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Page 44
"He may be," returned Zani Chada. "I hate him, but he is a man.
Had you escaped, he might have consented to be silent. Once you
are arrested, nothing would silence him."
"If the case is tried it will ruin Pat's reputation."
"What a pity!" said Zani Chada.
In some distant part of the house a gong was struck three times.
"Go," commanded his father. "Remain at Kwee's house until I send
for you. Let Ah Fang go to the room above and see that the woman
is silent. An outcry would ruin our last chance."
Lou Chada raised his hands, brushing the hair back from his wet
forehead, then, staring haggardly at his father, turned and ran
from the room.
A minute later Kerry was ushered in by the Chinese servant. The
savage face was set like a mask. Without removing his hat, he
strode across to the table and bent down so that fierce, wide-
open blue eyes stared closely into long, half-closed black ones.
"I've got one thing to say," explained Kerry huskily. "Whatever
the hangman may do to your slimy son, and whatever happens to the
little blonde fool he kidnapped, if you've laid a hand on my kid
I'll kick you to death, if I follow you round the world to do
it."
Zani Chada made no reply, but his knuckles gleamed, so tightly
did he clutch the knobs on the chair arms. Kerry's savagery
would have awed any man, even though he had supposed it to be the
idle threat of a passionate man. But Zani Chada knew all men,
and he knew this one. When Daniel Kerry declared that in given
circumstances he would kick Zani Chada to death, he did not mean
that he would shoot him, strangle him, or even beat him with his
fists; he meant precisely what he said--that he would kick him to
death--and Zani Chada knew it.
Thus there were some moments of tense silence during which the
savage face of the Chief Inspector drew even closer to the gaunt,
yellow face of the Eurasian. Finally:
"Listen only for one moment," said Zani Chada. His voice had
lost its guttural intonation. He spoke softly, sibilantly. "I,
too, am a father------"
"Don't mince words!" shouted Kerry. "You've kidnapped my boy.
If I have to tear your house down brick by brick I'll find him.
And if you've hurt one hair of his head--you know what to
expect!"
He quivered. The effort of suppression which he had imposed upon
himself was frightful to witness. Zani Chada, student of men,
knew that in despite of his own physical strength and of the
hidden resources at his beck, he stood nearer to primitive
retribution than he had ever done. Yet:
"I understand," he continued. "But you do not understand. Your
boy is not in this house. Oh! violence cannot avail! It can
only make his loss irreparable."
Kerry, nostrils distended, eyes glaring madly, bent over him.
"Your scallywag of a son," he said hoarsely, "has gone one step
too far. His adventures have twice before ended in murder--and
you have covered him. This time you can't do it. I'm not to be
bought. We've stood for the Far East in London long enough.
Your cub hangs this time. Get me? There'll be no bargaining.
The woman's reputation won't stop me. My kid's danger won't stop
me. But if you try to use him as a lever I'll boot you to your
stinking yellow paradise and they'll check you in as pulp."
"You speak of three deaths," murmured Zani Chada.
Kerry clenched his teeth so tightly that his maxillary muscles
protruded to an abnormal degree. He thrust his clenched fists
into his coat pockets.
"We all follow our vocations in life," resumed the Eurasian, "to
the best of our abilities. But is professional kudos not too
dearly bought at the price of a loved one lost for ever? A far
better bargain would be, shall we say, ten thousand pounds, as
the price of a silk handkerchief------"
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