Chinese -- England -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
"By means of the silk necktie," said Miss Pewsey with a
triumphant smile, and related how Rupert had received the scarf
from Olivia, "if he is guiltless how came his silk tie round the
throat of Sophia?"
Rodgers was shaken by this piece of evidence. "It looks queer I
admit," he said: then added, "I understand that Mr. Ainsleigh is
an admirer of Miss Rayner."
"He wants to marry her, and she is in love with him," said Miss
Pewsey, "which is an additional reason for the crime."
"I don't understand."
"You're not a sharp man," said the old woman tranquilly, "don't
you see that as Miss Rayner inherits dearest Sophia's money, she
will get the mortgage also. Then with that, and the five thousand
pounds Mr. Ainsleigh would be free from his money-troubles. Well," she
added sharply, as the detective rose, "what do you say?"
"Nothing at present. Give me the address of Dr. Forge who, I
believe, examined the body, and of your nephew and Mr. Ainsleigh."
Miss Pewsey did this with alacrity and accompanied Rodgers to
the door. "Don't spare him," she said venomously, "he's guilty
and he shall hang," and she shut the door herself.
"What a spiteful woman," mused Rodgers, leaving Ivy Lodge, "her
story is so very explicit that I am inclined to doubt it. She
wants this young man scragged. Why?"
He could find no answer to this question, but went on his way to
see Clarence Burgh. His interview with the buccaneer was brief,
Clarence related the story of the yacht, and set forth his
theory of Tung-yu. "Mind," said he, "I don't like Ainsleigh, as
he's trying to run the girl I want to hitch long-side of. But I
guess he didn't scragg the old girl."
"You speak fairer than your aunt," said Rodgers dryly.
Clarence heaved up his right shoulder, "Huh," said he, "if you
go by woman's jaw, you'll get on the shoals. Tung-yu scragged
the old girl, you bet, and he's on his way to China in that
yacht."
"Well, we'll see if we can't stop the yacht. She must coal
somewhere. What is her name?"
"The Stormy Petrel," said Clarence, "I got that out of a
boatman, who was rowing about her yesterday."
"Did he see any Chinaman on board?"
"No. He didn't see anyone. There didn't appear to be anyone about, or
else they were at tea," concluded Clarence ungrammatically.
"Humph," said the detective, noting the name of the yacht, "do
you know anything of the silk tie?"
"No. Aunt Lavinia says it belongs to Ainsleigh, but I never saw
it till it was round the throat of the old girl. I should like
to think he put it there," said Clarence pleasantly, "for I want
that chap out of the way; but I believe Tung-yu's the man."
"Perhaps he is. Have you a copy of that advertisement?"
"No. But I reckon Ainsleigh has. Ain't you going to see him?"
Rogers nodded. "Straight away. And I thank you for what you have
told me. You want him hanged I presume."
"Well no I reckon not. He's in my way, but I can lay him out on
my own, without the lynching biznai."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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