Part 15 (1/2)

The Chinaman moved his head very slightly.

”No,” he answered. ”Not in London--nor in England. But I knew a man named Chuh Fen ten, eleven, years ago, before I went to Bombay and entered my present service.”

”Where did you know him?” asked Scarterfield.

”Two--perhaps three places,” said Wing. ”Singapore, Penang, perhaps Rangoon, too. I remember him.”

”What was he?”

”A cook--very good cook.”

”Would you be surprised to hear of his being in England three years ago?”

”Not at all. Many Chinamen come here. I myself--why not others? If Chuh Fen came here, three years ago, perhaps he came as cook on some s.h.i.+p trading from China or Burma. Then--go back again.”

”I wonder if he did!” muttered the detective. ”Still,” he continued, turning to Wing, ”a lot of your people when they come here, stop, don't they?”

”Many stop in this country,” said Wing.

”Laundry business, eating-houses, groceries, and so on?” suggested Scarterfield. ”And chiefly in the places I've mentioned, eh?--the East End of London, Liverpool, and the two big Welsh towns? Now, I want to ask you a question. This man I'm talking of, Chuh Fen, was certainly in London three years ago. Are there places and people in London where one could get to hear of him?”

”Where I could get to hear of him--yes,” answered Wing.

”You say--where you could get to hear of him,” remarked Scarterfield.

”Does that mean that you would get information which I shouldn't get?”

The very faintest ghost of a smile showed itself in the wrinkles about the Chinaman's eyes. He inclined his head a little, politely, and Lorrimore stepped into the arena.

”What Wing means is that being a Chinaman himself, naturally he could get news of a fellow-Chinaman from fellow-Chinamen where you, an Englishman, wouldn't get any at all!” he said with a laugh. ”I dare say that if you, Mr. Scarterfield, went down Limehouse way seeking particulars about Chuh Fen, you'd be met with blank faces and stopped ears.”

”That's just what I'm suggesting, doctor,” answered the detective, good-humouredly. ”I'll put the thing in a nutsh.e.l.l--my profound belief is that if we want to get at the bottom of these two murders we've got to go back a long way, to the _Elizabeth Robinson_ time, and that Chuh Fen is the only person I've heard of, up to now, who can throw a light on that episode. And it seems to me, to be plain about it, that Mr.

Wing there could be extremely useful.”

”How?” asked Lorrimore. ”He's at your service, I'm sure.”

”Well, by finding out if this Chuh Fen, when he was here, three years since, made any revelations to his Chinese brethren in Limehouse or elsewhere,” replied Scarterfield. ”He may have known something about the brothers Quick and concerning that _Elizabeth Robinson_ affair that would help immensely. Any little thing!--a mere sc.r.a.p of information--just a bit of chance gossip--a hint--you don't know how valuable these things are. The mere germ of a clue--you know!”

”I know,” said Lorrimore. He turned to his servant and addressed him in some strange tongue in which Wing at once responded: for some minutes they talked together, volubly: then Lorrimore looked round at Scarterfield.

”Wing says that if Chuh Fen was in London three years ago he can engage to find out how long he was here, whence he came and why, and where he went,” he said. ”I gather that there's a sort of freemasonry amongst these men--naturally, they seek each other out in strange lands, and there are places in London and the other parts to which a Chinaman resorts if he happens to land in England. This he can do for you--he's no doubt of it.”

”There's another thing,” said Scarterfield. ”If Chuh Fen is still in England--as he may be--can he find him?”

Wing's smooth countenance, on hearing this, showed some sign of animation. Instead of replying to the detective, he again addressed his master in the foreign tongue. Lorrimore nodded and turned to Scarterfield with a slightly cynical smile.

”He says that if Chuh Fen is anywhere in England he can lay hands on him, quickly,” said Lorrimore. ”But--he adds that it might not be at all convenient to Chuh Fen to come into the full light of day: Chuh Fen may have reasons of his own for desiring strict privacy.”

”I take you!” said Scarterfield, with a wink. ”All right, doctor! If Mr. Wing can unearth Mr. Chuh Fen and that mysterious gentleman can give me a tip, I'll respect his privacy! So now--do we get at something? Do I understand that your man will help us by trying to find out some particulars of Chuh Fen, or laying hands on Chuh Fen himself? All expenses defrayed, you know,” he went on, turning to Wing, ”and a handsome remuneration if it leads to results. And--follow your own plans! I know you Chinamen are smart and deep at this sort of thing!”

”Leave it to him,” said Lorrimore. ”To him and to me. If there's news to be had of this man Chuh Fen, he'll get it.”

”Then that is something done!” exclaimed Scarterfield, rubbing his hands. ”Good!--I like to see even a bit of progress. But now, while I'm here, and while we're at business--and I hope this young lady doesn't find it dull business!--there's another matter. The inspector tells me there have been alarums and excursions about a certain tobacco-box which was found on Salter Quick, that Mr. Cazalette--you, sir, I think--had had various experiments in connection with it, and that the thing has been stolen. Now, I want to know all about that!--who can tell me most?”