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Page 39
Certain it is that Kerry left the Eurasian's house in a frame of
mind which was not familiar to him. He was undecided respecting
his next move. A deadly menace underlay Chada's words.
"Consult your wife," he kept muttering to himself. When the door
was opened for him by the Chinese servant, he paused a moment
before going out into the fog. There were men on duty at the
back and at the front of the house. Should he risk all and raid
the place? That Lady Rourke was captive here he no longer
doubted. But it was equally certain that no further harm would
come to her at the hands of her captors, since she had been
traced there and since Zani Chada was well aware of the fact. Of
the whereabouts of Lou Chada he could not be certain. If he was
in the house, they had him.
The door was closed by the Chinaman, and Kerry stood out in the
darkness of the dismal, brick-walled street, feeling something as
nearly akin to dejection as was possible in one of his mercurial
spirit. Something trickled upon the brim of his hat, and,
raising his head, Kerry detected rain upon his upturned face. He
breathed a prayer of thankfulness. This would put an end to the
fog.
He began to walk along by the high brick wall, but had not
proceeded far before a muffled figure arose before him and the
light of an electric torch was shone into his face.
"Oh, it's you, Chief Inspector!" came the voice of the watcher.
"It is," rapped Kerry. "Unless there are tunnels under this old
rat-hole, I take it the men on duty can cover all the exits?"
"All the main exits," was the reply. "But, as you say, it's a
strange house, and Zani Chada has a stranger reputation."
"Do nothing until you hear from me."
"Very good, Chief Inspector."
The rain now was definitely conquering the fog, and in half the
time which had been occupied by the outward journey Kerry was
back again in Limehouse police station. Unconsciously he had
been hastening his pace with every stride, urged onward by an
unaccountable anxiety, so that finally he almost ran into the
office and up to the desk where the telephone stood.
Lifting it, he called his own number and stood tapping his foot,
impatiently awaiting the reply. Presently came the voice of the
operator: "Have they answered yet?"
"No."
"I will ring them again."
Kerry's anxiety became acute, almost unendurable; and when at
last, after repeated attempts, no reply could be obtained from
his home, he replaced the receiver and leaned for a moment on the
desk, shaken with such a storm of apprehension as he had rarely
known. He turned to the inspector in charge, and:
"Let me have that envelope I left with you," he directed. "And
have someone 'phone for a taxi; they are to keep on till they get
one. Where is Sergeant Durham?"
"At the mortuary."
"Ah!"
"Any developments, Chief Inspector?"
"Yes. But apart from keeping a close watch upon the house of
Zani Chada you are to do nothing until you hear from me again."
"Very good," said the inspector. "Are you going to wait for
Durham's report?"
"No. Directly the cab arrives I am going to wait for nothing."
Indeed, he paced up and down the room like a wild beast caged,
while call after call was sent to neighbouring cab ranks, for a
long time without result. What did it mean, his wife's failure
to answer the telephone? It might mean that neither she nor
their one servant nor Dan was in the house. And if they were not
in the house at this hour of the night, where could they possibly
be? This it might mean, or--something worse.
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