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Page 18
"Were you not afraid when you suspected that Cohen was a burglar?
You told me yourself that you did suspect him."
"Yes, I spoke to my father about it."
"And what did he say?"
"Oh"--she shrugged her shoulders--"he just smiled and told me not
to worry."
"And that was the last you heard about the matter?"
"Yes, until you told me he was dead."
Again he questioned the dark eyes and again was baffled. He felt
tempted, and not for the first time, to throw up the case. After
all, it rested upon very slender data--the mysterious death of a
Chinaman whose history was unknown and the story of a crook whose
word was worth nothing.
Finally he asked himself, as he had asked himself before, what
did it matter? If old Huang Chow had disposed of these people in
some strange manner, they had sought to rob him. The morality of
the case was complicated and obscure, and more and more he was
falling under the spell of Lala's dark eyes.
But always it was his professional pride which came to the
rescue. Murder had been done, whether justifiably or otherwise,
and to him had been entrusted the discovery of the murderer. It
seemed that failure was to be his lot, for if Lala knew anything
she was a most consummate actress, and if she did not, his last
hope of information was gone.
He would have liked nothing better than to be rid of the affair,
provided he could throw up the case with a clear conscience. But
when presently he parted from the attractive Eurasian, and
watched her slim figure as, turning, she waved her hand and
disappeared round a corner, he knew that rest was not for him.
He had discovered the emporium of a Shadwell live-stock dealer
with whom Ah Fu had a standing order for newly fledged birds of
all descriptions. Purchases apparently were always made after
dusk, and Ah Fu with his birdcage was due that evening.
A scheme having suggested itself to Durham, he now proceeded to
put it into execution, so that when dusk came, and Ah Fu,
carrying an empty birdcage, set out from the house of Huang Chow,
a very dirty-looking loafer passed the corner of the street at
about the time that the Chinaman came slinking out.
Durham had mentally calculated that Ah Fu would be gone about
half an hour upon his mysterious errand, but the Chinaman
travelled faster than he had calculated.
Just as he was about to climb up once more on to the sloping
roof, he heard the pattering footsteps returning to the
courtyard, although rather less than twenty minutes had elapsed
since the man had set out.
Durham darted round the corner and waited until he heard the door
closed; then, returning, he scrambled up on to the roof, creeping
forward until he was lying looking down through the skylight into
the darkened room below.
For ten minutes or more he waited, until he began to feel cramped
and uncomfortable. Then that happened which he had hoped and
anticipated would happen. The place beneath became illuminated,
not fully, by means of the hanging lamps, but dimly so that
distorted shadows were cast about the floor. Someone had entered
carrying a lantern.
Durham's view-point limited his area of vision, but presently, as
the light came nearer and nearer, he discerned Ah Fu, carrying a
lantern in one hand and a birdcage in the other. He could hear
nothing, for the trap fitted well and the glass was thick.
Moreover, it was very dirty. He was afraid, however, to attempt
to clean a space.
Ah Fu apparently had set the lantern upon a table, and into the
radius of its light there presently moved a stooping figure.
Durham recognized Huang Chow, and felt his heart beats increasing
in rapidity.
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