THE CHEST OF CHU CHAN
by Maxwell Grant
As originally published in "The Shadow Magazine," September 1944.
Mad murder! And a body in a locked chest pierced by the priceless Burmese
katar! Can a mere statue of a beautiful Siamese dancer come to life? A pulsing,
dramatic climax gives The Shadow his startling answer.
CHAPTER I
JARED SHEBLEY leaned back in his teak-wood chair and toyed with the Burmese
katar. His crisp smile, slicing across his parchment face, would have suited an
Oriental potentate more than a New York curio collector.
Shebley's surroundings were in keeping with his appearance.
This was his curio room, the pride of his Manhattan penthouse. Its walls
were adorned with tall, narrow tapestries, woven mostly in gold and silver, set
alternately between the glass-fronted cabinets that housed the rarities
comprising Shebley's collection.
It would have required a sizable pamphlet to describe those items. In fact,
such a pamphlet was already in the making; the proof sheets were scattered all
over the chess table which Shebley used as a desk. The table itself, a bulky and
elaborate affair inlaid with squares of black and white mother-of-pearl, was one
of Shebley's chief prizes. It was supposed to be the table on which a Persian
prince had been maneuvering his men when he was captured, along with his royal
tent, by Hulagu, the Mongolian invader operating under the banner of Genghis
Khan.
As with most of Shebley's curios, the authenticity of this number was a
matter of some doubt, but not to Shebley. He believed it to be the genuine
article, and the only thing that bothered him was what Hulagu had done with the
chessmen that belonged with it. Shebley would be very unhappy if some day that
ancient chess set showed up in the possession of another eccentric collector.
What bothered Professor Giles Frescott was the way in which Shebley toyed
with the Burmese katar.
No weapon more insidious could have been imagined, let alone fashioned,
than this royal katar or Oriental thrusting dagger. As he studied it across the
chess table, Professor Frescott lost some of the benign expression that usually
characterized his broad, elderly features. His eyes narrowed under his thin gray
brows, though whether through suspicion or envy, he didn't declare.
With all his genial ways, Frescott mistrusted collectors as a whole,
perhaps because he recognized that he, too, had the basic urge to lay his hands
upon rare items and hold them. But as curator of the Museum of Antiquities, the
noted professor had managed to curb his secret desires.
Shebley noticed Frescott's gaze and broadened his peculiar smile.
"I was about to discuss the chest of Chu Chan," remarked Shebley, dryly,
"but I see that you are more interested in the katar of Pagan Min."
Frescott's eyes widened immediately.
"You mean Pagan Min, the Burmese king?"
"Precisely," replied Shebley. "Pagan Min, the son of Tharawaddy, ruler of
