The lesser mystery was solved, but the
greater was before him.
He had made a careful study of the geography of the neighborhood, and
although the fog was still dense enough to be confusing, he found his
way without much difficulty to the street for which he was bound. Some
fifteen paces along the narrow thoroughfare he came upon someone
standing by a closed door set in a high brick wall. The street
contained no dwelling houses, and except for the solitary figure by
the door was deserted and silent. Kerry took out his torch and shone a
white ring upon the smiling countenance of Detective-Sergeant Coombes.
"If that smile gets any worse," he said irritably, "they'll have to
move your ears back. Anything to report?"
"Sin Sin Wa went to bed an hour ago."
"Any visitors?"
"No."
"Has he been out?"
"No."
"Got the ladder?"
"Yes."
"All quiet in the neighborhood?"
"All quiet."
"Good."
The street in which this conversation took place was one running
roughly parallel with that in which the house of Sin Sin Wa was
situated. A detailed search of the Chinaman's premises had failed to
bring to light any scrap of evidence to show that opium had ever been
smoked there. Of the door described by Mollie Gretna, and said to
communicate with the adjoining establishment, not a trace could be
found.
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