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Kerry's savagery would have awed any man, even though he had supposed it to be the idle threat of a passionate man. But Zani Chada knew all men, and he knew this one.
Without fearing the man in the physical sense, he was not fool enough to underestimate his potentialities for evil and his power to strike darkly. "Act as you please," added Zani Chada, speaking even more softly. "But I have not advised lightly. I will receive you, Chief Inspector, at any hour of the night you care to return. By to-morrow, if you wish, you may be independent of everybody."
It was curiously still in the lobby, and, as he determined, curiously Eastern. He was conscious of a sense of exhilaration. That Zani Chada controlled powerful influences, he knew well. But, reviewing the precautions which he had taken, Kerry determined that the trump card was in his possession. The Chinese servant descended the stairs again and intimated that the visitor should follow him.
In a sense it was a contest of rapier and battle-axe; an insidious but powerful will enlisted against the bulldog force of the Chief Inspector. Still through half-closed eyes Zani Chada watched his visitor, who stood, feet apart and chin thrust forward aggressively, staring with wide open, fierce blue eyes at the other.
"It's the theft of the Key that has prompted me to speak, Deacon. Madame has some sort of power hypnotic power. She employed it on me once, to my cost! Paul Harley, of Chancery Lane, can tell you more about her. The house she's living in temporarily used to belong to a notorious Eurasian, Zani Chada.
An opium pipe rested in a porcelain bowl. Zani Chada, wearing a blue robe, sat in a cushioned chair, staring toward the Chief Inspector. With one slender yellow hand he brushed his untidy gray hair. His long magnetic eyes were half closed. "Good evening, Chief Inspector Kerry," he said. "Won't you be seated?" "Thanks, I'm not staying. I can hear what you've got to say standing."
"Who are you?" he demanded, speaking with an accent which was unfamiliar to her, but in a voice which was not unlike the voice of Lou Chada. "Who brought you here?" This was so wholly unexpected that for a moment she found herself unable to reply, but finally: "How dare you!" she cried, her native courage reasserting itself. "I have been drugged and brought to this place. You shall pay for it.
Knowing what he knew already, and what he suspected, it is certain that, could he have viewed Lou Chada through the eyes of Chief Inspector Kerry, the affair must have terminated otherwise. But Sir Noel did not know what Kerry knew.
Her husband was wealthy, twelve years her senior, and, far from watching over her with jealous care an attitude which often characterizes such unions he, on the contrary, permitted her a dangerous freedom, believing that she would appreciate without abusing it. Her friendship with Lou Chada had first opened his eyes to the perils which beset the road of least resistance.
"Good evening, Durham. Anything to report?" "Yes. Lou Chada is here again." "With whom?" "Lady Rourke." Kerry stepped to the edge of the pavement and spat out a piece of chewing-gum. From his overcoat pocket he drew a fresh piece, tore off the pink wrapping and placed the gum between his teeth. Then: "How long?" he demanded. "Came to dinner. They are dancing." "H'm!"
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