by Sax Rohmer
XXXVI
IN DUNBAR'S ROOM
Dr. Cumberly, his face unusually pale, stood over by the window ofInspector Dunbar's room, his hands locked behind him. In the chairnearest to the window sat Henry Leroux, so muffled up in a fur-collaredmotor-coat that little of his face was visible; but his eyes were tragicas he leant forward resting his elbows upon his knees and twirling hiscap between his thin fingers. He was watching Inspector Dunbar intently;only glancing from the gaunt face of the detective occasionally to lookat Denise Ryland, who sat close to the table. At such times his gaze waspathetically reproachful, but always rather sorrowful than angry.
As for Miss Ryland, her habitual self-confidence seemed somewhat tohave deserted her, and it was almost with respectful interest that shefollowed Dunbar's examination of a cabman who, standing cap in hand,completed the party so strangely come together at that late hour.
"This is what you have said," declared Dunbar, taking up an officialform, and, with a movement of his hand warning the taxi-man to payattention: "'I, Frederick Dean, motor-cab driver, was standing on therank in Little Abbey Street to-night at about a quarter to nine. My cabwas the second on the rank. A young lady who wore, I remember, a woolencap and jersey, with a blue serge skirt, ran out from the corner of theSquare and directed me to follow the cab in front of me, which had justbeen chartered by a dark man wearing a black overcoat and silk hat. Sheordered me to keep him in sight; and as I drove off I heard her callingfrom the window of my cab to another lady who seemed to be followingher. I was unable to see this other lady, but my fare addressed her as'Denise.' I followed the first cab to Whitechapel Station; and as Isaw it stop there, I swung into Mount Street. The lady gave mehalf-a-sovereign, and told me that she proposed to follow the man onfoot. She asked me if I could manage to keep her in sight, withoutletting my cab be seen by the man she was following. I said I wouldtry, and I crept along at some distance behind her, going as slowly aspossible until she went into a turning branching off to the right ofCambridge Road; I don't know the name of this street. She was somedistance ahead of me, for I had had trouble in crossing WhitechapelRoad.
"'A big limousine had passed me a moment before, but as an electric tramwas just going by on my off-side, between me and the limousine, I don'tknow where the limousine went. When I was clear of the tram I could notsee it, and it may have gone down Cambridge Road and then down the sameturning as the lady. I pulled up at the end of this turning, and couldnot see a sign of any one. It was quite deserted right to the end, andalthough I drove down, bore around to the right and finally came outnear the top of Globe Road, I did not pass anyone. I waited about thedistrict for over a quarter-of-an-hour and then drove straight to thepolice station, and they sent me on here to Scotland Yard to report whathad occurred.'
"Have you anything to add to that?" said Dunbar, fixing his tawny eyesupon the cabman.
"Nothing at all," replied the man--a very spruce and intelligentspecimen of his class and one who, although he had moved with the times,yet retained a slightly horsey appearance, which indicated that he hadnot always been a mechanical Jehu.
"It is quite satisfactory as far as it goes," muttered Dunbar. "I'll getyou to sign it now and we need not detain you any longer."
"There is not the slightest doubt," said Dr. Cumberly, stepping forwardand speaking in an unusually harsh voice, "that Helen endeavored totrack this man Gianapolis, and was abducted by him or his associates.The limousine was the car of which we have heard so much"...
"If my cabman had not been such a... fool," broke in Denise Ryland,clasping her hands, "we should have had a different... tale to tell."
"I have no wish to reproach anybody," said Dunbar, sternly; "but I feelcalled upon to remark, madam, that you ought to have known better thanto interfere in a case like this; a case in which we are dealing with adesperate and clever gang."
For once in her life Denise Ryland found herself unable to retortsuitably. The mildly reproachful gaze of Leroux she could not meet; andalthough Dr. Cumberly had spoken no word of complaint against her, fromhis pale face she persistently turned away her eyes.
The cabman having departed, the door almost immediately reopened, andSergeant Sowerby came in.
"Ah! there you are, Sowerby!" cried Dunbar, standing up and leaningeagerly across the table. "You have the particulars respecting thelimousine?"
Sergeant Sowerby, removing his hat and carefully placing it upon theonly vacant chair in the room, extracted a bulging notebook from apocket concealed beneath his raincoat, cleared his throat, and reportedas follows:
"There is only one car known to members of that division which answersto the description of the one wanted. This is a high-power, French carwhich seems to have been registered first in Paris, where it was made,then in Cairo, and lastly in London. It is the property of the gentlemanwhose telephone number is 18642 East--Mr. I. Gianapolis; and the reasonof its frequent presence in the neighborhood of the West India DockRoad, is this: it is kept in a garage in Wharf-End Lane, off LimehouseCauseway. I have interviewed two constables at present on that beat, andthey tell me that there is nothing mysterious about the car except thatthe chauffeur is a foreigner who speaks no English. He is often to beseen cleaning the car in the garage, and both the men are in the habitof exchanging good evening with him when passing the end of the lane.They rarely go that far, however, as it leads nowhere."
"But if you have the telephone number of this man, Gianapolis," criedDr. Cumberly, "you must also have his address"...
"We obtained both from the Eastern Exchange," interrupted InspectorDunbar. "The instrument, number 18642 East, is installed in an officein Globe Road. The office, which is situated in a converted privatedwelling, bears a brass plate simply inscribed, 'I. Gianapolis, Londonand Smyrna.'"
"What is the man's reputed business?" jerked Cumberly.
"We have not quite got to the bottom of that, yet," replied Sowerby;"but he is an agent of some kind, and evidently in a large way ofbusiness, as he runs a very fine car, and seems to live principally indifferent hotels. I am told that he is an importer of Turkish cigarettesand"...
"He is an importer and exporter of hashish!" snapped Dunbar irritably."If I could clap my eyes upon him I should know him at once! I tell you,Sowerby, he is the man who was convicted last year of exportinghashish to Egypt in faked packing cases which contained pottery ware,ostensibly, but had false bottoms filled with cakes of hashish"...
"But," began Dr. Cumberly...
"But because he came before a silly bench," snapped Dunbar, his eyesflashing angrily, "he got off with a fine--a heavy one, certainly, buthe could well afford to pay it. It is that kind of judicial folly whichties the hands of Scotland Yard!"
"What makes you so confident that this is the man?" asked the physician.
"He was convicted under the name of G. Ionagis," replied the detective;"which I believe to be either his real name or his real name transposed.Do you follow me? I. Gianapolis is Ionagis Gianapolis, and G. Ionagisis Gianapolis Ionagis. I was not associated with the hashish case; hestored the stuff in a china warehouse within the city precincts, andat that time he did not come within my sphere. But I looked into itprivately, and I could see that the prosecution was merely skimming thesurface; we are only beginning to get down to the depths NOW."
Dr. Cumberly raised his hand to his head in a distracted manner.
"Surely," he said, and he was evidently exercising a great restraintupon himself--"surely we're wasting time. The office in Globe Roadshould be raided without delay. No stone should be left unturned toeffect the immediate arrest of this man Gianapolis or Ionagis. Why, Godalmighty! while we are talking here, my daughter"...
"Morbleu! who talks of arresting Gianapolis?" inquired the voice of aman who silently had entered the room.
All turned their heads; and there in the doorway stood M. Gaston Max.
"Thank God you've come!" said Dunbar with sincerity. He dropped backinto his chair, a strong man exhausted. "This case is getting be
yondme!"
Denise Ryland was staring at the Frenchman as if fascinated. He, forhis part, having glanced around the room, seemed called upon to give hersome explanation of his presence.
"Madame," he said, bowing in his courtly way, "only because of verygreat interests did I dare to conceal my true identity. My name isGaston, that is true, but only so far as it goes. My real name is GastonMax, and you who live in Paris will perhaps have heard it."
"Gaston Max!" cried Denise Ryland, springing upright as thoughgalvanized; "you are M. Gaston Max! But you are not the least bit in theworld like"...
"Myself?" said the Frenchman, smiling. "Madame, it is only a manfortunate enough to possess no enemies who can dare to be like himself."
He bowed to her in an oddly conclusive manner, and turned again toInspector Dunbar.
"I am summoned in haste," he said; "tell me quickly of this newdevelopment."
Sowerby snatched his hat from the vacant chair, and politely placed thechair for M. Max to sit upon. The Frenchman, always courteous, gentlyforced Sergeant Sowerby himself to occupy the chair, silencing hismuttered protests with upraised hand. The matter settled, he lowered hishand, and, resting it fraternally upon the sergeant's shoulder, listenedto Inspector Dunbar's account of what had occurred that night. No oneinterrupted the Inspector until he was come to the end of his narrative.
"Mille tonnerres!" then exclaimed M. Max; and, holding a finger of hisglove between his teeth, he tugged so sharply that a long rent appearedin the suede.
His eyes were on fire; the whole man quivered with electric force.
In silence that group watched the celebrated Frenchman; instinctivelythey looked to him for aid. It is at such times that personalityproclaims itself. Here was the last court of appeal, to which came Dr.Cumberly and Inspector Dunbar alike; whose pronouncement they awaited,not questioning that it would be final.
"To-morrow night," began Max, speaking in a very low voice, "we raidthe headquarters of Ho-Pin. This disappearance of your daughter, Dr.Cumberly, is frightful; it could not have been foreseen or it shouldhave been prevented. But the least mistake now, and"--he looked at Dr.Cumberly as if apologizing for his barbed words--"she may never return!"
"My God!" groaned the physician, and momentarily dropped his face intohis hands.
But almost immediately he recovered himself and with his mouth drawninto a grim straight line, looked again at M. Max, who continued:
"I do not think that this abduction was planned by the group; I think itwas an accident and that they were forced, in self-protection, to detainyour daughter, who unwisely--morbleu! how unwisely!--forced herself intotheir secrets. To arrest Gianapolis (even if that were possible) wouldbe to close their doors to us permanently; and as we do not even knowthe situation of those doors, that would be to ruin everything. WhetherMiss Cumberly is confined in the establishment of Ho-Pin or somewhereelse, I cannot say; whether she is a captive of Gianapolis or ofMr. King, I do not know. But I know that the usual conduct of theestablishment is not being interrupted at present; for only half-an-hourago I telephoned to Mr. Gianapolis!"
"At Globe Road?" snapped Dunbar, with a flash of the tawny eyes.
"At Globe Road--yes (oh! they would not detain her there!). Mr.Gianapolis was present to speak to me. He met me very agreeably in thematter of occupying my old room in the delightful Chinese hotel of Mr.Ho-Pin. Therefore"--he swept his left hand around forensically, as if toinclude the whole of the company--"to-morrow night at eleven o'clock Ishall be meeting Mr. Gianapolis at Piccadilly Circus, and later we shalljoin the limousine and be driven to the establishment of Ho-Pin." Heturned to Inspector Dunbar. "Your arrangements for watching all theapproaches to the suspected area are no doubt complete?"
"Not a stray cat," said Dunbar with emphasis, "can approach LimehouseCauseway or Pennyfields, or any of the environs of the place, to-morrownight after ten o'clock, without the fact being reported to me! Youwill know at the moment that you step from the limousine that a cyclistscout, carefully concealed, is close at your heels with a whole troup tofollow; and if, as you suspect, the den adjoins the river bank, a policecutter will be lying at the nearest available point."
"Eh bien!" said M. Max; then, turning to Denise Ryland and Dr. Cumberly,and shrugging his shoulders: "you see, frightful as your suspense mustbe, to make any foolish arrests to-night, to move in this matter at allto-night--would be a case of more haste and less speed"...
"But," groaned Cumberly, "is Helen to lie in that foul, unspeakable denuntil the small hours of to-morrow morning? Good God! they may"...
"There is one little point," interrupted M. Max with upraised hand,"which makes it impossible that we should move to-night--quite apartfrom the advisability of such a movement. We do not know exactly wherethis place is situated. What can we do?"
He shrugged his shoulders, and, with raised eyebrows, stared at Dr.Cumberly.
"It is fairly evident," replied the other slowly, and with a repetitionof the weary upraising of his hand to his head, "it is fairly evidentthat the garage used by the man Gianapolis must be very near to--mostprobably adjoining--the entrance to this place of which you speak."
"Quite true," agreed the Frenchman. "But these are clever, these peopleof Mr. King. They are Chinese, remember, and the Chinese--ah, I knowit!--are the most mysterious and most cunning people in the world.The entrance to the cave of black and gold will not be as wide as acathedral door. A thousand men might search this garage, which, asDetective Sowerby" (he clapped the latter on the shoulder) "informed methis afternoon, is situated in Wharf-End Lane--all day and all night,and become none the wiser. To-morrow evening"--he lowered his voice--"Imyself, shall be not outside, but inside that secret place; I shallbe the concierge for one night--Eh bien, that concierge will admit thepoliceman!"
A groan issued from Dr. Cumberly's lips; and M. Max, with readysympathy, crossed the room and placed his hands upon the physician'sshoulders, looking steadfastly into his eyes.
"I understand, Dr. Cumberly," he said, and his voice was caressing asa woman's. "Pardieu! I understand. To wait is agony; but you, who area physician, know that to wait sometimes is necessary. Have courage, myfriend, have courage!"
