Dope by Sax Rohmer (desktop ebook reader txt) 📕

private books and papers cannot be found, what do you deduce, Chief Inspector?”

“My report indicates what I deduce, sir! An accomplice of Kazmah's must have been in Sir Lucien's household! Kazmah and Mrs. Irvin can only have left the premises by going up to the roof and across the leads to Sir Lucien's flat in Albemarle Street. I shall charge the man Juan Mareno.”

“What has he to say?” murmured the Assistant Commissioner, absently turning over the pages of the notebook. “Ah, yes. 'Claims to be a citizen of the United States but has produced no papers. Engaged by Sir Lucien Pyne in San Francisco. Professes to have no evidence to offer. Admitted Mrs. Monte Irvin to Sir Lucien's flat on night of murder. Sir Lucien and Mrs. Irvin went out together shortly afterwards, and Sir Lucien ordered him (Mareno) to go for the car to garage in South Audley Street and drive to club, where Sir Lucien proposed to dine. Mareno claims to have followed instructions. After waiting near club for an hour, learned from hall porter that Sir Lucien had not been there that evening. Drove car back to garage and returned to Albemarle Street shortly 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 inquiring about Sir Lucien, and the people at the garage testify that he took out the 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 waiting for club members stand in a narrow side turning. Mareno is a surly brute, and he might have waited an hour without speaking to a soul. Unless another chauffeur happened to notice and recognize the car nobody would 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 any event. There is no question of an alibi. Sir Lucien's wrist-watch was broken at seven-fifteen—evidently at the time of his death; and this man 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 fierce eyes.

“From what you have gathered respecting the appearance of Kazmah, does it seem possible that Mareno may be Kazmah?”

“It does not, sir. Kazmah has been described to me, at first hand and at second hand. All descriptions tally in one respect: Kazmah has remarkably large eyes. In Miss Halley's evidence you will note that she refers 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 only have been Mareno. Sir Lucien had no other resident servant; he was a man who lived almost entirely at restaurants and clubs. Again, somebody cleaned up his papers, and it was somebody who knew where to look for them.”

“Quite so—quite so,” murmured the Assistant Commissioner. “Of course, we shall learn today something of his affairs from his banker. He must have banked somewhere. But surely, Chief Inspector, there is a safe or private bureau in his flat?”

“There is, sir,” said Kerry grimly; “a safe. I had it opened at six o'clock this morning. It had been hastily cleaned out; not a doubt of it. I expect Sir Lucien carried the keys on his person. You will remember, sir, that his pockets had been emptied?”

“H'm,” mused the Assistant Commissioner. “This Cubanis Cigarette Company, Chief Inspector?”

“Dummy goods!” rapped Kerry. “A blind. Just a back entrance to Kazmah's office. Premises were leased on behalf of an agent. This agent—a reputable man of business—paid the rent quarterly. I've seen him.”

“And who was his client?” asked the Assistant Commissioner, displaying a faint 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 gleamed savagely.

“Mr. Isaacs represented himself as a dealer in Covent Garden who was leasing the office for a lady friend, and who desired, for domestic reasons, to cover his tracks. As ready money in large amounts changes hands in the market, Mr. Isaacs paid ready money to the agent. Beyond doubt 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 to have letters addressed there. A man of smoke, sir, acting on behalf of someone in the background.”

“Ah! and these Bond Street premises have been occupied by Kazmah for the past eight years?”

“So I am told. I have yet to see representatives of the landlord. I may add that Sir Lucien Pyne had lived in Albemarle Street for about the same 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 no trace 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 Kazmah has seen a man and also a woman, go up to the third floor on several occasions, and he seems to think they went to the Cubanis office. But he'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 this morning.”

The Assistant Commissioner sighed yet more wearily.

“Apart from the suspicions of Miss Margaret Halley, you have no sound basis for supposing that Kazmah dealt in prohibited drugs?” he inquired.

“The evidence of Miss Halley, the letter left for her