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Updated: April 30, 2025
Yet that this had been a signal of some kind the Chief Inspector did not doubt, and: "You can't trick me," he said fiercely. "No one can leave this house without my knowledge, and because of what happened out there in the fog my hands are untied." He took up his hat and cane from the chair. "I'm going to search the premises," he declared. Zani Chada stood up slowly.
Too well she recognized that his passion must have driven him insane, as he must know at what cost he took such liberties with one who could not lightly be so treated. But these reflections afforded poor consolation. It was not of the penalties that Lou Chada must suffer for this infringement of Western codes, but of the price that she must pay for her folly, of which Pat was thinking.
"He will be silent at the price of the boy's life." "He may be," returned Zani Chada. "I hate him, but he is a man. Had you escaped, he might have consented to be silent. Once you are arrested, nothing would silence him." "If the case is tried it will ruin Pat's reputation." "What a pity!" said Zani Chada. In some distant part of the house a gong was struck three times.
"Whose?" "It belongs to a man called Chada." "Chada? Never heard of him. But I mean, what part of London is it in?" "Whatever do you mean? It is in Limehouse, I believe. I don't understand. You came here." "I didn't," said young Kerry cheerfully; "I was fetched!" "By your father?" "Not on your life. By a couple of Chinks! I'll tell you something." He raised his twinkling blue eyes.
His red moustache positively bristled, and he clutched the receiver so tightly that it quivered against his ear. "You mistake me," replied the speaker. "My name is Zani Chada. You know where I live. I shall not detain you more than five minutes if you will do me the honour of calling upon me." Kerry chewed furiously for ten momentous seconds, then: "I'll come!" he said.
"He came out again and drove it around to the garage at the back." "Why didn't you report this at once?" "I was on my way to do it when I saw you coming out of Malay Jack's." The man's voice shook nervously, and: "What are you scared about?" asked Kerry savagely. "Got anything else to tell me?" "No, no," muttered Peters. "Only I've got an idea he saw me." "Who saw you?" "Lou Chada." "What then?"
The latter, like a man of stone, sat in his carved chair, eyes nearly closed. The Chief Inspector whipped out a whistle and raised it to his lips. He blew three blasts upon it. From one two three four points around the house the signal was answered. Zani Chada fully opened his long, basilisk eyes. "You win, Chief Inspector," he said. "But much may be done by clever counsel. If all fails "
The long eyes grew a little more narrow the only change of expression that Zani Chada allowed himself. "As you wish. I have no occasion to detain you long." In that queer, perfumed room, with the suggestion of something sinister underlying its exotic luxury, arose a kind of astral clash as the powerful personality of the Eurasian came in contact with that of Kerry.
He had never before entered the mystery house of Zani Chada, nor had he personally encountered the Eurasian, reputed to be a millionaire, but who chose, for some obscure reason, to make his abode in this old rambling building, once a country mansion, which to-day was closely invested by dockland and the narrow alleys of Chinatown.
He had long, untidy gray hair brushed back from his low brow; eyes strangely like the eyes of Lou Chada, except that they were more heavy-lidded; but his skin was as yellow as a guinea, and his gaunt, cleanshaven face was the face of an Oriental. The slender hands, too, which he held clasped before him, were yellow, and possessed a curiously arresting quality.
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