JOHN KI'S
"What is the meaning of Si-Fan?" asked Detective-sergeant Fletcher.
He stood looking from the window at the prospect below; at the trees
bordering the winding embankment; at the ancient monolith which for
unnumbered ages had looked across desert sands to the Nile, and now
looked down upon another river of many mysteries. The view seemed to
absorb his attention. He spoke without turning his head.
Nayland Smith laughed shortly.
"The Si-Fan are the natives of Eastern Tibet," he replied.
"But the term has some other significance, sir?" said the detective;
his words were more of an assertion than a query.
"It has," replied my friend grimly. "I believe it to be the name, or
perhaps the sigil, of an extensive secret society with branches
stretching out into every corner of the Orient."
We were silent for awhile. Inspector Weymouth, who sat in a chair near
the window, glanced appreciatively at the back of his subordinate, who
still stood looking out. Detective-sergeant Fletcher was one of
Scotland Yard's coming men. He had information of the first importance
to communicate, and Nayland Smith had delayed his departure upon an
urgent errand in order to meet him.
"Your case to date, Mr. Smith," continued Fletcher, remaining with
hands locked behind him, staring from the window, "reads something like
this, I believe: A brass box, locked, contents unknown, has come into
your possession. It stands now upon the table there. It was brought
from Tibet by a man who evidently thought that it had something to
do with the Si-Fan. He is dead, possibly by the agency of members of
this group. No arrests have been made. You know that there are people
here in London who are anxious to regain the box. You have theories
respecting the identity of some of them, but there are practically no
facts."
Nayland Smith nodded his head.
"Exactly!" he snapped.
"Inspector Weymouth, here," continued Fletcher, "has put me in
possession of such facts as are known to him, and I believe that I
have had the good fortune to chance upon a valuable one."
"You interest me, Sergeant Fletcher," said Smith. "What is the nature
of this clue?"
"I will tell you," replied the other, and turned briskly upon his heel
to face us.
He had a dark, clean-shaven face, rather sallow complexion, and
deep-set, searching eyes. There was decision in the square, cleft chin
and strong character in the cleanly chiseled features. His manner was
alert.
"I have specialized in Chinese crime," he said; "much of my time is
spent amongst our Asiatic visitors. I am fairly familiar with the
Easterns who use the port of London, and I have a number of useful
acquaintances among them."
Nayland Smith nodded. Beyond doubt Detective-sergeant Fletcher knew
his business.
"To my lasting regret," Fletcher continued, "I never met the late Dr.
Fu-Manchu. I understand, sir, that you believe him to have been a high
official of this dangerous society? However, I think we may get in
touch with some other notabilities; for instance, I'm told that one
of the people you're looking for has been described as 'the man with
the limp'?"
Smith, who had been about to relight his pipe, dropped the match on
the carpet and set his foot upon it. His eyes shone like steel.
"'The man with the limp,'" he said, and slowly rose to his feet--"what
do you know of the man with the limp?"
Fletcher's face flushed slightly; his words had proved more dramatic
than he had anticipated.
"There's a place down Shadwell way," he replied, "of which, no doubt,
you will have heard; it has no official title, but it is known to
habitués as the Joy-Shop...."
Inspector Weymouth stood up, his burly figure towering over that of
his slighter confrère.
"I don't think you know John Ki's, Mr. Smith," he said. "We keep all
those places pretty well patrolled, and until this present business
cropped up, John's establishment had never given us any trouble."
"What is this Joy-Shop?" I asked.
"A resort of shady characters, mostly Asiatics," replied Weymouth.
"It's a gambling-house, an unlicensed drinking-shop, and even worse--
but it's more use to us open than it would be shut."
"It is one of my regular jobs to keep an eye on the visitors to the
Joy-Shop," continued Fletcher. "I have many acquaintances who use the
place. Needless to add, they don't know my real business! Well,
lately several of them have asked me if I know who the man is that
hobbles about the place with two sticks. Everybody seems to have
heard him, but no one has seen him."
Nayland Smith began to pace the floor restlessly.
"I have heard him myself," added Fletcher, "but never managed to get
so much as a glimpse of him. When I learnt about this Si-Fan mystery,
I realized that he might very possibly be the man for whom you're
looking--and a golden opportunity has cropped up for you to visit the
Joy-Shop, and, if our luck remains in, to get a peep behind the scenes."
"I am all attention," snapped Smith.
"A woman called Zarmi has recently put in an appearance at the
Joy-Shop. Roughly speaking, she turned up at about the same time as
the unseen man with the limp...."
Nayland Smith's eyes were blazing with suppressed excitement; he was
pacing quickly up and down the floor, tugging at the lobe of his left
ear.
"She is--different in some way from any other woman I have ever seen
in the place. She's a Eurasian and good-looking, after a tigerish
fashion. I have done my best"--he smiled slightly--"to get in her good
books, and up to a point I've succeeded. I was there last night, and
Zarmi asked me if I knew what she called a 'strong feller.'
"'These,' she informed me, contemptuously referring to the rest of the
company, 'are poor weak Johnnies!'
"I had nothing definite in view at the time, for I had not then heard
about your return to London, but I thought it might lead to something
anyway, so I promised to bring a friend along to-night. I don't know
what we're wanted to do, but ..."
"Count on me!" snapped Smith. "I will leave all details to you and to
Weymouth, and I will be at New Scotland Yard this evening in time to
adopt a suitable disguise. Petrie"--he turned impetuously to me--"I
fear I shall have to go without you; but I shall be in safe company,
as you see, and doubtless Weymouth can find you a part in his portion
of the evening's program."
He glanced at his watch.
"Ah! I must be off. If you will oblige me, Petrie, by putting the
brass box into my smaller portmanteau, whilst I slip my coat on,
perhaps Weymouth, on his way out, will be good enough to order a taxi.
I shall venture to breathe again once our unpleasant charge is safely
deposited in the bank vaults!"