The Chinese Orange Mystery

The stamp on the envelope was a small rectangle of thin tough paper printed in a single color, bright orange. Within its rectangular border there was a conventionalized coiled dragon. Its denomination was five candarins. The printing of the stamp was crude, and the envelope itself was ragged and yellow with age. A message in Chinese¯the letter¯had been written on the inside of the envelope, which was of the old-fashioned type still used in Europe and elsewhere for both address and message, folding up neatly for postage.

“This,” muttered Donald, “is the most remarkable thing I’ve ever seen. To a China specialist it’s a find of monumental proportions. It’s the earliest official postage stamp of China, antedating by many years the accepted first-issue design which is in the standard catalogue. It was an experimental issue of extremely small quantity and was used postally only for a few days. No copy on cover, as we call it, which is to say on the envelope¯or off, for that matter¯has ever been found. God, what a beauty!”

“It’s not even listed in specialized Chinese catalogues,” said Macgowan hoarsely, eying the envelope with rapacity. “It’s barely mentioned in one old stamp treatise, rather affectionately referred to by color, just as philatelists refer to the first national authorized issue of Great Britain as the One-Penny Black. Lord, it’s beautiful.”

“Would you say,” drawled Ellery, “that this is a valuable piece of property?”

“Valuable!” cried Donald. “Why, man, this should be even more valuable philatelically than the British Guiana! That is, if it’s authentic. It would have to be expertized.”

“It looks genuine,” frowned Macgowan. “The fact that it’s on cover, and the cancellation is clear, and the message is written inside . . . “

“How valuable would you say?”

“Oh, anything. Anything at all. These things are worth what a collector will pay at top. The Guiana’s listed at fifty thousand.” Donald’s face darkened. “If I were stable financially, I’d probably pay as much as that for it myself. It would make top price for any stamp; but, lord, there’s nothing like this in the world!”

“Ah. Thank you, gentlemen.” Ellery returned the envelope to its manilla container and tucked it into his pocket. Kirk and Macgowan slowly went back to their seats. No one said anything for a long time. “This Chinese stamp, then,” resumed Ellery at last, “may be characterized as dens ex ma-china. It brought our friend the missionary all the way from China; I daresay he had made the find in some obscure place, visualized suddenly a wealth which would keep him in luxurious comfort for the rest of his days, lost his grip on the spiritual consolations of his profession, and resigned from the mission. Inquiry in Shanghai would have informed him of the great collectors of Chinese stamps who might be in the market for such a rarity; I suppose it was there, or perhaps in Peiping¯more probably Shanghai¯that he learned of Mr. Donald Kirk . . . . And it killed the priest, too, for the murder was committed in its name.”

Ellery stopped to look thoughtfully down at the coffin-like crate at his feet. “Having identified the victim, then¯except for name, which was unimportant¯and come to a satisfactory conclusion about the motive (although this was also unimportant from the logical standpoint), I proceeded to consideration¯the supreme consideration¯of the murderer’s identity.

“For some time, comparatively speaking, this most essential point escaped me. I knew the answer was there, if only I could spot it. Then I remembered one or two apparently inexplicable phenomena of the crime which no one, including myself, had been able to interpret. An impetus was provided by a chance question of the Inspector’s. And an experiment revealed the whole thing.”

Without warning he stooped and removed the lid of the crate. Sergeant Velie silently stepped forward; and between them they raised the dummy to a sitting position in the crate.

Marcella Kirk uttered a faint shriek and shrank against Macgowan beside her. Miss Diversey gulped noisily. Miss Temple lowered her eyes. Mrs. Shane breathed a prayer and Miss Llewes looked sickish. Even the men had turned pale.

“Don’t be alarmed,” murmured Ellery, rising. “Just a pleasant fancy of mine, and a rather interesting sample of the dummy-maker’s art. Please pay the very closest attention.”