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His name is now Numagawa Jiro, so you were right, as usual. He and Mrs. Jiro live at 17 St. John's Mansions, Kensington." In fifteen minutes Brett was bowling along Knightsbridge in a hansom, having left Hume with a strict injunction to rack his brains for any further undiscovered facts bearing upon the inquiry, and turn up promptly at ten o'clock next morning.
Japanese law does not pelmit the change of names now. My ploper name is Numagawa Jiro" which he pronounced "Jilo." "You told the detective at Ipswich that the device on the handle represented the setting sun. How did you know the sun was setting, and not rising?" It was a haphazard shot. The description was Hume's, not Winter's. Again the Japanese paused before answering.
"Was there ever such a tangle! If I indulge in a violent flirtation with Miss Layton, and I persuade Winter to ogle Mrs. Jiro, the affair should be artistically complete." The conceit brought Ipswich to his mind. He was convinced that the main line of inquiry lay in the direction of Mr. Numagawa Jiro and the curious masquerading of his colossal spouse.
Numagawa Jiro. You must disguise yourself. Jiro is to be shadowed constantly. Get any help you require, but do it. Be off, Winter, on the wings of the wind. Fasten on to Jiro. Batten on him. Become his invisible vampire. Above all else, discover his associates. Run now to the bank and cash this cheque. It repays the sum you advanced last night, and provides money for expenses."
Although the hour was late for calling upon a complete stranger, the barrister could not rest until he had inspected the Jiro ménage. No. 17 was a long way from the ground level. Indeed, the cats of Kensington, if sufficiently enterprising, inhabitated the floor above. He rang, and was surveyed with astonishment by a very small maid-servant. "Is Mr. Numagawa Jiro at home?" he inquired.
Somehow, the barrister imagined that the third visitant of that fateful New Year's Eve two years ago would not trouble the neighbourhood again. Herein he was mistaken. At the county town he experienced little difficulty in learning the antecedents of Mrs. Numagawa Jiro. In the first hotel he entered he found a young lady behind the bar who was not only well acquainted with Mrs.
Though the words were carelessly good-humoured, they were just a trifle emphatic. The incident passed, but they recalled it subsequently under very different circumstances. Brett went home about ten o'clock. Next day at noon he was arranging for the immediate delivery of a type-writer machine, sold by Mr. Numagawa Jiro to a West End exchange, when a telegram reached him: "Come at once. Urgent.
It is possible to throw an Englishman off his guard by a shrewd thrust; but Mr. Numagawa Jiro was one of those persons whose lineaments would reveal the same amount of pain over a cut finger as a broken leg. Nevertheless, Brett's reply did unquestionably make him jump, and even Mrs. Jiro's bulging features became anxious. "Is that possible?" said the Japanese.
Then he drove to 17 St. John's Mansions, Kensington, where Mr. and Mrs. Jiro were "at home." They received him in the tiny drawing-room, and the lady's manner betokened some degree of nervousness, which she vainly endeavoured to conceal by a pretence of bland curiosity as to the object of the barrister's visit. Not so Numagawa, whose sharp ferret eyes snapped with anxiety.
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