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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Oh, yes!" he said in excellent English accents. "Pleased to see you will you take a chair and your friend! You want to talk to me?" Ayscough sat down and unbuttoned his overcoat. "Much obliged, sir," he said. "Yes the fact is, Mr. Yada, I called to see you on a highly important matter that's arisen.
Listen it's a case of murder!" Twenty minutes later, Ayscough, leading the young house-surgeon into a grim and silent room, turned aside the sheet from a yellow face. "Which one of 'em is it?" he asked. The house-surgeon started as he saw the wound in the dead man's throat. "This is Chen!" he answered.
When Isaac was eighteen, Master Stokes was so well impressed with his star scholar that he called in the young lad's uncle, the Reverend Mr. Ayscough, and insisted that the boy be sent to Cambridge. The uncle being a Cambridge man himself thought this the proper thing to do. On June Fifth, Sixteen Hundred Sixty-one, Isaac presented his credentials from his uncle and Mr.
Zillah leaned suddenly back against the table by which she was standing, and Ayscough, who was narrowly watching the effect of his news, saw her turn very pale. She stood staring at him during a moment's silence; then she let a sharp exclamation escape her lips, and in the same instant her colour came back heightened from surprise and indignation. "Impossible!" she said.
Very small, you know, and worn, too this man I'm talking of used some sort of a magnifying glass." Zillah turned away and went into the shop, which was all in darkness. Ayscough, waiting, heard the sound of a key being turned, then of a metallic tinkling; presently the girl came back, carrying a velvet-lined tray in one hand, and a jeweller's magnifying glass in the other.
"Neither to the widow nor to anybody but you," replied Goodyer. "Don't!" said Ayscough. "Keep it to yourself till I give you the word. You didn't hear anything from Parslett as to where the money was coming from?" "Not one syllable!" answered Goodyer. "But I could see he was dead sure of having it." "Well keep quiet about it," continued Ayscough.
Found in a fireplace, d'ye say, mister? Ah and what had he taken out of it before he threw the box away, now, Mr. Ayscough whoever it was that did throw it away?" "That blessed orange and yellow diamond, I should think!" said Ayscough. "Of course! Well, anything else?"
He motioned the man inside and once more fastened the door. "As you know this beat," he said quietly, as if continuing a conversation already begun, "you'll know the two Chinese gentlemen who have this house?" "Seen 'em yes," replied the policeman. "Two quiet little fellows seen 'em often generally of an evening." "Have you seen anything of them lately?" asked Ayscough.
Molteno had gone, or whether he'd retired from business altogether; he knew nothing and evidently didn't care, either, so that part of my memories comes to an end!" "Mr. Spencer Levendale is a man of just under fifty," remarked Ayscough, after a thoughtful pause, "and I should say that twenty-five years ago, he'd be just such a man as Mr. Killick has described."
They'd most likely been in here just before young Lauriston came in." "But where does Stephen Purvis come in then?" asked Mr. Penniket. "Can't say yet ," replied Ayscough, doubtfully. "But it may be that he and Levendale got an idea who the thieves were, and went off after them, and have got well, trapped, or, as John Purvis suggests, murdered. It's getting a nicer tangle than ever!"
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