CHARLIE Chan, the fictional detective of novels, film and television, solved dozens of mysteries, but there is still one Chan mystery film historian Steve Fredrick would like to solve: He’d like to find the article about Honolulu police detective Chang Apana that inspired writer Earl Derr Biggers to create Chan.

"Biggers knew he wanted to write a novel about murder in paradise," Fredrick said. "He went to the library. … and looked in the newspapers from Honolulu, and found a story about Detective Chang Apana and another detective breaking up a gambling den."

Biggers reportedly said he read the story abut Apana in 1924, finding it buried inside the paper. Fredrick has looked for it, but with no luck yet.

Little else about Chang Apana and Charlie Chan has eluded Fredrick. He’s been collecting intelligence about the real Apana and fiction inspired by him for years, and he’ll share his enthusiasm this weekend by leading a tour of Chang Apana’s Chinatown beat, holding a party celebrating author Biggers’ 100th birthday, and screening "The Black Camel," the only Charlie Chan movie shot in Honolulu.

"This is a celebration of a pop-culture icon related to Hawaii," Fredrick said.

Fredrick, whose interest in film led to his interest in Charlie Chan and Chang Apana, has a special treat for fans this weekend: actor James Hong, who portrayed the "No. 1 Son" in the "Adventures of Charlie Chan" television series.

Hong, in town to receive a lifetime achievement award from Willie K’s 50th State Film, Music and Martial Arts Festival (story on T5), plans to attend Sunday’s birthday celebration for Diggers . "When he called me, the first thing he said was, ‘Have you got a clue?’ That was his line in the show," Fredrick said.

Fredrick owns prints of 47 of the 49 Charlie Chan films — the other two have been lost to history — and binders full of documents related to the films and Chang Apana, a Honolulu detective from 1898 to 1932. He even has copies of Apana’s retirement notice — a terse announcement that his service was ending.

"They didn’t make a big deal out of it," Fredrick said. "This was the ‘A No. 1’ detective in the Honolulu Police Department."

The fictional character Charlie Chan became a sensation after he popped up in a minor role in Biggers’ novel "The House Without a Key." Biggers’ creation — a polite, clever and humble detective — ran counter to the Fu Manchu stereotype, a sinister figure that was a common image.

"(Charlie Chan) was the first positive representation of an Asian American," Fredrick said. "He was the wise, clever protector, who fought crime without using physical violence."

Biggers used a version of Chang Apana’s name, but nothing else specific. In reality, however, Apana was known for his deft handling of criminals. Fredrick has a copy of a 1904 newspaper article that details how Apana single-handedly took down a gambling den of 40 people, disguising himself as an old beggar to get past four guards. Though he was eventually recognized, he was able to arrest everyone, "because they knew who he was and because they respected him," Fredrick said.

Apana was not averse to using force, though he never carried a gun. His preferred weapon was a bullwhip, which Apana had learned to use as a paniolo on the Big Island. Fredrick said that on one occasion, Apana wrapped the whip around the neck of a much larger man to drag him to the police department.

TAKE a stroll with Fredrick near the corner of Merchant and Bethel streets, and Chang Apana’s world comes to life. Fredrick displays the enthusiasm of an overgrown kid as he approaches historical locations: gesturing dramatically at the site of a movie theater where the last Charlie Chan film played, just a block from the old police headquarters where Chang Apana worked. The former police building is still standing, along with the former Bank of Japan and the former post office across the street, though all house different occupants now. Architecturally, the neighborhood "is almost unchanged since that time," Fredrick said.

Inside the former headquarters, now a county building, Fredrick points out the original tile decorations and painted rooftops, and the door to the old courtroom where Chang and his fellow detectives would have given testimony.

"Chang Apana’s office was in Room 117," he said.

Charlie Chan films, although popular in their day, were later criticized for using Caucasians to portray an Asian character, for the broken English the character used, and for the perceived subservience of the character. But the character remains popular.

"I agree with some of the criticism, especially about the language," Fredrick said. But Fredrick noted that Chang Apana attended the filming of "The Black Camel" and was seen "laughing his head off" at Swedish actor Warner Oland’s portrayal of him. "If Apana is having fun and understanding the corniness of the character, why should be anyone else be uptight about it?"