The Orange-Yellow Diamond
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
THE L500 BANK NOTE
Ayscough drew the sheet over the dead man's face and signed to hiscompanion to follow him outside, to a room where Melky Rubinstein,still gravely meditating over the events of the evening, was awaitingtheir reappearance.
"So that," said Ayscough, jerking his thumb in the direction of themortuary, "that's Chen Li! You're certain?"
"Chen Li! without a doubt!" answered the house-surgeon. "I know himwell!"
"The younger of the two?" suggested Ayscough.
The house-surgeon shook his head.
"I can't say as to that," he answered. "It would be difficult to tellwhich of two Chinese, of about the same age, was the older. But that'sChen. He and the other, Chang Li, are very much alike, but Chen was asomewhat smaller and shorter man."
"What do you know of them?" inquired Ayscough. "Can you say what'sknown at your hospital?"
"Very little," replied the house-surgeon. "They entered, as studentsthere--we have several foreigners--about last Christmas--perhaps at theNew Year. All that I know of them is that they were like mostEasterns--very quiet, unassuming, inoffensive fellows, very assiduousin their studies and duties, never giving any trouble, and verypunctual in their attendance."
"And, you say, they haven't been seen at the hospital for some days?"continued Ayscough. "Now, can you tell me--it's important--since whatprecise date they've been absent?"
The house-surgeon reflected for a moment--then he suddenly drew out asmall memorandum book from an inner pocket.
"Perhaps I can," he answered, turning the pages over. "Yes--both thesemen should have been in attendance on me--a class of my own, youknow--on the 20th, at 10.35. They didn't turn up. I've never seen themsince--in fact, I'm sure they've never been at the hospital since."
"The 20th?" observed Ayscough. He looked at Melky, who was paying greatattention to the conversation. "Now let's see--old Mr. Multenius methis death on the afternoon of the 18th. Parslett was poisoned on thenight of the 19th. Um!"
"And Parslett was picked up about half-way between the Chink's houseand his own place, Mr. Ayscough--don't you forget that!" mutteredMelky. "I'm not forgetting--don't you make no error!"
"You don't know anything more that you could tell us about these two?"asked the detective, nodding reassuringly at Melky and then turning tothe house-surgeon. "Any little thing?--you never know what helps."
"I can't!" said the house-surgeon, who was obviously greatly surprisedby what he had seen and heard. "These Easterns keep very much tothemselves, you know. I can't think of anything."
"Don't know anything of their associates--friends--acquaintances?"suggested Ayscough. "I suppose they had some--amongst your students?"
"I never saw them in company with anybody--particularly--except a youngJapanese who was in some of their classes," replied the house-surgeon."I have seen them talking with him--in Gower Street."
"What's his name?" asked Ayscough, pulling out a note-book.
"Mr. Mori Yada," answered the house-surgeon promptly. "He lives inGower Street--I don't know the precise number of the house. Yes, that'sthe way to spell his name. He's the only man I know who seemed to knowthese two."
"Have you seen him lately?" asked Ayscough.
"Oh, yes--regularly--today, in fact," said the house-surgeon.
He waited a moment in evident expectation of other questions; as thedetective asked none--"I gather," he remarked, "that Chang Li hasdisappeared?"
"The house these two occupied is empty," replied Ayscough.
"I am going to suggest something," said the house-surgeon. "Iknow--from personal observation--that there is a tea-shop in TottenhamCourt Road--a sort of quiet, privately-owned place--Pilmansey's--whichthese two used to frequent. I don't know if that's of any use to you?"
"Any detail is of use, sir," answered Ayscough, making another note."Now, I'll tell this taxi-man to drive you back to the hospital. Ishall call there tomorrow morning, and I shall want to see this youngJapanese gentleman, too. I daresay you see that this is a case ofmurder--and there's more behind it!"
"You suspect Chang Li?" suggested the house-surgeon as they went out tothe cab.
"Couldn't say that--yet," replied Ayscough, grimly. "For anything Iknow, Chang Li may have been murdered, too. But I've a pretty goodnotion what Chen Li was knifed for!"
When the house-surgeon had gone away, Ayscough turned to Melky.
"Come back to Molteno Lodge," he said. "They're searching it. Let's seeif they've found anything of importance."
The house which had been as lifeless and deserted when Melky and thedetective visited it earlier in the evening was full enough of energyand animation when they went back. One policeman kept guard at thefront gate; another at the door of the yard; within the house itself,behind closed doors and drawn shutters and curtains, every room waslighted and the lynx-eyed men were turning the place upside down. Onefeature of the search struck the newcomers immediately--the patch ofground whereon Melky had found the dead man had been carefully ropedoff. Ayscough made a significant motion of his hand towards it.
"Good!" he said, "that shows they've found footprints. That may beuseful. Let's hear what else they've found."
The man in charge of these operations was standing within thedining-room when Ayscough and Melky walked in, and he at once beckonedthem into the room and closed the door.
"We've made two or three discoveries," he said, glancing at Ayscough."To start with, there were footprints of a rather unusual sort roundthese bushes where the man was lying--so I've had it carefully fencedin around there--we'll have a better look at 'em, in daylight. Verysmall prints, you understand--more like a woman's than a man's."
Ayscough's sharp eyes turned to the hearth--there were two or threepairs of slippers lying near the fender and he pointed to them.
"These Chinamen have very small feet, I believe," he said. "Thefootprints are probably theirs. Well--what else?"
"This," answered the man in charge, producing a small parcel from theside-pocket of his coat, and proceeding to divest it of a temporarywrapping. "Perhaps Mr. Rubinstein will recognize it. We found it thrownaway in a fire-grate in one of the bedrooms upstairs--you see, it'shalf burnt."
He produced a small, stoutly-made cardboard box, some three inchessquare, the outer surface of which was covered with a thick,glossy-surfaced dark-green paper, on which certain words were deeplyimpressed in gilt letters. The box was considerably charred and onlyfragments of the lettering on the lid remained intact--but it was notdifficult to make out what the full wording had been.
. . . . _enius_, . . ._nd jeweller_, . . _ed Street_.
"That's one of the late Mr. Multenius's boxes," affirmed Melky at once."Daniel Multenius, Pawnbroker and Jeweller, Praed Street--that's thefull wording. Found in a fireplace, d'ye say, mister? Ah--and what hadhe taken out of it before he threw the box away, now, Mr.Ayscough--whoever it was that did throw it away?"
"That blessed orange and yellow diamond, I should think!" saidAyscough. "Of course! Well, anything else?"
The man in charge carefully wrapped up and put away the jeweller's box;then, with a significant glance at his fellow-detective, he slipped acouple of fingers into his waistcoat pocket and drew out what lookedlike a bit of crumpled paper.
"Aye!" he answered. "This! Found it--just there! Lying on the floor, atthe end of this table."
He opened out the bit of crumpled paper as he spoke and held it towardsthe other two. Ayscough stared, almost incredulously, and Melky let outa sharp exclamation.
"S'elp us!" he said. "A five-hundred-pound bank-note!"
"That's about it," remarked the exhibitor. "Bank of England note forfive hundred of the best! And--a good 'un, too. Lying on the floor."
"Take care of it," said Ayscough laconically. "Well--you haven't foundany papers, documents, or anything of that sort, that give any clue?"
"There's a lot of stuff there," answered the man in charge, pointing toa pile of books and papers on
the table, "but it seems to be chieflyexercises and that sort of thing. I'll look through it myself, later."
"See if you can find any letters, addresses, and so on," counselledAyscough. He turned over some of the books, all of them medical worksand text-books, opening some of them at random. And suddenly he caughtsight of the name which the house-surgeon had given him half-an-hourbefore, written on a fly-leaf: Mori Yada, 491, Gower Street--and anidea came into his mind. He bade the man in charge keep his eyes openand leave nothing unexamined, and tapping Melky's arm, led him outside."Look here!" he said, drawing out his watch, as they crossed the hall,"it's scarcely ten o'clock, and I've got the address of that young Jap.Come on--we'll go and ask him a question or two."
So for the second time that evening, Melky, who was beginning to feelas if he were on a chase which pursued anything but a straight course,found himself in Gower Street again, and followed Ayscough along,wondering what was going to happen next, until the detective paused atthe door of a tall house in the middle of the long thoroughfare andrang the bell. A smart maid answered that ring and looked dubiously atAyscough as he proffered a request to see Mr. Mori Yada. Yes--Mr. Yadawas at home, but he didn't like to see any one, of an evening when hewas at his studies, and--in fact he'd given orders not to be disturbedat that time.
"I think he'll see me, all the same," said Ayscough, drawing out one ofhis professional cards. "Just give him that, will you, and tell him mybusiness is very important."
He turned to Melky when the girl, still looking unwilling, had goneaway upstairs, and gave him a nudge of the elbow.
"When we get up there--as we shall," whispered Ayscough, "you watchthis Jap chap while I talk to him. Study his face--and see if anythingsurprises him."
"Biggest order, mister--with a Jap!" muttered Melky. "Might as welltell me to watch a stone image--their faces is like wood!"
"Try it!" said Ayscough. "Flicker of an eyelid--twist of thelip--anything! Here's the girl back again."
A moment later Melky, treading close on the detective's heels, foundhimself ushered into a brilliantly-lighted, rather over-heated room,somewhat luxuriously furnished, wherein, in the easiest of chairs, acigar in his lips, a yellow-backed novel in his hand, sat aslimly-built, elegant young gentleman whose face was melting to a smile.