Dope by Sax Rohmer (desktop ebook reader txt) ๐
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- Author: Sax Rohmer
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โVine Street,โ shouted Kerry. โBrisk.โ
He leaned back in the cab, chewing industriously. Coombes, having somewhat recovered his breath, essayed speech.
โIs it something big?โ he asked.
โSure,โ snapped Kerry. โDo they send me to stop dog-fights?โ
Knowing the man and recognizing the mood, Coombes became silent, and this silence he did not break all the way to Vine Street. At the station:
โWait,โ said Chief Inspector Kerry, and went swinging in, carrying his overall and having the malacca cane tucked under his arm.
A few minutes later he came out again and reentered the cab.
โPiccadilly corner of Old Bond Street,โ he directed the man.
โIs it burglary?โ asked Detective-Sergeant Coombes with interest.
โNo,โ said Kerry. โIt's murder; and there seems to be stacks of evidence. Sharpen your pencil.โ
โOh!โ murmured Coombes.
They were almost immediately at their destination, and Chief Inspector Kerry, dismissing the cabman, set off along Bond Street with his lithe, swinging gait, looking all about him intently. Rain had ceased, but the air was damp and chilly, and few pedestrians were to be seen.
A car was standing before Kazmah's premises, the chauffeur walking up and down on the pavement and flapping his hands across his chest in order to restore circulation. The Chief Inspector stopped, โHi, my man!โ he said.
The chauffeur stood still.
โWhose car?โ
โMr. Monte Irvin's.โ
Kerry turned on his heel and stepped to the office door. It was ajar, and Kerry, taking an electric torch from his overall pocket, flashed the light upon the name-plate. He stood for a moment, chewing and looking up the darkened stairs. Then, torch in hand he ascended.
Kazmah's door was closed, and the Chief Inspector rapped loudly. It was opened at once by Sergeant Burton, and Kerry entered, followed by Coombes.
The room at first sight seemed to be extremely crowded. Monte Irvin, very pale and haggard, sat upon the divan beside Quentin Gray. Seton was standing near the cabinet, smoking. These three had evidently been conversing at the time of the detective's arrival with an alert-looking, clean-shaven man whose bag, umbrella, and silk hat stood upon one of the little inlaid tables. Just inside the second door were Brisley and Gunn, both palpably ill at ease, and glancing at Inspector Whiteleaf, who had been interrogating them.
Kerry chewed silently for a moment, bestowing a fierce stare upon each face in turn, then:
โWho's in charge?โ he snapped.
โI am,โ replied Whiteleaf.
โWhy is the lower door open?โ
โI thoughtโโ
โDon't think. Shut the door. Post your Sergeant inside. No one is to go out. Grab anybody who comes in. Where's the body?โ
โThis way,โ said Inspector Whiteleaf hurriedly; then, over his shoulder: โGo down to the door, Burton.โ
He led Kerry towards the inner room, Coombes at his heels. Brisley and Gunn stood aside to give them passage; Gray and Monte Irvin prepared to follow. At the doorway Kerry turned.
โYou will all be good enough to stay where you are,โ he said. He directed the aggressive stare in Seton's direction. โAnd if the gentleman smoking a cheroot is not satisfied that he has quite destroyed any clue perceptible by the sense of smell I should be glad to send out for some fireworks.โ
He tossed his oilskin and his cane on the divan and went into the room of seance, savagely biting at a piece of apparently indestructible chewing-gum.
The torn green curtain had been laid aside and the electric lights turned on in the inside rooms. Pallid, Sir Lucien Pyne lay by the ebony chair glaring horribly upward.
Always with the keen eyes glancing this way and that, Inspector Kerry crossed the little audience room and entered the enclosure contained between the two screens. By the side of the dead man he stood, looking down silently. Then he dropped upon one knee and peered closely into the white face. He looked up.
โHe has not been moved?โ
โNo.โ
Kerry bent yet lower, staring closely at a discolored abrasion on Sir Lucien's forehead. His glance wandered from thence to the carved ebony chair. Still kneeling, he drew from his waistcoat pocket a powerful lens contained in a washleather bag. He began to examine the back and sides of the chair. Once he laid his finger lightly on a protruding point of the carving, and then scrutinised his finger through the glass. He examined the dead man's hands, his nails, his garments. Then he crawled about, peering closely at the carpet.
He stood up suddenly. โThe doctor,โ he snapped.
Inspector Whiteleaf retired, but returned immediately with the clean-shaven man to whom Monte Irvin had been talking when Kerry arrived.
โGood evening, doctor,โ said Kerry. โDo I know your name? Start your notes, Coombes.โ
โMy name is Dr. Wilbur Weston, and I live in Albemarle Street.โ
โWho called you?โ
โInspector Whiteleaf telephoned to me about half an hour ago.โ
โYou examined the dead man?โ
โI did.โ
โYou avoided moving him?โ
โIt was unnecessary to move him. He was dead, and the wound was in the left shoulder. I pulled his coat open and unbuttoned his shirt. That was all.โ
โHow long dead?โ
โI should say he had been dead not more than an hour when I saw him.โ
โWhat had caused death?โ
โThe stab of some long, narrow-bladed weapon, such as a stiletto.โ
โWhy a stiletto?โ Kerry's fierce eyes challenged him. โDid you ever see a wound made by a stiletto?โ
โSeveralโin Italy, and one at Saffron Hill. They are characterised by very little external bleeding.โ
โRight, doctor. It had reached his heart?โ
โYes. The blow was delivered from behind.โ
โHow do you know?โ
โThe direction of the wound is forward. I have seen an almost identical wound in the case of an Italian woman stabbed
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