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Updated: June 28, 2025
"I am very much obliged to you for receiving me at this late hour," said the barrister, rising, "but before I go allow me to compliment you on your remarkable knowledge of English. I am sure you are indebted to your good lady for your idiomatic command of the language." "I studied it for yeals in Japan " began Jiro, but in vain, for his very much better half resented the word "idiomatic."
Let us hope that the return of the young couple after their marriage marked a new era for an abode hitherto singled out for tragedy. Their start was auspicious enough, for true love, in their case, neither ran smoothly nor yielded to the pressure of terrible events. Mr. and Mrs. Jiro went to Japan.
Just imagine Winter dodging Jiro around the Rosetta Stone or the Phoebus Apollo, whilst the woman is visiting some one or some place of infinite value to our search. It is positively maddening." Perhaps, in his heart, Brett felt that Winter was not so greatly to blame.
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.
He did not credit Jiro with the death of Sir Alan Hume-Frazer, nor even with complicity in the crime. The Japanese had acted as the unwitting tool of a stronger personality, and the little man's brain was even at this moment considering fresh aspects of the affair not previously within his ken. Moreover, how maddening the whole thing was!
This shot floored Jiro metaphorically, and his wife literally, for she sank into a heap. "He knows everything, Nummie," she cried. "Evelything!" repeated her husband. Brett scowled terribly as a subterfuge for laughter. "Tell me," he said, "why you helped this amazing scoundrel?" "I did not help," squeaked Jiro, his voice becoming shrill with excitement and fear. "He was my fliend.
My second assistant is scraping and varnishing the door of No. 16 flat. He sees every one who enters and leaves the place during the day. If Mrs. Jiro comes out he has to follow her until he sees that I am on the job." "Good! I want to talk matters over with you. I have a cab waiting in a side street." "Why, sir, has anything special happened?"
Jiro, but remembered the circumstances of the courtship. "The fact is," she explained, "there are a lot of silly girls about who think every man with a dark skin is a prince in his own country if only he wears a silk hat and patent leather boots." "Is that all?" said Brett. "All what?" cried the girl. "Oh, don't be stupid! I mean when they are well dressed. Princess, indeed!
'Rabbit Jack' can identify him. He knew how to use the Ko-Katana. He knew the Japanese tricks of wrestling, which enabled him to make those two clever attacks on the two cousins. He has some power over Mrs. Capella, which brings her to him at eleven at night in a distant quarter of London. He made Jiro write the typed letter in my possession. He sent Jiro to Ipswich to attend Mr.
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.
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