American library books ยป Fiction ยป The Yellow Claw by Sax Rohmer (i like reading books TXT) ๐Ÿ“•

Read book online ยซThe Yellow Claw by Sax Rohmer (i like reading books TXT) ๐Ÿ“•ยป.   Author   -   Sax Rohmer



1 ... 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 ... 80
Go to page:
desecration, where all else was hushed in deference to the grim visitor. The body of the murdered woman had been laid upon the chesterfield, and a little, dark, bearded man was conducting an elaborate examination; when, seeing the trio enter, he hastily threw the coat of civet fur over the body, and stood up, facing the intruders.

โ€œIt's all right, doctor,โ€ said the inspector; โ€œand we shan't detain you a moment.โ€ He glanced over his shoulder. โ€œMr. Hilton, M. R. C. S.โ€ he said, indicating the dark manโ€”โ€œDr. Cumberly and Miss Cumberly.โ€

The divisional surgeon bowed to Helen and eagerly grasped the hand of the celebrated physician.

โ€œI am fortunate in being able to ask your opinion,โ€ he began....

Dr. Cumberly nodded shortly, and with upraised hand, cut him short.

โ€œI shall willingly give you any assistance in my power,โ€ he said; โ€œbut my daughter has voluntarily committed herself to a rather painful ordeal, and I am anxious to get it over.โ€

He stooped and raised the fur from the ghastly face.

Helen, her hand resting upon her father's shoulder, ventured one rapid glance and then looked away, shuddering slightly. Dr. Cumberly replaced the coat and gazed anxiously at his daughter. But Helen, with admirable courage, having closed her eyes for a moment, reopened them, and smiled at her father's anxiety. She was pale, but perfectly composed.

โ€œWell, Miss Cumberly?โ€ inquired the inspector, eagerly; whilst all in the room watched this slim girl in her charming deshabille, this dainty figure so utterly out of place in that scene of morbid crime.

She raised her gray eyes to the detective.

โ€œI still believe that I have seen the face, somewhere, before. But I shall have to reflect a whileโ€”I meet so many folks, you know, in a casual wayโ€”before I can commit myself to any statement.โ€

In the leonine eyes looking into hers gleamed the light of admiration and approval. The canny Scotsman admired this girl for her beauty, as a matter of course, for her courage, because courage was a quality standing high in his estimation, but, above all, for her admirable discretion.

โ€œVery proper, Miss Cumberly,โ€ he said; โ€œvery proper and wise on your part. I don't wish to hurry you in any way, butโ€โ€”he hesitated, glancing at the man in plain clothes, who had now resumed a careful perusal of a newspaperโ€”โ€œbut her name doesn't happen to be Vernonโ€”โ€

โ€œVernon!โ€ cried the girl, her eyes lighting up at sound of the name. โ€œMrs. Vernon! it is! it is! She was pointed out to me at the last Arts Ballโ€”where she appeared in a most monstrous Chinese costumeโ€”โ€

โ€œChinese?โ€ inquired Dunbar, producing the bulky notebook.

โ€œYes. Oh! poor, poor soul!โ€

โ€œYou know nothing further about her, Miss Cumberly?โ€

โ€œNothing, Inspector. She was merely pointed out to me as one of the strangest figures in the hall. Her husband, I understand, is an art expertโ€”โ€

โ€œHe WAS!โ€ said Dunbar, closing the book sharply. โ€œHe died this afternoon; and a paragraph announcing his death appears in the newspaper which we found in the victim's fur coat!โ€

โ€œBut howโ€”โ€

โ€œIt was the only paragraph on the half-page folded outwards which was in any sense PERSONAL. I am greatly indebted to you, Miss Cumberly; every hour wasted on a case like this means a fresh plait in the rope around the neck of the wrong man!โ€

Helen Cumberly grew slowly quite pallid.

โ€œGood night,โ€ she said; and bowing to the detective and to the surgeon, she prepared to depart.

Mr. Hilton touched Dr. Cumberly's arm, as he, too, was about to retire.

โ€œMay I hope,โ€ he whispered, โ€œthat you will return and give me the benefit of your opinion in making out my report?โ€

Dr. Cumberly glanced at his daughter; and seeing her to be perfectly composed:โ€”โ€œFor the moment, I have formed no opinion, Mr. Hilton,โ€ he said, quietly, โ€œnot having had an opportunity to conduct a proper examination.โ€

Hilton bent and whispered, confidentially, in the other's ear:โ€”

โ€œShe was drugged!โ€

The innuendo underlying the words struck Dr. Cumberly forcibly, and he started back with his brows drawn together in a frown.

โ€œDo you mean that she was addicted to the use of drugs?โ€ he asked, sharply; โ€œor that the drugging took place to-night.โ€

โ€œThe drugging DID take place to-night!โ€ whispered the other. โ€œAn injection was made in the left shoulder with a hypodermic syringe; the mark is quite fresh.โ€

Dr. Cumberly glared at his fellow practitioner, angrily.

โ€œAre there no other marks of injection?โ€ he asked.

โ€œOn the left forearm, yes. Obviously self-administered. Oh, I don't deny the habit! But my point is this: the injection in the shoulder was NOT self-administered.โ€

โ€œCome, Helen,โ€ said Cumberly, taking his daughter's arm; for she had drawn near, during the colloquyโ€”โ€œyou must get to bed.โ€

His face was very stern when he turned again to Mr. Hilton.

โ€œI shall return in a few minutes,โ€ he said, and escorted his daughter from the room.





VI AT SCOTLAND YARD

Matters of vital importance to some people whom already we have met, and to others whom thus far we have not met, were transacted in a lofty and rather bleak looking room at Scotland Yard between the hours of nine and ten A. M.; that is, later in the morning of the fateful day whose advent we have heard acclaimed from the Tower of Westminster.

The room, which was lighted by a large French window opening upon a balcony, commanded an excellent view of the Thames Embankment. The floor was polished to a degree of brightness, almost painful. The distempered walls, save for a severe and solitary etching of a former Commissioner, were nude in all their unloveliness. A heavy deal table (upon which rested a blotting-pad, a pewter ink-pot, several newspapers and two pens) together with three deal chairs, built rather as monuments of durability than as examples of art, constituted the only furniture, if we except an electric lamp with a green glass shade, above the table.

This was the room of Detective-Inspector Dunbar; and Detective-Inspector Dunbar, at the hour of our entrance, will be found seated in the chair, placed behind the table, his elbows resting upon the blotting-pad.

At ten minutes past nine, exactly, the door opened, and a thick-set, florid man, buttoned up in a fawn colored raincoat and wearing a bowler hat of obsolete build, entered. He possessed a black mustache, a breezy, bustling manner, and humorous blue eyes; furthermore, when he took off his

1 ... 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 ... 80
Go to page:

Free e-book: ยซThe Yellow Claw by Sax Rohmer (i like reading books TXT) ๐Ÿ“•ยป   -   read online now on website american library books (americanlibrarybooks.com)

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment