CHAPTER XXIII. CHIEF INSPECTOR KERRY RESIGNS
"Come in," said the Assistant Commissioner. The door opened and ChiefInspector Kerry entered. His face was as fresh-looking, his attire asspruce and his eyes were as bright, as though he had slept well, enjoyedhis bath and partaken of an excellent breakfast. Whereas he had notbeen to bed during the preceding twenty-four hours, had breakfastedupon biscuits and coffee, and had spent the night and early morning inceaseless toil. Nevertheless he had found time to visit a hairdressingsaloon, for he prided himself upon the nicety of his personalappearance.
He laid his hat, cane and overall upon a chair, and from a pocket of hisreefer jacket took out a big notebook.
"Good morning, sir," he said.
"Good morning, Chief Inspector," replied the Assistant Commissioner."Pray be seated. No doubt"--he suppressed a weary sigh--"you have a longreport to make. I observe that some of the papers have the news of SirLucien Pyne's death."
Chief Inspector Kerry smiled savagely.
"Twenty pressmen are sitting downstairs," he said "waiting forparticulars. One of them got into my room." He opened his notebook. "Hedidn't stay long."
The Assistant Commissioner gazed wearily at his blotting-pad, strikingimaginary chords upon the table-edge with his large widely extendedfingers. He cleared his throat.
"Er--Chief Inspector," he said, "I fully recognize the difficultieswhich--you follow me? But the Press is the Press. Neither you nor Icould hope to battle against such an institution even if we desiredto do so. Where active resistance is useless, a little tact--you quiteunderstand?"
"Quite, sir. Rely upon me," replied Kerry. "But I didn't mean to openmy mouth until I had reported to you. Now, sir, here is a precis ofevidence, nearly complete, written out clearly by Sergeant Coombes. Youwould probably prefer to read it?"
"Yes, yes, I will read it. But has Sergeant Coombes been on duty allnight?"
"He has, sir, and so have I. Sergeant Coombes went home an hour ago."
"Ah," murmured the Assistant Commissioner
He took the notebook from Kerry, and resting his head upon his handbegan to read. Kerry sat very upright in his chair, chewing slowly andwatching the profile of the reader with his unwavering steel-blueeyes. The reading was twice punctuated by telephone messages, but theAssistant Commissioner apparently possessed the Napoleonic faculty ofdoing two things at once, for his gaze travelled uninterruptedly alongthe lines of the report throughout the time that he issued telephonicinstructions.
When he had arrived at the final page of Coombes' neat, schoolboywriting, he did not look up for a minute or more, continuing to rest hishead in the palm of his hand. Then:
"So far you have not succeeded in establishing the identity of themissing man, Kazmah?" he said.
"Not so far, sir," replied Kerry, enunciating the words withcharacteristic swift precision, each syllable distinct as the rap ofa typewriter. "Inspector Whiteleaf, of Vine Street, has questionedall constables in the Piccadilly area, and we have seen members of thestaffs of many shops and offices in the neighborhood, but no one isfamiliar with the appearance of the missing man."
"Ah--now, the Egyptian servant?"
Inspector Kerry moved his shoulders restlessly.
"Rashid is his name. Many of the people in the neighborhood knew himby sight, and at five o'clock this morning one of my assistants had thegood luck to find out, from an Arab coffee-house keeper named Abdulla,where Rashid lived. He paid a visit to the place--it's off the WestIndia Dock Road--half an hour later. But Rashid had gone. I regret toreport that all traces of him have been lost."
"Ah--considering this circumstance side by side with the facts that noscrap of evidence has come to light in the Kazmah premises and that thelate Sir Lucien's private books and papers cannot be found, what do youdeduce, Chief Inspector?"
"My report indicates what I deduce, sir! An accomplice of Kazmah's musthave been in Sir Lucien's household! Kazmah and Mrs. Irvin can only haveleft the premises by going up to the roof and across the leads to SirLucien's flat in Albemarle Street. I shall charge the man Juan Mareno."
"What has he to say?" murmured the Assistant Commissioner, absentlyturning over the pages of the notebook. "Ah, yes. 'Claims to be acitizen of the United States but has produced no papers. Engaged by SirLucien Pyne in San Francisco. Professes to have no evidence to offer.Admitted Mrs. Monte Irvin to Sir Lucien's flat on night of murder. SirLucien and Mrs. Irvin went out together shortly afterwards, and SirLucien ordered him (Mareno) to go for the car to garage in South AudleyStreet and drive to club, where Sir Lucien proposed to dine. Marenoclaims to have followed instructions. After waiting near club for anhour, learned from hall porter that Sir Lucien had not been there thatevening. Drove car back to garage and returned to Albemarle Streetshortly after eight o'clock.' H'm. Is this confirmed in any way?"
Kerry's teeth snapped together viciously.
"Up to a point it is, sir. The club porter remembers Mareno inquiringabout Sir Lucien, and the people at the garage testify that he took outthe car and returned it as stated."
"No one has come forward who actually saw him waiting outside the club?"
"No one. But unfortunately it was a dark, misty night, and cars waitingfor club members stand in a narrow side turning. Mareno is a surlybrute, and he might have waited an hour without speaking to a soul.Unless another chauffeur happened to notice and recognize the car nobodywould be any wiser."
The Assistant Commissioner sighed, glancing up for the first time.
"You don't think he waited outside the club at all?" he said.
"I don't, sir!" rapped Kerry.
The Assistant Commissioner rested his head upon his hand again.
"It doesn't seem to be germane to your case, Chief Inspector, in anyevent. There is no question of an alibi. Sir Lucien's wrist-watch wasbroken at seven-fifteen--evidently at the time of his death; and thisman Mareno does not claim to have left the flat until after that hour."
"I know it, sir," said Kerry. "He took out the car at half-past seven.What I want to know is where he went to!"
The Assistant Commissioner glanced rapidly into the speaker's fierceeyes.
"From what you have gathered respecting the appearance of Kazmah, doesit seem possible that Mareno may be Kazmah?"
"It does not, sir. Kazmah has been described to me, at first hand andat second hand. All descriptions tally in one respect: Kazmah hasremarkably large eyes. In Miss Halley's evidence you will note that sherefers to them as 'larger than any human eyes I have ever seen.' Now,Mareno has eyes like a pig!"
"Then I take it you are charging him as accessory?"
"Exactly, sir. Somebody got Kazmah and Mrs. Irvin away, and it can onlyhave been Mareno. Sir Lucien had no other resident servant; he was aman who lived almost entirely at restaurants and clubs. Again, somebodycleaned up his papers, and it was somebody who knew where to look forthem."
"Quite so--quite so," murmured the Assistant Commissioner. "Of course,we shall learn today something of his affairs from his banker. He musthave banked somewhere. But surely, Chief Inspector, there is a safe orprivate bureau in his flat?"
"There is, sir," said Kerry grimly; "a safe. I had it opened at sixo'clock this morning. It had been hastily cleaned out; not a doubtof it. I expect Sir Lucien carried the keys on his person. You willremember, sir, that his pockets had been emptied?"
"H'm," mused the Assistant Commissioner. "This Cubanis CigaretteCompany, Chief Inspector?"
"Dummy goods!" rapped Kerry. "A blind. Just a back entrance to Kazmah'soffice. Premises were leased on behalf of an agent. This agent--areputable man of business--paid the rent quarterly. I've seen him."
"And who was his client?" asked the Assistant Commissioner, displaying afaint trace of interest.
"A certain Mr. Isaacs!"
"Who can be traced?"
"Who can't be traced!"
"His checks?"
Chief Inspector Kerry smiled, so that his large white teeth gleamedsavagely.
> "Mr. Isaacs represented himself as a dealer in Covent Garden who wasleasing the office for a lady friend, and who desired, for domesticreasons, to cover his tracks. As ready money in large amounts changeshands in the market, Mr. Isaacs paid ready money to the agent. Beyonddoubt the real source of the ready money was Kazmah's."
"But his address?"
"A hotel in Covent Garden."
"Where he lives?"
"Where he is known to the booking-clerk, a girl who allowed him tohave letters addressed there. A man of smoke, sir, acting on behalf ofsomeone in the background."
"Ah! and these Bond Street premises have been occupied by Kazmah for thepast eight years?"
"So I am told. I have yet to see representatives of the landlord. I mayadd that Sir Lucien Pyne had lived in Albemarle Street for about thesame time."
Wearily raising his head:
"The point is certainly significant," said the Assistant Commissioner."Now we come to the drug traffic, Chief Inspector. You have found notrace of drugs on the premises?"
"Not a grain, sir!"
"In the office of the cigarette firm?"
"No."
"By the way, was there no staff attached to the latter concern?"
Kerry chewed viciously.
"No business of any kind seems to have been done there," he replied."An office-boy employed by the solicitor on the same floor as Kazmahhas seen a man and also a woman, go up to the third floor on severaloccasions, and he seems to think they went to the Cubanis office. Buthe's not sure, and he can give no useful description of the parties,anyway. Nobody in the building has ever seen the door open before thismorning."
The Assistant Commissioner sighed yet more wearily.
"Apart from the suspicions of Miss Margaret Halley, you have no soundbasis for supposing that Kazmah dealt in prohibited drugs?" he inquired.
"The evidence of Miss Halley, the letter left for her by Mrs. Irvin, andthe fact that Mrs. Irvin said, in the presence of Mr. Quentin Gray,that she had 'a particular reason' for seeing Kazmah, point to itunmistakably, sir. Then, I have seen Mrs. Irvin's maid. (Mr. Monte Irvinis still too unwell to be interrogated.) The girl was very frightened,but she admitted outright that she had been in the habit of goingregularly to Kazmah for certain perfumes. She wouldn't admit that sheknew the flasks contained cocaine or veronal, but she did admit that hermistress had been addicted to the drug habit for several years. It beganwhen she was on the stage."
"Ah, yes," murmured the Assistant Commissioner; "she was Rita Dresden,was she not--'The Maid of the Masque' A very pretty and talentedactress. A pity--a great pity. So the girl, characteristically, istrying to save herself?"
"She is," said Kerry grimly. "But it cuts no ice. There is anotherpoint. After this report was made out, a message reached me from MissHalley, as a result of which I visited Mr. Quentin Gray early thismorning."
"Dear, dear," sighed the Assistant Commissioner, "your intense zeal andactivity are admirable, Chief Inspector, but appalling. And what did youlearn?"
From an inside pocket Chief Inspector Kerry took out a plain brown paperpacket containing several cigarettes and laid the packet on the table.
"I got these, sir," he said grimly. "They were left at Mr. Gray's someweeks ago by the late Sir Lucien. They are doped."
The Assistant Commissioner, his head resting upon his hand, gazedabstractedly at the packet. "If only you could trace the source ofsupply," he murmured.
"That brings me to my last point, sir. From Mrs. Irvin's maid I learnedthat her mistress was acquainted with a certain Mrs. Sin."
"Mrs. Sin? Incredible name."
"She's a woman reputed to be married to a Chinaman. Inspector Whiteleaf,of Vine Street, knows her by sight as one of the night-club birds--asort of mysterious fungus, sir, flowering in the dark and fattening ongilded fools. Unless I'm greatly mistaken, Mrs. Sin is the link betweenthe doped cigarettes and the missing Kazmah."
"Does anyone know where she lives?"
"Lots of 'em know!" snapped Kerry. "But it's making them speak."
"To whom do you more particularly refer, Chief Inspector?"
"To the moneyed asses and the brainless women belonging to a certainWest End set, sir," said Kerry savagely. "They go in for everymonstrosity from Buenos Ayres, Port Said and Pekin. They get up dancesthat would make a wooden horse blush. They eat hashish and they smokeopium. They inject morphine, and they would have their hair dyed blue ifthey heard it was 'being done.'"
"Ah," sighed the Assistant Commissioner, "a very delicate and complexcase, Chief Inspector. The agony of mind which Mr. Irvin must besuffering is too horrible for one to contemplate. An admirable man,too; honorable and generous. I can conceive no theory to account forthe disappearance of Mrs. Irvin other than that she was a party to themurder."
"No, sir," said Kerry guardedly. "But we have the dope clue to work on.That the Chinese receive stuff in the East End and that it's sold inthe West End every constable in the force is well aware. Leman Street isgetting busy, and every shady case in the Piccadilly area will be beatenup within the next twenty-four hours, too. It's purely departmental,sir, from now onwards, and merely a question of time. Therefore I don'tdoubt the issue."
Kerry paused, cleared his throat, and produced a foolscap envelope whichhe laid upon the table before the Assistant Commissioner.
"With very deep regret, sir," he said, "after a long and agreeableassociation with the Criminal Investigation Department, I have to tenderyou this."
The Assistant Commissioner took up the envelope and stared at itvaguely.
"Ah, yes, Chief Inspector," he murmured. "Perhaps I fail entirely tofollow you; I am somewhat over-worked, as you know. What does thisenvelope contain?"
"My resignation, sir," replied Kerry.