CHAPTER IX. THE CLIMBER
Our search of the house of Abel Slattin ceased only with the coming ofthe dawn, and yielded nothing but disappointment. Failure followed uponfailure; for, in the gray light of the morning, our own quest concluded,Inspector Weymouth returned to report that the girl, Karamaneh, hadthrown him off the scent.
Again he stood before me, the big, burly friend of old and dreadfuldays, a little grayer above the temples, which I set down for a recordof former horrors, but deliberate, stoical, thorough, as ever. His blueeyes melted in the old generous way as he saw me, and he gripped my handin greeting.
"Once again," he said, "your dark-eyed friend has been too clever forme, Doctor. But the track as far as I could follow, leads to the oldspot. In fact,"--he turned to Smith, who, grim-faced and haggard,looked thoroughly ill in that gray light--"I believe Fu-Manchu's lair issomewhere near the former opium-den of Shen-Yan--'Singapore Charlie.'"
Smith nodded.
"We will turn our attention in that direction," he replied, "at a veryearly date."
Inspector Weymouth looked down at the body of Abel Slattin.
"How was it done?" he asked softly.
"Clumsily for Fu-Manchu," I replied. "A snake was introduced into thehouse by some means--"
"By Karamaneh!" rapped Smith.
"Very possibly by Karamaneh," I continued firmly. "The thing has escapedus."
"My own idea," said Smith, "is that it was concealed about his clothing.When he fell by the open door it glided out of the house. We must havethe garden searched thoroughly by daylight."
"He"--Weymouth glanced at that which lay upon the floor--"must be moved;but otherwise we can leave the place untouched, clear out the servants,and lock the house up."
"I have already given orders to that effect," answered Smith. He spokewearily and with a note of conscious defeat in his voice. "Nothing hasbeen disturbed;"--he swept his arm around comprehensively--"papers andso forth you can examine at leisure."
Presently we quitted that house upon which the fateful Chinaman hadset his seal, as the suburb was awakening to a new day. The clank ofmilk-cans was my final impression of the avenue to which a dreadfulminister of death had come at the bidding of the death lord. Weleft Inspector Weymouth in charge and returned to my rooms, scarcelyexchanging a word upon the way.
Nayland Smith, ignoring my entreaties, composed himself for slumber inthe white cane chair in my study. About noon he retired to the bathroom,and returning, made a pretense of breakfast; then resumed his seat inthe cane armchair. Carter reported in the afternoon, but his report wasmerely formal. Returning from my round of professional visits at halfpast five, I found Nayland Smith in the same position; and so the daywaned into evening, and dusk fell uneventfully.
In the corner of the big room by the empty fireplace, Nayland Smith lay,with his long, lean frame extended in the white cane chair. A tumbler,from which two straws protruded, stood by his right elbow, and a perfectcontinent of tobacco smoke lay between us, wafted toward the door by thedraught from an open window. He had littered the hearth with matches andtobacco ash, being the most untidy smoker I have ever met; and savefor his frequent rapping-out of his pipe bowl and perpetual striking ofmatches, he had shown no sign of activity for the past hour. Collarlessand wearing an old tweed jacket, he had spent the evening, as he hadspent the day, in the cane chair, only quitting it for some ten minutes,or less, to toy with dinner.
My several attempts at conversation had elicited nothing but growls;therefore, as dusk descended, having dismissed my few patients, Ibusied myself collating my notes upon the renewed activity of the YellowDoctor, and was thus engaged when the 'phone bell disturbed me. It wasSmith who was wanted, however; and he went out eagerly, leaving me to mytask.
At the end of a lengthy conversation, he returned from the 'phone andbegan, restlessly, to pace the room. I made a pretense of continuing mylabors, but covertly I was watching him. He was twitching at the lobe ofhis left ear, and his face was a study in perplexity. Abruptly he burstout:
"I shall throw the thing up, Petrie! Either I am growing too old to copewith such an adversary as Fu-Manchu, or else my intellect has becomedull. I cannot seem to think clearly or consistently. For the Doctor,this crime, this removal of Slattin, is clumsy--unfinished. There aretwo explanations. Either he, too, is losing his old cunning or he hasbeen interrupted!"
"Interrupted!"
"Take the facts, Petrie,"--Smith clapped his hands upon my table andbent down, peering into my eyes--"is it characteristic of Fu-Manchu tokill a man by the direct agency of a snake and to implicate one of hisown damnable servants in this way?"
"But we have found no snake!"
"Karamaneh introduced one in some way. Do you doubt it?"
"Certainly Karamaneh visited him on the evening of his death, but youmust be perfectly well aware that even if she had been arrested, no jurycould convict her."
Smith resumed his restless pacings up and down.
"You are very useful to me, Petrie," he replied; "as a counsel forthe defense you constantly rectify my errors of prejudice. Yet I amconvinced that our presence at Slattin's house last night preventedFu-Manchu from finishing off this little matter as he had designed todo."
"What has given you this idea?"
"Weymouth is responsible. He has rung me up from the Yard. The constableon duty at the house where the murder was committed, reports that someone, less than an hour ago, attempted to break in."
"Break in!"
"Ah! you are interested? I thought the circumstance illuminating, also!"
"Did the officer see this person?"
"No; he only heard him. It was some one who endeavored to enter by thebathroom window, which, I am told, may be reached fairly easily by anagile climber."
"The attempt did not succeed?"
"No; the constable interrupted, but failed to make a capture or even tosecure a glimpse of the man."
We were both silent for some moments; then:
"What do you propose to do?" I asked.
"We must not let Fu-Manchu's servants know," replied Smith, "butto-night I shall conceal myself in Slattin's house and remain therefor a week or a day--it matters not how long--until that attempt isrepeated. Quite obviously, Petrie, we have overlooked something whichimplicates the murderer with the murder! In short, either by accident,by reason of our superior vigilance, or by the clumsiness of his plans,Fu-Manchu for once in an otherwise blameless career, has left a clue!"