As Burke followed the doctor from the laboratory, he recalled a subtleness in the man’s last sentences.
Palermo had said that he would discuss Chatham “as he was.” Did that mean that Chatham no longer lived?
The newspaperman realized that he was dealing with a genius who spoke with double meanings.
Therefore, he resolved upon extreme discretion.
Hassan met the men outside the laboratory. Doctor Palermo made a sign with his right hand. The servant assisted him in removing his laboratory garments. Then he brought out an Oriental robe of deep crimson, embroidered with gold dragons. Evidently a Chinese dress, thought Burke.
Doctor Palermo donned the robe, and his whole appearance changed. He looked more like a mandarin than a physician. A strange man, thought Burke. Yet Palermo’s next action was more remarkable.
He snapped his fingers, and as though in answer to a command, a panel slid open in the wall beside the laboratory door. It revealed a circular staircase.
With a motion to follow, the crimson-clad physician went up the staircase, with Burke at his heels.
They reached a penthouse on the roof. Here was a gorgeous room, bizarre in its Oriental furnishings.
Doctor Palermo seemed to fit into the surroundings, while Burke felt out of place. The physician sat in a large chair that was almost thronelike, and Burke took his position on a high-backed couch.