked Victor with interest.

“Yes,” said Eden. He turned to Sally Jordan. “You remember what Madden told us, Sally? Almost his last words. ‘New York, and nowhere else.’”

“Why, yes — I remember,” she replied.

“Well, he’s changed his mind,” frowned the jeweler. “Somehow, it doesn’t seem like Madden. He called me up this morning from his ranch down on the desert, and he wants the necklace delivered there.”

“On the desert?” she repeated, amazed.

“Precisely. Naturally, I was surprised.