by Sax Rohmer
CHAPTER XXV. NIGHT-LIFE OF SOHO
It was close upon midnight when Detective-Sergeant Coombes appeared in acertain narrow West End thoroughfare, which was lined with taxicabs andprivate cars. He wore a dark overcoat and a tweed cap, and although hischin was buried in the genial folds of a woollen comforter, and his capwas pulled down over his eyes, his sly smile could easily be detectedeven in the dim light afforded by the car lamps. He seemed to havebusiness of a mysterious nature among the cabmen; for with each of themin turn he conducted a brief conversation, passing unobtrusivelyfrom cab to cab, and making certain entries in a notebook. Finally hedisappeared. No one actually saw him go, and no one had actually seenhim arrive. At one moment, however, he was there; in the next he wasgone.
Five minutes later Chief Inspector Kerry entered the street. His darkovercoat and white silk muffler concealed a spruce dress suit, a factbetrayed by black, braided trousers, unusually tight-fitting, and bootswhich almost glittered. He carried the silver-headed malacca cane, andhad retained his narrow-brimmed bowler at its customary jaunty angle.
Passing the lines of waiting vehicles, he walked into the entrance ofa popular night-club which faced the narrow street. On a loungeimmediately inside the doorway a heated young man was sitting fanninghis dancing partner and gazing into her weakly pretty face in vacuousadoration.
Kerry paused for a moment, staring at the pair. The man returned hisstare, looking him up and down in a manner meant to be contemptuous.Kerry's fierce, intolerant gaze became transferred to the face and thenthe figure of the woman. He tilted his hat further forward and turnedaside. The woman's glance followed him, to the marked disgust of hercompanion.
"Oh," she whispered, "what a delightfully savage man! He lookspositively uncivilized. I have no doubt he drags women about by theirhair. I do hope he's a member!"
Mollie Gretna spoke loudly enough for Kerry to hear her, but unmovedby her admiration he stepped up to the reception office. He was in highgood humor. He had spent the afternoon agreeably, interviewing certainofficials charged with policing the East End of London, and hadsucceeded, to quote his own language, "in getting a gale up."Despite the coldness of the weather, he had left two inspectors and aspeechlessly indignant superintendent bathed in perspiration.
"Are you a member, sir?" inquired the girl behind the desk.
Kerry smiled genially. A newsboy thrust open the swing-door, yelling:"Bond Street murder! A fresh development. Late speshul!"
"Oh!" cried Mollie Gretna to her companion, "get me a paper. Be quick! Iam so excited!"
Kerry took up a pen, and in large bold hand-writing inscribed thefollowing across two pages of the visitors' book:
"Chief Inspector Kerry. Criminal Investigation Department."
He laid a card on the open book, and, thrusting his cane under his arm,walked to the head of the stairs.
"Cloak-room on the right, sir," said an attendant.
Kerry paused, glancing over his shoulder and chewing audibly. Then hesettled his hat more firmly upon his red head and descended the stairs.The attendant went to inspect the visitors' book, but Mollie Gretna wasat the desk before him, and:
"Oh, Bill!" she cried to her annoyed cavalier, "it's InspectorKerry--who is in charge of poor Lucy's murder! Oh, Bill! this is lovely!Something is going to happen! Do come down!"
Followed by the obedient but reluctant "Bill," Mollie ran downstairs,and almost into the arms of a tall dark girl, who, carrying a purpleopera cloak, was coming up.
"You're not going yet, Dickey?" said Mollie, throwing her arm around theother's waist.
"Ssh!" whispered "Dickey." "Inspector Kerry is here! You don't want tobe called as a witness at nasty inquests and things, do you?"
"Good heavens, my dear, no! But why should I be?"
"Why should any of us? But don't you see they are looking for the peoplewho used to go to Kazmah's? It's in the paper tonight. We shall all beserved with subpoenas. I'm off!"
Escaping from Mollie's embrace, the tall girl ran up the stairs, kissingher hand to Bill as she passed. Mollie hesitated, looking all about thecrowded room for Chief Inspector Kerry. Presently she saw him, standingnearly opposite the stairway, his intolerant blue eyes turning right andleft, so that the fierce glance seemed to miss nothing and no one in theroom. Hands thrust in his overcoat pockets and his cane held underhis arm, he inspected the place and its occupants as a very aggressivecountry cousin might inspect the monkey-house at the Zoo. To Mollie'sintense disappointment he persistently avoided looking in her direction.
Although a popular dance was on the point of commencing, severalvisitors had suddenly determined to leave. Kerry pretended to beignorant of the sensation which his appearance had created, passingslowly along the room and submitting group after group to deliberatescrutiny; but as news flies through an Eastern bazaar the name of thecelebrated detective, whose association with London's latest crimewas mentioned by every evening paper in the kingdom, sped now on magicwings, so that there was a muted charivari out of which, in every keyfrom bass to soprano, arose ever and anon the words "Chief InspectorKerry."
"It's perfectly ridiculous but characteristically English," drawledone young man, standing beside Mollie Gretna, "to send out a ballyred-headed policeman in preposterous glad-rags to look for a clevercriminal. Kerry is well known to all the crooks, and nobody couldmistake him. Damn silly--damn silly!"
As "damn silly" Kerry's open scrutiny of the members and visitors musthave appeared to others, but it was a deliberate policy very popularwith the Chief Inspector, and termed by him "beating." Possessed ofan undisguisable personality, Kerry had found a way of employing hisnatural physical peculiarities to his professional advantage. Whereother investigators worked in the dark, secretly, Red Kerry sought thelimelight--at the right time. That every hour lost in getting onthe track of the mysterious Kazmah was a point gained by the equallymysterious man from Whitehall he felt assured, and although theelaborate but hidden mechanism of New Scotland Yard was at work seekingout the patrons of the Bond Street drug-shop, Kerry was indisposed toawait the result.
He had been in the night club only about ten minutes, but during thoseten minutes fully a dozen people had more or less hurriedly departed.Because of the arrangements already made by Sergeant Coombes, theaddresses of many of these departing visitors would be in Kerry'spossession ere the night was much older. And why should they have fled,incontinent, if not for the reason that they feared to become involvedin the Kazmah affair? All the cabmen had been warned, and thosefugitives who had private cars would be followed.
It was a curious scene which Kerry surveyed, a scene to have interestedphilosopher and politician alike. For here were representatives of everystratum of society, although some of those standing for the lower stratawere suitably disguised. The peerage was well represented, so was Judah;there were women entitled to wear coronets dancing with men entitled towear the broad arrow, and men whose forefathers had signed Magna Chartadancing with chorus girls from the revues and musical comedies.
Waiting until the dance was fully in progress, Inspector Kerry walkedslowly around the room in the direction of the stair. Parties seated attables were treated each to an intolerant stare, alcoves were inspected,and more than one waiter meeting the gaze of the steely eyes, felt aprickling of conscience and recalled past peccadilloes.
Bill had claimed Mollie Gretna for the dance, but:
"No, Bill," she had replied, watching Kerry as if enthralled; "I don'twant to dance. I am watching Chief Inspector Kerry."
"That's evident," complained the young man. "Perhaps you would like tospend the rest of the night in Bow Street?"
"Oh," whispered Mollie, "I should love it! I have never been arrested,but if ever I am I hope it will be by Chief Inspector Kerry. I ampositive he would haul me away in handcuffs!"
When Kerry came to the foot of the stairs, Mollie quite deliberately gotin his way, murmured an apology, and gave him a sidelong gaze throughlowered lashes, which was more eloquent than any th
esis. He smiled withfierce geniality, looked her up and down, and proceeded to mount thestairs, with never a backward glance.
His genius for criminal investigation possessed definite limitations. Hecould not perhaps have been expected in tactics so completely opposed tothose which he had anticipated to recognize the presence of a valuablewitness. Student of human nature though undoubtedly he was, he hadnot solved the mystery of that outstanding exception which seems to beinvolved in every rule.
Thus, a fellow with a low forehead and a weakly receding chin, Kerryclassified as a dullard, a witling, unaware that if the brow were butlow enough and the chin virtually absent altogether he might stand inthe presence of a second Daniel. Physiognomy is a subtle science, andthe exceptions to its rules are often of a sensational character. In thesame way Kerry looked for evasion, and, where possible, flight, onthe part of one possessing a guilty conscience. Mollie Gretna was aphenomenal exception to a rule otherwise sound. And even one familiarwith criminal psychology might be forgiven for failing to detect guiltin a woman anxious to make the acquaintance of a prominent member of theCriminal Investigation Department.
Pausing for a moment in the entrance of the club, and chewingreflectively, Kerry swung open the door and walked out into the street.He had one more cover to "beat," and he set off briskly, plunging intothe mazes of Soho crossing Wardour Street into old Compton Street, andproceeding thence in the direction of Shaftesbury Avenue. Turning tothe right on entering the narrow thoroughfare for which he was bound,he stopped and whistled softly. He stood in the entrance to a court; andfrom further up the court came an answering whistle.
Kerry came out of the court again, and proceeded some twenty paces alongthe street to a restaurant. The windows showed no light, but the doorremained open, and Kerry entered without hesitation, crossed a darkenedroom and found himself in a passage where a man was seated in a littleapartment like that of a stage-door keeper. He stood up, on hearingKerry's tread, peering out at the newcomer.
"The restaurant is closed, sir."
"Tell me a better one," rapped Kerry. "I want to go upstairs."
"Your card, sir."
Kerry revealed his teeth in a savage smile and tossed his card on to thedesk before the concierge. He passed on, mounting the stairs at the endof the passage. Dimly a bell rang; and on the first landing Kerry met aheavily built foreign gentleman, who bowed.
"My dear Chief Inspector," he said gutturally, "what is this, please? Itrust nothing is wrong, eh?"
"Nothing," replied Kerry. "I just want to look round."
"A few friends," explained the suave alien, rubbing his hands togetherand still bowing, "remain playing dominoes with me."
"Very good," rapped Kerry. "Well, if you think we have given them timeto hide the 'wheel' we'll go in. Oh, don't explain. I'm not worryingabout sticklebacks tonight. I'm out for salmon."
He opened a door on the left of the landing and entered a largeroom which offered evidence of having been hastily evacuated by aconsiderable company. A red and white figured cloth of a type muchused in Continental cafes had been spread upon a long table, and threeforeigners, two men and an elderly woman, were bending over a row ofdominoes set upon one corner of the table. Apparently the men wereplaying and the woman was watching. But there was a dense cloud of cigarsmoke in the room, and mingled with its pungency were sweeter scents. Anumber of empty champagne bottles stood upon a sideboard and an elegantsilk theatre-bag lay on a chair.
"H'm," said Kerry, glaring fiercely from the bottles to the players, whocovertly were watching him. "How you two smarts can tell a domino from adoor-knocker after cracking a dozen magnums gets me guessing."
He took up the scented bag and gravely handed it to the old woman.
"You have mislaid your bag, madam," he said. "But, fortunately, Inoticed it as I came in."
He turned the glance of his fierce eyes upon the man who had met him onthe landing, and who had followed him into the room.
"Third floor, von Hindenburg," he rapped. "Don't argue. Lead the way."
For one dangerous moment the man's brow lowered and his heavy face grewblackly menacing. He exchanged a swift look with his friends seated atthe disguised roulette table. Kerry's jaw muscles protruded enormously.
"Give me another answer like that," he said in a tone of cold ferocity,"and I'll kick you from here to Paradise."
"No offense--no offense," muttered the man, quailing before the savageryof the formidable Chief Inspector. "You come this way, please. Someladies call upon me this evening, and I do not want to frighten them."
"No," said Kerry, "you wouldn't, naturally." He stood aside as a doorat the further end of the room was opened. "After you, my friend. I said'lead the way.'"
They mounted to the third floor of the restaurant. The room which theyhad just quitted was used as an auxiliary dining and supper-room beforemidnight, as Kerry knew. After midnight the centre table was unmasked,and from thence onward to dawn, sometimes, was surrounded by rouletteplayers. The third floor he had never visited, but he had a shrewd ideathat it was not entirely reserved for the private use of the proprietor.
A babel of voices died away as the two men walked into a room rathersmaller than that below and furnished with little tables, cafe fashion.At one end was a grand piano and a platform before which a velvetcurtain was draped. Some twenty people, men and women, were in theplace, standing looking towards the entrance. Most of the men and allthe women but one were in evening dress; but despite this common armorof respectability, they did not all belong to respectable society.
Two of the women Kerry recognized as bearers of titles, and one wasfamiliar to him as a screen-beauty. The others were unclassifiable, butall were fashionably dressed with the exception of a masculine-lookinglady who had apparently come straight off a golf course, and who laterwas proved to be a well-known advocate of woman's rights. The men allbelonged to familiar types. Some of them were Jews.
Kerry, his feet widely apart and his hands thrust in his overcoatpockets, stood staring at face after face and chewing slowly. Theproprietor glanced apologetically at his patrons and shrugged. Silencefell upon the company. Then:
"I am a police officer," said Kerry sharply. "You will file out past me,and I want a card from each of you. Those who have no cards will writename and address here."
He drew a long envelope and a pencil from a pocket of his dinner jacket.Laying the envelope and pencil on one of the little tables:
"Quick march!" he snapped. "You, sir!" shooting out his forefinger inthe direction of a tall, fair young man, "step out!"
Glancing helplessly about him, the young man obeyed, and approachingKerry:
"I say, officer," he whispered nervously, "can't you manage to keepmy name out of it? I mean to say, my people will kick up the deuce.Anything up to a tenner...."
The whisper faded away. Kerry's expression had grown positivelyferocious.
"Put your card on the table," he said tersely, "and get out while myhands stay in my pockets!"
Hurriedly the noble youth (he was the elder son of an earl) complied,and departed. Then, one by one, the rest of the company filed past theChief Inspector. He challenged no one until a Jew smilingly laid a cardon the table bearing the legend: "Mr. John Jones, Lincoln's Inn Fields."
"Hi!" rapped Kerry, grasping the man's arm. "One moment, Mr. 'Jones'!The card I want is in the other case. D'you take me for a mug? That'Jones' trick was tried on Noah by the blue-faced baboon!"
His perception of character was wonderful. At some of the cards he didnot even glance; and upon the women he wasted no time at all. He took itfor granted that they would all give false names, but since each of themwould be followed it did not matter. When at last the room was emptied,he turned to the scowling proprietor, and:
"That's that!" he said. "I've had no instructions about yourestablishment, my friend, and as I've seen nothing improper going on I'mmaking no charge, at the moment. I don't want to know what sort of showtakes place on your platform, and I don't w
ant to know anything aboutyou that I don't know already. You're a Swiss subject and a dark horse."
He gathered up the cards from the table, glancing at them carelessly.He did not expect to gain much from his possession of these names andaddresses. It was among the women that he counted upon finding patronsof Kazmah and Company. But as he was about to drop the cards into hisovercoat pocket, one of them, which bore a written note, attracted hisattention.
At this card he stared like a man amazed; his face grew more and morered, and:
"Hell!" he said--"Hell! which of 'em was it?"
The card contained the following:--
Lord Wrexborough Great Cumberland Place, V. 1 "To introduce 719. W."