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Updated: May 2, 2025
With a polite bow he handed a card in Levendale's direction. "Permit me, sir," he said suavely. "My card. As for the rest, perhaps Mr. Detective here will tell you." "It's this way, you see, Mr. Levendale," remarked Ayscough. "Acting on information received from Dr. Pittery, one of the junior house-surgeons at University College Hospital, who told me that Mr.
"I occasionally visited them occasionally they visited me that is all." "Dr. Pittery says they weren't brothers?" suggested Ayscough. "So I understood," assented Yada. "Friends." "You can't tell us anything of their habits? haunts? what they usually did with themselves when they weren't at the hospital?" asked the detective.
"The fact of the case is, Mr. Yada," he said, "one of these two young men has been murdered! murdered, sir!" Yada's well-defined eyebrows elevated themselves but the rest of his face was immobile. He looked fixedly at Ayscough for a second or two then he let out one word. "Which?" "According to Dr. Pittery Chen Li," answered Ayscough. "Dr. Pittery identified him. Murdered, Mr. Yada, murdered!
Your name, sir, was given to me tonight by one of the junior house-surgeons at the hospital up the street Dr. Pittery." "Oh, yes, Dr. Pittery I know," agreed Yada. "Yes?" "Dr. Pittery tells me, sir," continued Ayscough, "that you know two Chinese gentlemen who are fellow-students of yours at the hospital, Mr. Yada?" The Japanese bowed his dark head and blew out a mouthful of smoke from his cigar.
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