PERSONAL REPORT OF DETECTIVE JOHN DURHAM TO CHIEF INSPECTOR KERRY,
OFFICER IN CHARGE OF LIMEHOUSE INQUIRY
Dear Chief Inspector,--Following your instructions I returned and
interviewed the prisoner Poland in his cell. I took the line which
you had suggested, pointing out to him that he had nothing to gain and
everything to lose by keeping silent.
“Answer my questions,” I said, “and you can walk straight out.
Otherwise, you'll be up before the magistrate, and on your record alone
it will mean a holiday which you probably don't want.”
He was very truculent, but I got him in a good humour at last, and he
admitted that he had been cooperating with the dead man, Cohen, in an
attempt to burgle the house of Huang Chow. His reluctance to go into
details seemed to be due rather to fear of Huang Chow than to fear of
the law, and I presently gathered that he regarded Huang as responsible
for the death not only of Cohen, but also of the Chinaman who was
hauled out of the river about three weeks ago, as you well remember. The
post-mortem showed that he had died of some kind of poisoning, and when
we saw Cohen in the mortuary, his swollen appearance struck me as being
very similar to that of the Chinaman. (See my report dated 31st ultimo.)
He finally agreed to talk if I would promise that he should not be
charged and that his name should never be mentioned to anyone in
connection with what he might tell me. I promised him that outside the
ordinary official routine I would respect his request, and he told me
some very curious things, which no doubt have a bearing on the case.
For instance, he had discovered--I don't know in what way--that the dead
Chinaman, whose name was Pi Lung, had been in negotiation with Huang
Chow for some sort of job in his warehouse. Poland had seen the man
talking to Huang's daughter, at the end of the alley which leads to the
place. He seemed to attach extraordinary importance to this fact. At
last:
“I'll tell you what it is,” he said. “That Chink was a stranger to
Limehouse; I can swear to it. He was a gent of his hands; I reckon
they've got 'em in China as well as here. He went out for the old boy's
money-box, and finished like Cohen finished.”
“Make your meaning clearer,” I said.
“My meaning's this: Old Huang Chow is the biggest dealer in stolen and
smuggled valuables from overseas we've got in London. He's something
else as well; he's a big swell in China. But here's the point. He's
got business with buyers all over London, and they have to pay cash--no
checks. He doesn't bank it: I've proved that. He's got it in gold, or
diamonds, or something, being wise to present conditions, hidden there
in the house. Pi Lung was after his hoard. He didn't get it. Cohen and
me was after it. Where's Cohen?”