CHAPTER IV
I MEET AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE
On the corner opposite Dr. Stuart's establishment stood a house whichwas "to be let or sold." From the estate-agent whose name appearedupon the notice-board I obtained the keys--and had a duplicate made ofthat which opened the front door. It was a simple matter, and thelocksmith returned both keys to me within an hour. I informed theagent that the house would not suit me.
Nevertheless, having bolted the door, in order that prospectivepurchasers might not surprise me, I "camped out" in an upper room allday, watching from behind the screen of trees all who came to the houseof Dr. Stuart. Dusk found me still at my post, armed with a pair ofgood binoculars. Every patient who presented himself I scrutinizedcarefully, and finding as the darkness grew that it became increasinglydifficult to discern the features of visitors, I descended to the frontgarden and resumed my watch from the lower branches of a tree whichstood some twenty feet from the roadway.
At selected intervals I crept from my post and surveyed the lane uponwhich the window of the consulting-room opened and also the pathleading to the tradesmen's entrance, from which one might look acrossthe lawn and in at the open study windows. It was during one of thesetours of inspection and whilst I was actually peering through a gap inthe hedge, that I heard the telephone bell. Dr. Stuart was in thestudy and I heard him speaking.
I gathered that his services were required immediately at someinstitution in the neighbourhood. I saw him take his hat, stick andbag from the sofa and go out of the room. Then I returned to the frontgarden of my vacant house.
No one appeared for some time. A policeman walked slowly up the road,and flashed his lantern in at the gate of the house I had commandeered.His footsteps died away. Then, faintly, I heard the hum of a powerfulmotor. I held my breath. The approaching car turned into the road ata point above me to the right, came nearer ... and stopped before Dr.Stuart's door.
I focussed my binoculars upon the chauffeur.
It was the brown-skinned man! _Nom d'un nom!_ a _woman_ was descendingform the car. She was enveloped in furs and I could not see her face.She walked up the steps to the door and was admitted.
The chauffeur backed the car into the lane beside the house.
My heart beating rapidly with excitement, I crept out by the furthergate of the drive, crossed the road at a point fifty yards above thehouse and walking very quietly came back to the tradesmen's entrance.Into its enveloping darkness I glided and on until I could peep acrossthe lawn.
The elegant visitor, as I hoped, had been shown, not into the ordinarywaiting-room but into the doctor's study. She was seated with her backto the window, talking to a grey-haired old lady--probably thedoctor's housekeeper. Impatiently I waited for this old lady to depart,and the moment that she did so, the visitor stood up, turned and ...it was _Zara el-Khala!_
It was only with difficulty that I restrained the cry of triumph whicharose to my lips. On the instant that the study door closed, Zarael-Khala began to try a number of keys which she took from her handbagupon the various drawers of the bureau!
"So!" I said--"they are uncertain of the drawer!"
Suddenly she desisted, looking nervously at the open windows; then,crossing the room, she drew the curtains. I crept out into the roadagain and by the same roundabout route came back to the empty house.Feeling my way in the darkness of the shrubbery, I found the motorbicycle which I had hidden there and I wheeled it down to the furthergate of the drive and waited.
I could see the doctor's door, and I saw him returning along the road.As he appeared, from somewhere---I could not determine from where--camea strange and uncanny wailing sound, a sound that chilled me like anevil omen.
Even as it died away, and before Dr. Stuart had reached his door Iknew what it portended--that horrible wail. Some one hidden I knew notwhere, had warned Zara el-Khala that the doctor returned! But stay!Perhaps that some one was the dark-skinned chauffeur!
How I congratulated myself upon the precautions which I had taken toescape observation. Evidently the watcher had placed himself somewherewhere he could command a view of the front door and the road.
Five minutes later the girl came out, the old housekeeper accompanyingher to the door, the car emerged from the lane, Zara el-Khalaentered it and was driven away. I could see no one seated beside thechauffeur. I started my "Indian" and leapt in pursuit.
As I had anticipated, the route was Eastward, and I found myselftraversing familiar ground. From the south-west to the east of Londonwhirled the big car of mystery--and I was ever close behind it.Sometimes, in the crowded streets, I lost sight of my quarry for atime, but always I caught up again, and at last I found myself whirlingalong Commercial Road and not fifty yards behind the car.
Just by the canal bridge a drunken sailor lurched out in front of mywheel, and only by twisting perilously right into a turning called, Ibelieve, Salmon Lane, did I avoid running him down.
_Sacre nom!_ how I cursed him! The lane was too narrow for me to turnand I was compelled to dismount and to wheel my "Indian" back to thehighroad. The yellow car had vanished, of course, but I took it forgranted that it had followed the main road. At a dangerous speed,pursued by execrations from the sailor and all his friends, I set offeast once more turning to the right down West India Dock Road.
Arriving at the dock, and seeing nothing ahead of me but desolationand ships' masts, I knew that that inebriated pig had spoiledeverything! I could have sat down upon the dirty pavement and wept,so mortified was I! For if Zara el-Khala had secured the envelope Ihad missed my only chance.
However, _pardieu!_ I have said that despair is not permitted by theBureau. I rode home to my hotel, deep in reflection. Whether the girlhad the envelope or not, at least she had escaped detection by thedoctor; therefore if she had failed she would try again. I could sleepin peace until the morrow.
Of the following day, which I spent as I had spent the preceding one,I have nothing to record. At about the same time in the evening theyellow car again rolled into view, and on this occasion I devoted allmy attention to the dark-skinned chauffeur, upon whom I directed myglasses.
As the girl alighted and spoke to him for a moment, he raised thegoggles which habitually he wore and I saw his face. A theory which Ihad formed on the previous night proved correct. The chauffeur was theHindu, Chunda Lal! As Zara el-Khala walked up the steps he backedthe car into the narrow lane and I watched him constantly. Yet, watchas closely as I might, I could not see where he concealed himself inorder to command a view of the road.
On this occasion, as I know, Dr. Stuart was at home. Nevertheless, thegirl stayed for close upon half an hour, and I began to wonder if somenew move had been planned. Suddenly the door opened and she came out.
I crept through the bushes to my bicycle and wheeled it on to thedrive. I saw the car start; but Madame Fortune being in playful mood,my own engine refused to start at all, and when ten minutes later Iat last aroused a spark of life in the torpid machine I knew thatpursuit would be futile.
Since this record is intended for the guidance of those who take upthe quest of "The Scorpion" either in co-operation with myself or,in the event of my failure, alone, it would be profitless for me torecord my disasters. Very well, I had one success. One night I pursuedthe yellow car from Dr. Stuart's house to the end of LimehouseCauseway without once losing sight of it.
A string of lorries form the docks, drawn by a traction engine, checkedme at the corner for a time, although the yellow car passed. But Iraced furiously on and by great good luck overtook it near the DockStation. From thence onward pursuing a strangely tortuous route, Ikept it in sight to Canning Town, when it turned into a public garage.I followed--to purchase petrol.
Chunda Lal was talking to the man in charge; he had not yet left hisseat. But the car was empty!
At first I was stupid with astonishment. _Par la barbe du prophete!_ Iwas astounded. Then I saw that I had really made a great discovery.The street into which I had injudiciously followed
"Le Balafre" laybetween Limehouse Causeway and Ropemaker Street, and it was at no greatdistance from this point that I had lost sight of the yellow car. Inthat street, which according to my friend the policeman was "nearlyall Chinese," Zara el-Khala had descended; in that street was "TheScorpion's" lair!