“When I went in with Cohen,” continued Poland, “I knew one thing
he didn't know--a short cut into the warehouse. He's been playing
pretty-like with Lala, old Huang's daughter, and it's my belief that
he knew where the store was hidden; but he never told me. We knew there
were special men on duty, and we'd arranged that I was to give a signal
when the patrol had passed. Cohen all the time had planned to double on
me. While I was watching down on the Causeway end he climbed up and got
in through the skylight I'd shown him. When I got there he was missing,
but the skylight was open. I started off after him.”
Then Poland clutched me, and his fright was very real.
“I heard a shriek like nothing I ever heard in my life. I saw a light
shine through the trap, and then I heard a sort of moaning. Last, I
heard a bang, and the light went out. I staggered down the passage half
silly, started to run, and ran straight into the arms of two coppers.”
This evidence I thought was conclusive, and in accordance with your
instructions I proceeded to Mr. Isaacs in Dover Street. He didn't seem
too pleased at my suggestion, but when I pointed out to him that one
good turn deserved another, he agreed to give me an introduction to
Huang Chow.
I adopted a very simple disguise, just altering my complexion and
sticking on a moustache with spirit gum, hair by hair, and trimming it
down military fashion. Everything ran smoothly, and I seemed to make a
fairly favourable impression upon Lala Huang, the Chinaman's daughter,
who evidently interviews prospective customers before they are admitted
to the warehouse.
She is a Eurasian and extremely good looking. But when I found myself
in the room where old Huang keeps his treasures, I really thought I was
dreaming. It's a collection that must be worth thousands. He showed me
snuff-bottles, cut out of gems, and with a little opening no bigger than
the hole in a pipe-stem, but with wonderful paintings done inside the
bottles. He'd got a model of a pagoda made out of human teeth, and a big
golden rug woven from the hair of Circassian slave girls. Excuse this,
Chief Inspector; I know it is what you call the romantic stuff; but I
think it would have impressed you if you had seen it.
Anyway, I bought a little enamelled box, in accordance with Mr. Isaacs's
instructions, although whether I succeeded in convincing Huang Chow that
I knew anything about the matter is more than doubtful. He got up from
a sort of throne he sits on, and led the way up a broad staircase to a
private room above.
“Of course, you have brought the cash, Mr. Hampden?” he said.
He speaks quite faultless English. He walked up three steps to a sort of
raised writing-table in this upstairs room, and I counted out the
money to him. When he sat at the table he faced toward the room, and I
couldn't help thinking that, in his horn-rimmed spectacles, he looked
like some old magistrate. He explained that he would pack the purchase
for me, but that I must personally take it away. And:
“You understand,” said he, “that you bought it from a gentleman who had
purchased it abroad.”
I said I quite understood. He bowed me out very politely, and presently
I found myself back in the office with Lala Huang.
She seemed quite disposed to talk, and I chatted with her while the box
was being packed for me to take away. I knew I must make good use of my
time, but you have never given me a job I liked less. I mean, there
is something very appealing about her, and I hated to think that I was
playing a double game. However, without actually agreeing to see me
again, she told me enough to enable me to meet her “accidentally,” if I
wanted to. Therefore, I am going to look out for her this evening, and
probably take her to a picture palace, or somewhere where we can have a
quiet talk. She seems to be fancy free, and for some reason I feel sorry
for the girl. I don't altogether like the job, but I hope to justify
your faith in me, Chief.