Daughter of Fu Manchu

by Sax Rohmer

  Nayland Smith beckoned to me. I rose and walked very unsteadily along the terrace to his room.

  6

  "Rima!" I said. "Rima! My God, Sir Denis, what does it mean?"

  He grasped by shoulder hard.

  "Nothing," he replied.

  His keen eyes studied my amazement.

  "Nothing? "

  "Just that--nothing. I warned you it might prove to be an ordeal. Sit down. A peg of whisky will do us both good...."

  I sat down without another word. And Nayland Smith brewed two stiff pegs.

  Handing one to me:

  "Here's part of the explanation," he jerked --and held a book under my nose. "Smell. Only one sniff!"

  A sickly-sweet odour came from the open pages. The book was that which Rima had been reading in the library.

  "Familiar?"

  I nodded; and took a long drink. My hand was none too steady. It was a perfume I could never forget. It formed my last memory of the meeting of the Seven at el-Kharga; my first memory of that dreadful awakening in the green-gold room in Limehouse!

  "Hashish!" snapped Nayland Smith--"or something prepared from it. Rima, by means of this doped book, was put into a receptive condition. It's a routine, Greville, with which Petrie is unhappily familiar... hence Petrie's detention on the way!

  "Fah Lo Suee is an accomplished hypnotist! For this piece of knowledge I am also indebted to the doctor: he once all but succumbed to her... and she was only in her teens in those days. She was posted outside the closed french windows of the library tonight. In some way, and at the psychological moment, she attracted Rima's attention--and obtained mental control over her. "

  "But... is this possible? "

  "You have seen it in full operation." he answered. "Rima was given hypnotic orders to go to her room for a scent-spray. She obeyed. That was when, from my post in the Chinese cabinet, I heard her hurry upstairs. She brought the spray, opened the window-- I heard her--and gave it to Fah Lo Suee-- whose name, by the way, means 'Sweet Perfume'. It was emptied, recharged and returned to her. She reclosed the window... having received those detailed post-hypnotic instructions which we have seen her carry out to-night. "

  "But--my bewilderment was increasing --"I spoke to her after this! I even asked why she had fetched the scent-spray, and she said she had detected a sickly smell--like decaying leaves--and thought it would freshen the air."

  Tart other orders!" he rapped. "Next, she was instructed to go to bed and sleep until midnight; then to spray me with the contents --which I preserved for analysis and replaced with water!--and then to remove all traces-- as we know she did do! My dear fellow, Rima is utterly unaware that she has played this part... and doubtless it would have been an easy death! "

  "You mean,when she wakes, she will know nothing about now--"

  "Nothing whatever! Unless, perhaps, as in Petrie's case, the memory of a troubled dream. However, I have hopes... if my Morse orders were promptly obeyed. "

  "You mean your signal to Weymouth?"

  He nodded, and:

  "The 'gypsies,'" he rapped.

  "What!" "Three are dacoits--one posing as an old hag! The Toy of the party is Fah Lo Suee!"

  Chapter Eleventh

  DR. AMBER

  "I can't blame myself," said Weymouth, staring disconsolately out of the window. "She's slipped through our fingers again. A real chip of the old block," he added. "It took a load off my mind, after the Limehouse raid, to hear that Nayland Smith had seen Fu Manchu himself, in person, in Paris--and lost him!..."

  The "gypsy" caravan behind the big plan- tation which formed a western boundary to Sir Lionel's Norfolk place had been seized by a party of constabulary under Weymouth's command--and had proved to be empty. This had happened three days before, but it still rankled in the superintendent's mind.

  "I can't hang on here indefinitely," he explained, "I'm badly needed in Cairo at the moment. The disappearance of Sir Denis and yourself was the real excuse for my leave, but now...."

  His point was clear enough. Weymouth was a staunch friend, but he loved his job. He had come to England in pursuit of a clue which suggested that Nayland Smith and I had been smuggled into Europe. We were found. Duty called him back.

  "It isn't your present job, I admit," said I; "but it's the tail end of an old one, after all!"

  He turned and stared at me across the room. I was back at the Park Avenue looking after a hundred and one interests of the chief's which centred in London. He, with Rima, remained in Norfolk--where, now that Nayland Smith had left, he might count on peace. Of Nayland Smith's present move- ments I knew nothing.

  "You've hit it!" Weymouth admitted. "I'd like to be in at the death."

  Certainly it was a queer situation for him --for all of us. Dr. Fu Manchu, most formidable of all those greater criminals who from time to time disturb the world, was alive ... and his daughter, no poor second to this stupendous genius, had already proved that she was competent to form subject of debate in the councils of the highest.

  Weymouth's expression struck me as ominous; and:

  "The death is likely to be that of Nayland Smith," I said, "judging from our experience at Abbots Hold."

  Weymouth nodded.

  "He stands between her and all she aims for," he replied. "He's countered two of her first three moves and he's promised me word within the next hour. But"--he stared at me very grimly--"you and I, Greville, know more about the group called the Si Fan than most people outside it."

  I laughed--somewhat hollowly, perhaps.

  "Get back to Cairo," I advised. "It's prob- ably safer than London at the moment--for you."

  Weymouth's sense of humour on such points always failed him. His blue eyes hard- ened; he literally glared at me; and:

  "I never ran away from Dr. Fu Manchu," he replied. "If you think I'm going to run away from his daughter you're wrong."

  At that I laughed again, and this time my laughter rang true. I punched the speaker playfully.

  "Don't you know when I'm pulling your leg?" I asked. "I'd put my last shilling on your being here, job or no job, until the end of this thing is clearly in sight! "

  "Oh!" said Weymouth, his naive smile softening the hard mask which had fallen when I had suggested his retiring to Cairo. "Well, I don't think you'd lose your money."

  But when he had gone, I took his place at the window and stared down on the panorama of Piccadilly. I was thinking of Nayland Smith.... "He stands between her and all she aims for."... How true that was!

  Yes, he held most of the strings. Fah Lo Suee had started with a heavy handicap. Ibrahim Bey occupied a prison cell in Brixton Prison. He would be tried and duly sentenced for attempted robbery with violence. The public would never leam the whole truth. But Ibrahim Bey might be counted out of the running. The Egyptian authorities, working in concert with the French in Syria, were looking for Sheikh Ismail; and the Mandarin Ki Ming would have to hide very cleverly to escape the vigilance of those who had been advised of his aims....

  My phone bell rang. I turned and took up the receiver.

  "Yes? "

  "Is Mr. Shan Greville there? "

  "Speaking."

  The voice--that of a man who spoke perfect English but who was not an Englishman--sounded tauntingly familiar.

  "My name will be known to you, I believe, Mr. Greville. I am called Dr. Amber."

  Dr. Amber! The mysterious physician whose treatment had restored Sir Lionel-- whom I had to thank for my own recovery! "Owing to peculiar circumstances, which I hope to explain to you, I have hitherto been able to help only in a rather irregular way," he went on. "Because of this--and of the imminent danger to which I am exposed--I must make a somewhat odd request." "What is it? "

  "It is this: All I have to tell you is at your disposal. But you must promise to treat myself as non-existent. I have approached you in this way because the life of Sir Denis Nayland Smith is threatened--to-night! My record backs my assurance that this is a friendly overture. Have I
your promise? "

  "Yes--certainly! "

  "Good. It will be a short journey, Mr. Greville--not three minutes' walk. I am staying at Babylon House, Piccadilly; Flat Number 7. May I ask you to step across? You have ample time before dinner." "I'll come right away."

  Dr. Amber! Who was Dr. Amber? Where did he fit into this intricate puzzle which had sidetracked so many lives? Whoever he might be, he had shown himself a friend, and without hesitation, but fired by an intense curiosity, I set out for Babylon House--a block of service flats nearly opposite Burlington Arcade.

  A lift-man took me to the top floor and indicated a door on the right.. I stepped up to it and rang the bell.

  The elevator was already descending before the door opened... and I saw before me the Chinese physician who had attended me in that green and gold room in Lime-house! Fear--incredulity--anger all must have been readable in my expression, when:

  "You gave me your promise, Mr. Greville," said the China man, smiling. "I give you mine, if it is necessary, that you are safe and with a friend. Please come in."

  2

  The typical and scanty appointments of the apartment into which I was shown possessed a reassuring quality. From a high window with a narrow balcony I could see the entrance to Burlington Arcade and part of one wall of the Albany.

  "Won't you sit down?" said my host, who wore morning dress and looked less charac- teristically Chinese than he had looked in white overalls.

  I sat down.

  A small writing-desk set before the window was littered with torn documents, and a longer table in the centre of the room bore stacks of newspapers. I saw the London Evening News, the Times of India, and the Chicago Tribune amongst this odd assort- ment. Certain paragraphs appeared to have been cut out with scissors. The floor was littered with oddments. I noticed other defi- nite evidences of a speedy outgoing. A very large steamer trunk bearing the initials L. K. S. in white letters stood strapped in a corner of the room.

  "It is my purpose, Mr. Greville," said Dr. Amber, taking a seat near the desk and catching me steadily, "to explain certain matters which have been puzzling yourself and your friends. And perhaps in the first place, since I wish to be perfectly frank"--he glanced toward the big trunk--"I should tell you that 'Dr Amber' is a pseudonym. I am called Li King Su; I hold a medical degree of Canton; and I once had the pleasure of assisting Dr. Petrie in a very critical major operation. He will probably remember me.

  "You are quite naturally labouring under the impression that I belong to the organisation controlled by the Lady Fah Lo Suee. This is not so. I belong to another, older, organisation...."

  He stared at me intently. But I didn't interrupt him. I was considering that curious expression--"the Lady Fah Lo Suee. "

  "I was--shall we say?--a spy in the house in which you first met me. The lady called Fah Lo Suee has now discovered the imposture, and--"

  Again he paused, indicating the steamer trunk. "My usefulness is ended. I am a marked man, Mr. Greville. If I escape alive I shall be lucky. But let us talk of something else.... The Tomb of the Black Ape has proved something of a puzzle to Sir Denis Nayland Smith. The solution is simple:

  A representative of that older organisation to which I have referred was present when Lafleur opened the place many years ago. By arrangement with that distinguished Egyptol- ogist, it was reclosed. Later--in fact, early in 1918--a prominent official of our ancient society, passing through Egypt, had reason to suspect that certain treasures in his possession might be discovered and detained by the British Authorities--for these were troubled times. He proceeded up the Nile and success- fully concealed them in this tomb--the secret of which had been preserved with just such an end in view...."

  I suppose I must have known all along; but for some reason at this moment the iden- tity of "a representative of that older organi- sation" and "a prominent official of our ancient society" suddenly burst upon me with all the shock of novelty; and, meeting the glance of those inscrutable eyes which watched me so intently:

  "You are speaking of Dr. Fu Manchu!" I said. Li King Su permitted himself a slight deprecatory gesture. "It is desirable," he replied, "that those of whom I speak should remain anonymous!"

  But I continued to stare at him with a sort of horror. "By arrangement with that distin- guished Egyptologist," he had said smoothly.

  Good God! What kind of "arrangement"! "It was the intention of the hider," he went on, "that those potent secrets should remain concealed for ever. The activities of Professor Zeitland and Sir Lionel Barton created an unforeseen situation. It was complicated by the action of the Lady Fah Lo Suee. She had recently learned what was hidden there, but she was ignorant of how to recover it.... Professor Zeitland imparted his knowledge to her--then came Sir Lionel Barton...."

  He paused again, significantly.

  "We moved too late, Mr. Greville. An old schism in our ranks had made an enemy of one of the most brilliant and dangerous men in China--the exalted Mandarin Ki Ming. He gave the Lady Fah Lo Suee his aid. But we wasted no more time. I succeeded in gaining admittance to their councils. It was by means of their organisation that I intercepted Dr. Petrie's telegram to Sir Brian Hawkins. You know the use which I made of my knowledge.

  "Your present English Government is blind. You will lose Egypt as you have lost India. A great federation of Eastern States affiliated with Russia--a new Russia--is destined to take the place once held by the British Empire. You have one chance to recover...."

  The man's personality was beginning to get me. I had forgotten that I sat, inert, listening to a self-confessed servant of Dr. Fu Manchu: I only knew that he was raising veils beyond which I longed to peer.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  And, as I spoke a chill--not figurative but literal--turned me cold. I had detected Li King Su in the act of glancing toward a partially opened door which led to the bedroom....

  Definitely someone was listening!

  As if conscious of the fact that he had betrayed himself, "Dr. Amber" went on immediately:

  "A counter alliance! But we are getting out of our depth, Mr. Greville. To return to more personal matters: The schemes of the Lady Fah Lo Suee were not approved by us. The authority she has stolen must be restored to those who know how to wield it. In other words, Sir Denis Nayland Smith's aim and our own are identical--at the moment. But he is marked down! "

  "He knows it! "

  "He may know it--but to-night he is walking into a trap! Since he left Norfolk-- where he failed to arrest the prime mover-- you have lost touch with him. He is following up a clue discovered by Inspector Yale. It is a false clue... a snare. He stands in the way: she is afraid to move until he is silenced.

  "Here"--he handed me a slip of paper --"is the address to which he is going to- night. Death waits for him."

  I glanced at the writing.

  "The garden of this house adjoins the Regent Canal," Li King Su went on. "And it is intended that Sir Denis's body shall be found in the Canal in the morning! Here"-- he passed a second slip--"is the address at which Sir Denis is hiding."

  The second address was that of a Dr. Murray in a southwest suburb.

  "Dr. Murray bought Dr. Petrie's practice," the even voice continued, "when the latter went to Egypt. I must warn you against any attempt to communicate by tele- phone. The Lady Fah Lo Suee has a spy in the house! Take what steps you please, Mr. Greville, but move quickly! For my own part, I leave London in an hour. I can do no more. It is unnecessary to remind you of our bargain."

  3

  At the very moment that I entered the lift, that occult knowledge of being watched left me. It was the same--but intensified--as that which had warned me in Cairo, and later on the road to el-Kharga. Li King Su, on acquaintance, was a remarkable man. But some vastly greater personality had been concealed in that inner room. I could not forget that Dr. Fu Manchu had been seen a stone's throw from Babylon House!

  Could I trust Li King Su?

  Simple enough to test his state
ments. I had only to take a taxi to Dr. Murray's address.

  But, as I thought, as I walked out into Piccadilly, a mistake now might carry unimaginable consequences; better to consult Weymouth or Yale before I committed an irreparable blunder.

  Dusk was falling. I saw that the lamps in Burlington Arcade had been lighted as well as those in the Piccadilly Arcade which forms a sort of abbreviated continuation of the older bazaar and breaks through to Jermyn Street. Deep in thought I passed the entrance to the latter. A French sedan was drawn up beside the pavement.

  I was level with it when an exclamation of annoyance checked me sharply--and just prevented my collision with a woman who, crossing before me, had evidently been making for the car.

  She was a fashionable figure, wearing a fur-trimmed coat, and a short veil attached to her close-fitting hat quite obscured her features. She carried several parcels, one of which she had dropped almost at my feet.

  Steeping, I picked it up--a paper-wrapped package fastened with green tape and apparently containing very light purchases. The chauffeur sprang down and opened the door of the car, as:

  "Thank you very much," said the laden lady. "Will you be so kind as to hand it in to me?"

  She entered the car. I followed with the dropped package and bent forward into the dark interior. Through the opposite windows I saw the sign above a popular restaurant suddenly become illuminated. I detected a damnably familiar perfume....

  I was enveloped. I felt a sudden paralysing pressure in my spine--a muscular arm levered me into the car... and I realized that I had been garroted in Piccadilly, amid hundreds of passers-by and in sight of my hotel!

  4

  I shot up from green depths in which I had been submerged for an immeasurable time. I had dived into a deep lake, I thought, and had become entangled in clinging weeds which sprang from its bed. I could not free my limbs; I knew that I was drowning--that never again should I see the sun and the blue sky above....

  Then, the clasp of those octopus tentacles was relaxed. And I shot to the surface like a cork....

  Green!... Everything about me was green! What had happened? Where was I?