"I know," said Lorrimore. He turned to his servant and addressed him in some strange tongue in which Wing at once responded: for some minutes they talked together, volubly: then Lorrimore looked round at Scarterfield.
"Wing says that if Chuh Fen was in London three years ago he can engage to find out how long he was here, whence he came and why, and where he went," he said. "I gather that there's a sort of freemasonry amongst these men—naturally, they seek each other out in strange lands, and there are places in London and the other parts to which a Chinaman resorts if he happens to land in England. This he can do for you—he's no doubt of it."
"There's another thing," said Scarterfield. "If Chuh Fen is still in England—as he may be—can he find him?"
Wing's smooth countenance, on hearing this, showed some sign of animation. Instead of replying to the detective, he again addressed his master in the foreign tongue. Lorrimore nodded and turned to Scarterfield with a slightly cynical smile.
"He says that if Chuh Fen is anywhere in England he can lay hands on him, quickly," said Lorrimore. "But—he adds that it might not be at all convenient to Chuh Fen to come into the full light of day: Chuh Fen may have reasons of his own for desiring strict privacy."
"I take you!" said Scarterfield, with a wink. "All right, doctor! If Mr. Wing can unearth Mr. Chuh Fen and that mysterious gentleman can give me a tip, I'll respect his privacy! So now—do we get at something? Do I understand that your man will help us by trying to find out some particulars of Chuh Fen, or laying hands on Chuh Fen himself? All expenses defrayed, you know," he went on, turning to Wing, "and a handsome remuneration if it leads to results. And—follow your own plans! I know you Chinamen are smart and deep at this sort of thing!"
"Leave it to him," said Lorrimore. "To him and to me. If there's news to be had of this man Chuh Fen, he'll get it."
"Then that is something done!" exclaimed Scarterfield, rubbing his hands. "Good!—I like to see even a bit of progress. But now, while I'm here, and while we're at business—and I hope this young lady doesn't find it dull business!—there's another matter. The inspector tells me there have been alarums and excursions about a certain tobacco-box which was found on Salter Quick, that Mr. Cazalette—you, sir, I think—had had various experiments in connection with it, and that the thing has been stolen. Now, I want to know all about that!—who can tell me most?"
Mr. Cazalette was sitting between Miss Raven and myself; I leaned close to him and whispered, feeling that now was the time to bring every known fact to light.
"Tell all—all—you told me just before dinner!" I urged upon him. "Table the whole pack of cards: let us get at something—now!"