"No. But he who has the fan has the papers. Hwei and I both thought that Tung-yu had the fan, and therefore Hwei watches him. I came down unexpectedly last night instead of waiting, so that I might assure myself that the packet was safe. But only a short time before, Mr. Ainsleigh found the fan. Tung-yu must have come down and taken the papers."
Rupert nodded. "Certainly. Without doubt he was the ghost Mrs. Petley saw, and when she came on him suddenly, he dropped the fan and fled. He must have climbed the wall of the park in spite of the spikes."
Lo-Keong smiled sourly, "I do not think anything--spikes or otherwise would have kept Tung-yu from gaining possession of those papers. And of course he knew the way to make the picture visible."
"How was that. I thought only you and my father and Hwei--"
"Ah," said the Mandarin calmly, "it seems that Tung-yu overheard the discussion between myself and your father as to the hiding of the papers and the plan of the fan. When he strangled Markham Ainsleigh, he hoped to find the packet at once. But Hwei secured both the fan and the packet. I have told you how they came to England, and how Hwei gave the fan to his brother. The brother was killed by accident and the coolie I spoke of, found the fan in his clothing, knowing nothing of it's significance. Then he learned the truth from the notice I put in the Pekin paper, and was afraid lest he should offend the god Kwang-ho. No he was not afraid of death--few of us are in China. But the anger of a god is different: it means ages of torment and the chance of being born again in the belly of some creeping animal. So the coolie kept the fan, till he found an opportunity of giving it to a foreign devil, in the person of Major Tidman. I can't understand how he knew the Major wanted the fan, save that he must have heard that Tidman was searching for news as to the death of Markham Ainsleigh. The coolie then knew, from enquiries at the mine, that the fan was connected with the death, and thus that the god Kwang-ho might have appointed the death of Markham. Yes," said the Mandarin complacently, "the coolie was afraid of the god, and no doubt was glad when Major Tidman took the fan."
Rodgers stared as Lo-Keong spoke. "It's rum to hear a gentleman like yourself talk this way, sir," he said.
"Ah," smiled the Mandarin, "our Eastern ways are different to yours."
"Yes," said the detective, "but you are so clever, that I don't see how you can believe in all this stuff about the private god."
Lo-Keong waved his hand imperatively. "Let us not speak of that, or we anger Kwang-ho. He is the controller of my destiny. Rather let us see how we can recover my papers from Tung-yu."
"If he has them," put in Rupert perplexedly. "And if so, Hwei will get them back."