CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE EMPTY HOUSE
Ayscough had manifested a certain restiveness and dislike to theproceedings ever since his companion had induced him to enter the backdoor of Molteno Lodge--these doings appeared to him informal andirregular. But at Melky's sudden exclamation his professional instinctswere aroused, and he started forward, staring through the opening inthe bushes made by Melky's fingers.
"Good Lord!" he said. "You're right. One of the Chinamen!"
The full moon was high in a cloudless sky by that time, and its raysfell full on a yellow face--and on a dark gash that showed itself inthe yellow neck below. Whoever this man was, he had been killed by asavage knifethrust that had gone straight and unerringly through thejugular vein. Ayscough pointed to a dark wide stain which showed on theearth at the foot of the bushes.
"Stabbed!" he muttered. "Stabbed to death! And dragged in here--look atthat--and that!"
He turned, pointing to more stains on the gravelled path behindthem--stains which extended, at intervals, almost to the entrance doorin the outer wall. And then he drew a box of matches from his pocket,and striking one, went closer and held the light down to the dead man'sface. Melky, edging closer to his elbow, looked, too.
"One of those Chinamen, without a doubt!" said Ayscough, as the matchflickered and died out. "Or, at any rate, a Chinaman. And--he's beendead some days! Well!--this is a go!"
"What's to be done?" asked Melky. "It's murder!"
Ayscough looked around him. He was wondering how it was that a dead mancould lie in that garden, close to a busy thoroughfare, along which aregular stream of traffic of all descriptions was constantly passing,for several days, undetected. But a quick inspection of thesurroundings explained matters. The house itself filled up one end ofthe garden; the other three sides were obscured from the adjacenthouses and from the street by high walls, high trees, thick bushes. Thefront gate was locked or latched--no one had entered--no one, save theowner of the knife that had dealt that blow, had known a murdered manlay there behind the laurels. Only the rat, started by Melky'sfootsteps, had known.
"Stay here!" said Ayscough. "Well--inside the gate, then--don't comeout--I don't want to attract attention. There'll be a constablesomewhere about."
He walked down to the iron-work gate, Melky following close at hisheels, found and unfastened the patent latch, and slipped out into theroad. In two minutes he was back again with a policeman. He motionedthe man inside and once more fastened the door.
"As you know this beat," he said quietly, as if continuing aconversation already begun, "you'll know the two Chinese gentlemen whohave this house?"
"Seen 'em--yes," replied the policeman. "Two quiet little fellows--seen'em often--generally of an evening."
"Have you seen anything of them lately?" asked Ayscough.
"Well, now I come to think of it, no, I haven't," answered thepoliceman. "Not for some days."
"Have you noticed that the house was shut up--that there were no lightsin the front windows?" enquired the detective.
"Why, as a matter of fact, Mr. Ayscough," said the policeman, "younever do see any lights here--the windows are shuttered. I know that,because I used to give a look round when the house was empty."
"Do you know what servants they kept--these two?" asked Ayscough.
"They kept none!" answered the policeman. "Seems to me--from what bit Isaw, you know--they used the house for little more than sleeping in.I've seen 'em go out of a morning, with books and papers under theirarms, and come home at night--similar. But there's no servants there.Anything wrong, Mr. Ayscough?"
Ayscough moved toward the bushes.
"There's this much wrong," he answered. "There's one of 'em lying deadbehind those laurels with a knife-thrust through his throat! And Ishould say, from the look of things, that he's been lying there severaldays. Look here!"
The policeman looked--and beyond a sharp exclamation, remained stolid.He glanced at his companions, glanced round the garden--and suddenlypointed to a dark patch on the ground.
"There's blood there!" he said. "Blood!"
"Blood!" exclaimed Ayscough. "There's blood all the way down this path!The man's been stabbed as he came in at that door, and his body wasthen dragged up the path and thrust in here. Now then!--off you go tothe station, and tell 'em what we've found. Get help--he'll have to betaken to the mortuary. And you'll want men to keep a watch on thishouse--tell the inspector all about it and say I'm here. Andhere--leave me that lamp of yours."
The policeman took off his bull's eye lantern and handed it over.Ayscough let him out of the door, and going back to Melky, beckoned himtowards the house.
"Let's see if there's any way of getting in here," he said. "Myconscience, Mr. Rubinstein!--you must have had some instinct aboutcoming here tonight! We've hit on something--but Lord bless me if Iknow what it is!"
"Mr. Ayscough!" said Melky. "I hadn't a notion of aught like that--it'sgive me a turn! But don't I know what it means, Mr. Ayscough--not half!It's all of a piece with the rest of it! Murder, Mr. Ayscough--bloodymurder! All on account of that orange-yellow diamond we've heard of--atlast. Ah!--if I'd known there was that at the bottom of this affair,I'd ha' been a bit sharper in coming to conclusions, I would so!Diamond worth eighty thousand pounds--."
Ayscough, who had been busy at the front door of the house, suddenlyinterrupted his companion's reflections.
"The door's open!" he exclaimed. "Open! Not even on the latch. Come on!"
Melky shrank back at the prospect of the unlighted hall. There was ahorror in the garden, in that bright moonlight--what might there not bein that black, silent house?
"Well, turn that there bull's eye on!" he said. "I don't half fancythis sort of exploration. We'd ought to have had revolvers, you know."
Ayscough turned on the light and advanced into the hall. There wasnothing there beyond what one would expect to see in the hall of awell-furnished house, nor was there anything but good furniture, softcarpets, and old pictures to look at in the first room into which heand Melky glanced. But in the room behind there were evidences ofrecent occupation--a supper-table was laid: there was food on it, acold fowl, a tongue--one plate had portions of both these viands laidon it, with a knife and fork crossed above them; on another plate closeby, a slice of bread lay, broken and crumbled--all the evidences showedthat supper had been laid for two, that only one had sat down to it:that he had been interrupted at the very beginning of his meal--a glasshalf-full of a light French wine stood near the pushed-aside plate.
"Looks as if one of 'em had been having a meal, had had to leave it,and had never come back to it," remarked Ayscough. "Him outside, nodoubt. Let's see the other rooms."
There was nothing to see beyond what they would have expected tosee--except that in one of the bedrooms, in a drawer pulled out from adressing-table and left open, lay a quantity of silver and copper, withhere and there a gold coin shining amongst it. Ayscough made asignificant motion of his head at the sight.
"Another proof of--hurry!" he said. "Somebody's cleared out of thisplace about as quick as he could! Money left lying about--unfinishedmeal--door open--all sure indications. Well, we've seen enough for thepresent. Our people'll make a thorough search later. Come downstairsagain."
Neither Ayscough nor Melky were greatly inclined for conversation orspeculation, and they waited in silence near the gate, both thinking ofthe still figure lying behind the laurel bushes until the police came.Then followed whispered consultations between Ayscough and theinspector, and arrangements for the removal of the dead man to themortuary and the guardianship and thorough search of the house--andthat done, Ayscough beckoned Melky out into the road.
"Glad to be out of that--for this time, anyway!" he said, with an airof relief. "There's too much atmosphere of murder and mystery--whatthey call Oriental mystery--for me in there, Mr. Rubinstein! Now then,there's something we can do, at once. Did I understand you to say thesetwo were medical students at University College?"
"So Mr. Penniket said," replied Melky. "S'elp me! I never heard of 'emtill this afternoon!"
"You're going to hear a fine lot about 'em before long, anyway!"remarked Ayscough.
"Well--we'll just drive on to Gower Street--somebody'll know somethingabout 'em there, I reckon."
He walked forward until he came to the cab-rank at the foot of St.John's Wood Road, where he bundled Melky into a taxi-cab, and bade thedriver get away to University College Hospital at his best pace. Therewas little delay in carrying out that order, but it was not such aneasy task on arrival at their destination to find any one who couldgive Ayscough the information he wanted. At last, after they had waitedsome time in a reception room a young member of the house-staff came inand looked an enquiry.
"What is it you want to know about these two Chinese students?" heasked a little impatiently, with a glance at Ayscough's card. "Isanything wrong?"
"I want to know a good deal!" answered Ayscough. "If not just now,later. You know the two men I mean--Chang Li and Chen Li--brothers, Itake it?"
"I know them--they've been students here since about last Christmas,"answered the young surgeon. "As a matter of fact they're notbrothers--though they're very much alike, and both have the samesurname--if Li is a surname. They're friends--not brothers, so theytold us."
"When did you see them last?" asked Ayscough.
"Not for some days, now you mention it," replied the surgeon. "Severaldays. I was remarking on that today--I missed them from a class."
"You say they're very much alike," remarked the detective. "I supposeyou can tell one from the other?"
"Of course! But--what is this? I see you're a detective sergeant. Arethey in any bother--trouble?"
"The fact of the case," answered Ayscough, "is just this--one of them'slying dead at our mortuary, and I shall be much obliged if you'll stepinto my cab outside and come and identify him. Listen--it's a case ofmurder!"
Twenty minutes later, Ayscough, leading the young house-surgeon into agrim and silent room, turned aside the sheet from a yellow face.
"Which one of 'em is it?" he asked.
The house-surgeon started as he saw the wound in the dead man's throat.
"This is Chen!" he answered.