"I wonder if he did!" muttered the detective. "Still," he continued, turning to Wing, "a lot of your people when they come here, stop, don't they?"
"Many stop in this country," said Wing.
"Laundry business, eating-houses, groceries, and so on?" suggested Scarterfield. "And chiefly in the places I've mentioned, eh?—the East End of London, Liverpool, and the two big Welsh towns? Now, I want to ask you a question. This man I'm talking of, Chuh Fen, was certainly in London three years ago. Are there places and people in London where one could get to hear of him?"
"Where I could get to hear of him—yes," answered Wing.
"You say—where you could get to hear of him," remarked Scarterfield. "Does that mean that you would get information which I shouldn't get?"
The very faintest ghost of a smile showed itself in the wrinkles about the Chinaman's eyes. He inclined his head a little, politely, and Lorrimore stepped into the arena.
"What Wing means is that being a Chinaman himself, naturally he could get news of a fellow-Chinaman from fellow-Chinamen where you, an Englishman, wouldn't get any at all!" he said with a laugh. "I dare say that if you, Mr. Scarterfield, went down Limehouse way seeking particulars about Chuh Fen, you'd be met with blank faces and stopped ears."
"That's just what I'm suggesting, doctor," answered the detective, good-humouredly. "I'll put the thing in a nutshell—my profound belief is that if we want to get at the bottom of these two murders we've got to go back a long way, to the Elizabeth Robinson time, and that Chuh Fen is the only person I've heard of, up to now, who can throw a light on that episode. And it seems to me, to be plain about it, that Mr. Wing there could be extremely useful."
"How?" asked Lorrimore. "He's at your service, I'm sure."
"Well, by finding out if this Chuh Fen, when he was here, three years since, made any revelations to his Chinese brethren in Limehouse or elsewhere," replied Scarterfield. "He may have known something about the brothers Quick and concerning that Elizabeth Robinson affair that would help immensely. Any little thing!—a mere scrap of information—just a bit of chance gossip—a hint—you don't know how valuable these things are. The mere germ of a clue—you know!"