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Updated: May 14, 2025
"Right," replied Smith thoughtfully. "I am half afraid, though, that the recent alarms may have scared our quarry your man, Mason, and then Cadby. Against which we have that, so far as he is likely to know, there has been no clew pointing to this opium den. Remember, he thinks Cadby's notes are destroyed." "The whole business is an utter mystery to me," confessed Ryman.
Now, with those remorseless memories jostling in my mind, I was entering the house of Fu-Manchu's last victim, and the shadow of that giant evil seemed to be upon it like a palpable cloud. Cadby's old landlady greeted me with a queer mixture of fear and embarrassment in her manner. "I am Dr. Petrie," I said, "and I regret that I bring bad news respecting Mr. Cadby." "Oh, sir!" she cried.
A cloud of hair came falling about the slim shoulders as the speaker bent to pass this strange lifeline to Smith; and I think it was my wonder at knowing her for the girl whom that day I had surprised in Cadby's rooms which saved my life. For I not only kept afloat, but kept my gaze upturned to that beautiful, flushed face, and my eyes fixed upon hers which were wild with fear . . . for me!
We stood in his room at New Scotland Yard, bending over a sheet of foolscap upon which were arranged some burned fragments from poor Cadby's grate, for so hurriedly had the girl done her work that combustion had not been complete. "What do we make of this?" said Smith. "The pigtail again!" rapped Weymouth. "She evidently burned the torn-out pages all together," continued Smith.
Petrie, it's the hunchback of Cadby's notes. Ah, I thought so. Do you see that?" I turned my eyes round as far as was possible. A man had scrambled down from one of the bunks and was following the bent figure across the room. They passed around us quietly, the little yellow man leading, with his curious, lithe gait, and the other, an impassive Chinaman, following.
"That lascar, too," he continued, "that you came down to see, sir; you remember his hands?" Smith nodded. "He was not a lascar," he said shortly. "He was a dacoit." Silence fell again. I turned to the array of objects lying on the table those which had been found in Cadby's clothing. None of them were noteworthy, except that which had been found thrust into the loose neck of his shirt.
But that Cadby meant to pay another visit to the place in a different 'make-up' or disguise, is evident, and that the Tuesday night proposed was last night is a reasonable deduction. The reference to a pigtail is principally interesting because of what was found on Cadby's body." Inspector Weymouth nodded affirmatively, and Smith glanced at his watch. "Exactly ten-twenty-three," he said.
Without other evidence, the fact that they both died in the same way as the dacoit would be conclusive, for we know that Fu-Manchu killed the dacoit!" "What is the meaning of the mutilated hands, Smith?" "God knows! Cadby's death was from drowning, you say?" "There are no other marks of violence." "But he was a very strong swimmer, Doctor," interrupted Inspector Ryman.
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