The Jade God by Alan Sullivan (snow like ashes series txt) 📕

it is possible that he may have met his master somewhere in the East, and the fact never came out?”

“I hadn’t thought of that, but now it begins to seem possible.”

“And that there had for some time existed between them something that ultimately culminated in murder?”

“We could not get as far as that at the inquest, sir.”

“Let it stand for the present. What was Martin’s manner or attitude while he gave evidence?”

“A bit surly, as he always is, though I think without meaning it. It’s a bit against him that he’s apt not to look one in the face.”

Derrick nodded. “Now I’ll only put one or two more questions. From what you know, do you imagine there can be any link or understanding between him and Perkins?”

The sergeant shook his head with decision. “What makes me feel there is not is that, from all I can gather, Perkins dislikes the man.”

“That seems to be so. When I took him on she preferred to do the boots and coals herself, though he was available. She’s doing them now. On the other hand, Martin has come back around the world, and Perkins seems riveted to the house. Neither of them displayed any particular interest in their wages. Martin jumped at thirty shillings a week, which is not much as things go now. The point is, why are they both so keen on Beech Lodge?”

Burke stroked his chin. “I suppose that’s one of those coincidences you spoke of. I’ll admit that they almost certainly know a good deal more than we’ve been able to get out of them, but we haven’t got enough evidence to hang your hat on. One can’t make an accusation on anything else, much less an arrest. It’s up to me to prove that so-and-so is guilty, and not for him to prove that he isn’t.”

“What then would you call a step toward real evidence?” asked Derrick, with a little lift in his voice.

“Proof that either Perkins or Martin had been lying at the inquest, or”⁠—he added with an incredulous smile⁠—“the discovery of that paper-knife, or even the image.”

Derrick put his hand in his pocket and laid a small dark green object on the table.

“Was it at all like this, sergeant?”

The blood rushed suddenly to the big man’s temples. “My God, sir! where did you find that?”

VI God⁠—Or Devil?

The thing on the table was a diminutive image, about three and a half inches high. It was carved, apparently, from a single block of the most perfect jade, and when the sergeant, fingering it delicately, held it toward the window, the light filtered through it, illuminating it with striking translucency. The base was perhaps two and a half inches square, supporting a tiny throne, on which sat a figure clothed in flowing robes. Each individual drape and fold was produced with absolute fidelity. The hands of the figure were folded, showing narrow fingernails of extreme length; and though the general suggestion was that of the god Buddha, Derrick remembered that in such images as he had seen the right hand was raised in benediction.

But there was no benediction here. The head was bent slightly forward, the slits of Oriental eyes were represented as half closed, and over the whole face rested an expression of utter and fiendish malignity. One could not imagine anything more devilish and cruel. There was power in the face, an abysmal knowledge that penetrated all human frailty and disguise, and a certain fixed, implacable purpose. Derrick had spent hours in secret scrutiny of the thing, and it seemed to him that here was the presentment of the embodiment of evil, and, fixed with an infinity of patient art, there had been transmitted to this opaque and precious stone the picture of some soul, wicked and irretrievably damned. Even now as he stared a chill ran through his body, and he glanced at the sergeant to determine whether he, too, were not susceptible to this malign emanation.

“I don’t know that I ever saw a more ugly thing in my life,” said the latter slowly. “Where did you find it, sir?”

“It’s not much use at the moment to try and tell you what led up to that. I can only say that ever since going into the house I have been conscious of something. I had no reason to believe that anything of this kind existed there, and in spite of what you have said I can’t quite see that this is really evidence, as yet. All we know is that it used to stand on Millicent’s desk and was missed after the murder. It may be the thing that both Martin and Perkins were seeking, but it was removed during that half-hour of which we spoke.”

“My first move would be to confront them both with this thing when they didn’t expect it, and watch what happened.”

“I’m afraid I can’t agree with you there. I’ve never studied your profession but fancy you’d get as much out of them as out of the image itself. Perkins has been under very close observation for weeks without knowing it, and her face is a mask. Martin is much the same. The minds of both of them are foreign countries, so far as we are concerned.”

The sergeant leaned forward. There was no doubt about his attitude now. “Perhaps you’re right, sir, but what is in your mind as to the next move?”

“I haven’t gone far enough to say, and there’s an old proverb about hurrying slowly. Meantime I’d like to know whether you agree that today there are aspects of the case that so far have not been considered at all?”

“In fairness to you, sir, I must admit that.”

“Then you’ll also agree that of the two ways of approaching it the inductive method is the only one to be considered?”

Burke was genuinely puzzled and showed it. “I’m afraid I don’t quite follow you there, Mr. Derrick. It sounds like one of those magazine stories where the police