Detective Durham, as he lay there inhaling the peculiar perfume of the
place, recognized that he had put himself outside the pale of official
protection, and was become technically a burglar.
He wondered if Chief Inspector Kerry would have approved; but he had
outlined this plan of investigation for himself, and knew well that,
if it were crowned by success, the end would be regarded as having
justified the means. On the other hand, in the event of detention he
must personally bear the consequences of such irregular behaviour. He
knew well, however, that his celebrated superior had achieved promotion
by methods at least as irregular; and he knew that if he could but
obtain evidence to account for the death of the man Cohen, and of the
Chinaman Pi Lung, who had preceded him by the same mysterious path, the
way of his obtaining it would not be too closely questioned.
He was an ambitious man, and consequently one who took big chances.
Nothing disturbed the silence; he sat upon the divan and again pressed
the button of his torch, shining it all about the low-beamed apartment
and peering curiously into the weird shadows of the place. He calculated
he was now in the position which Cohen had occupied during the last
moments of his life, and a sense of the uncanny touched him coldly.
As he thought of the unnatural screams spoken of by Poland, some strange
instinct prompted him to curl up his feet upon the divan again, as
though a secret menace crawled upon the floor amid its many rugs and
carpets.
He must now endeavour to reconstruct the plan upon which the American
cracksman had operated. Poland had a persistent belief that Cohen had
known where the fabled hoard of Huang Chow was concealed.
Durham began a deliberate inspection of the place. He thought it
unlikely that a wily old Chinaman, assuming that he possessed hidden
wealth, would keep it in so accessible a spot as this. It was far more
probable that he had a fireproof safe in the room upstairs, perhaps
built into the wall. Yet, according to Poland's account, it was in this
room and not in any other that death came to Diamond Fred.
The wall-hangings first engaged Durham's attention. He moved them aside
systematically, one after another, seeking for any hiding-place, but
failing to find one. The door communicating with the outer office he
found to be locked, but he did not believe for a moment that the office
would be worthy of inspection.
There were cases containing jewelled weapons and cups and goblets inlaid
with precious stones, but none of these seemed to have been tampered
with, and all were locked, as was the big cabinet filled with snuff
bottles.
Many of the larger pieces about the place contained drawers and
cupboards, and these he systematically opened one after another, without
making any discovery of note. Some of the cupboards contained broken
pieces of crockery, and more or less damaged curios of one kind and
another, but none of them gave him the clue for which he was seeking.
He examined the couch upon which Huang Chow had been seated when first
he had met him, but although he searched it scientifically he was
rewarded by no discovery.
A very fusty and unpleasant smell was more noticeable at this point than
elsewhere in the room, and he found himself staring speculatively up
the wide, carpeted stairs. Next he turned his attention to the lacquered
coffin which occupied the corresponding recess to that filled by the
couch. It was an extraordinarily ornate piece of lacquer work and
probably of great value.
The lid appeared to be screwed on, and Durham stood staring at the
thing, half revolted and half fascinated. He failed to discover any
means of opening it, however, and when he tried to move it bodily found
it very heavy. He came to the conclusion that all the portable valuables
were contained in locked cases or cabinets, and out of this discovery
grew an idea.
The case containing the snuff bottles stood too close to the wall to
enable him to test his new theory, but a square case near the office
door, in which were five of six small but almost priceless pieces of
porcelain, afforded the very evidence for which he was looking.
Thin electric flex descended from somewhere inside the case down one
of the legs of the pedestal, and through a neatly drilled hole in the
floor, evidently placed there to accommodate it.
“Burglar alarm!” he muttered.
The opening of this case, and doubtless of any of the others, would
set alarm bells ringing. This was not an unimportant discovery, but it
brought him very little nearer to a solution of the chief problem which
engaged his mind. Assuming that Cohen had opened one of the cases and
had alarmed old Huang Chow, what steps had the latter taken to deal with
the intruder which had resulted in so ghastly a death? And how had he
disposed of the body?
As Durham stood there musing and looking down through the plate-glass at
the delicate porcelain beneath, a faint sound intruded itself upon the
stillness. It gave him another idea. Part of the floor was stone-paved,
but part was wood.
Upon a portion of the latter, where no carpet rested, Durham dropped
flat, pressing his ear to the floor.
A faint swishing and trickling sound was perceptible from some place
beneath.
“Ah!” he murmured.
Remembering that the premises almost overhung the Thames, he divined
that the cellars were flooded at high tide, or that there was some kind
of drain or cutting running underneath the house.
He stood up again, listening intently for any sound within the building.
He thought he had detected something, and now, as he stood there alert,
he heard it again--a faint scuffling, which might have been occasioned
by rats or even mice, but which, in some subtle and very unpleasant way,
did not suggest the movements of these familiar rodents.
Even as he perceived it, it ceased, leaving him wondering, and
uncomfortably conscious of a sudden dread of his surroundings. He
wondered in what part of this mysterious house Lala resided, and
recognizing that his departure must leave traces, he determined to
prosecute his inquiries as far as possible, since another opportunity
might not arise.
He was baffled but still hopeful. Something there was in the smell of
the place which threatened to unnerve him; or perhaps in its silence,
which remained quite unbroken save when, by acute listening, one
detected the dripping of water.
That unexplained scuffling sound, too, which he had failed to trace
or identify, lingered in his memory insistently, and for some reason
contained the elements of fear.
He crossed the room and began softly to mount the stair. It creaked only
slightly, and the door at the top proved to be ajar. He peeped in, to
find the place empty. It was a typical Chinese apartment, containing
very little furniture, the raised desk being the most noticeable item,
except for a small shrine which faced it on the other side of the room.
He mounted the steps to the desk and inspected a number of loose papers
which lay upon it. Without exception they were written in Chinese.
A sort of large, dull white blotting-pad lay upon the table, but its
surface was smooth and glossy.
Over it was suspended what looked like a lampshade, but on inspection it
proved to contain no lamp, but to communicate, by a sort of funnel, with
the ceiling above.
At this contrivance Durham stared long and curiously, but without coming
to any conclusion respecting its purpose. He might have investigated
further, but he became aware of a dull and regular sound in the room
behind him.
He turned in a flash, staring in the direction of two curtains draped
before what he supposed to be a door.
On tiptoe he crossed and gently drew the curtains aside.
He looked into a small, cell-like room, lighted by one window, where
upon a low bed Huang Chow lay sleeping peacefully!
Durham almost held his breath; then, withdrawing as quietly as he had
approached, he descended the stair. At the foot his attention was again
arrested by the faint scuffling sound. It ceased as suddenly as it
had begun, leaving him wondering and conscious anew of a chill of
apprehension.
He had already made his plans for departure, but knew that they must
leave evidence, when discovered, of his visit.
A large and solid table stood near the divan, and he moved this
immediately under the trap. Upon it he laid a leopard-skin to deaden
any noise he might make, and then upon the leopard-skin he set a massive
chair: he replaced his torch in his pocket and drew himself up on to the
roof again. Reclosing the trap by means of the awl which he had screwed
into it, he removed the awl and placed it in his pocket.
Then, sliding gently down the sloping roof, he dropped back into the
deserted court.