“That brings me to my last point, sir. From Mrs. Irvin’s maid I learned that her mistress was acquainted with a certain Mrs. Sin.” “Mrs. Sin? Incredible name.” “She’s a woman reputed to be married to a Chinaman. Inspector Whiteleaf, of Vine Street, knows her by sight as one of the night-club birds—a sort of mysterious fungus, sir, flowering in the dark and fattening on gilded fools. Unless I’m greatly mistaken, Mrs. Sin is the link between the doped cigarettes and the missing Kazmah.” “Does anyone know where she lives?” “Lots of ’em know!” snapped Kerry. “But it’s making them speak.” “To whom do you more particularly refer, Chief Inspector?” “To the moneyed asses and the brainless women belonging to a certain West End set, sir,” said Kerry savagely. “They go in for every monstrosity from Buenos Ayres, Port Said and Pekin. They get up dances that would make a wooden horse blush. They eat _hashish_ and they smoke opium. They inject morphine, and they would have their hair dyed blue if they heard it was ‘being done.’” “Ah,” sighed the Assistant Commissioner, “a very delicate and complex case, Chief Inspector. The agony of mind which Mr. Irvin must be suffering is too horrible for one to contemplate. An admirable man, too; honorable and generous. I can conceive no theory to account for the disappearance of Mrs. Irvin other than that she was a party to the murder.” “No, sir,” said Kerry guardedly. “But we have the dope clue to work on. That the Chinese receive stuff in the East End and that it’s sold in the West End every constable in the force is well aware. Leman Street is getting busy, and every shady case in the Piccadilly area will be beaten up within the next twenty-four hours, too. It’s purely departmental, sir, from now onwards, and merely a question of time. Therefore I don’t doubt the issue.” Kerry paused, cleared his throat, and produced a foolscap envelope which he laid upon the table before the Assistant Commissioner. “With very deep regret, sir,” he said, “after a long and agreeable association with the Criminal Investigation Department, I have to tender you this.” The Assistant Commissioner took up the envelope and stared at it vaguely. “Ah, yes, Chief Inspector,” he murmured. “Perhaps I fail entirely to follow you; I am somewhat over-worked, as you know. What does this envelope contain?” “My resignation, sir,” replied Kerry. CHAPTER XXIV. TO INTRODUCE 719 Some moments of silence followed. Sounds of traffic from the Embankment penetrated dimly to the room of the Assistant Commissioner; ringing of tram bells and that vague sustained noise which is created by the whirring of countless wheels along hard pavements. Finally: “You have selected a curious moment to retire, Chief Inspector,” said the Assistant Commissioner. “Your prospects were never better. No doubt you have considered the question of your pension?” “I know what I’m giving up, sir,” replied Kerry.