He opened out the bit of crumpled paper as he spoke and held it towards the other two. Ayscough stared, almost incredulously, and Melky let out a sharp exclamation.
"S'elp us!" he said. "A five-hundred-pound bank-note!"
"That's about it," remarked the exhibitor. "Bank of England note for five hundred of the best! And—a good 'un, too. Lying on the floor."
"Take care of it," said Ayscough laconically. "Well—you haven't found any papers, documents, or anything of that sort, that give any clue?"
"There's a lot of stuff there," answered the man in charge, pointing to a pile of books and papers on the table, "but it seems to be chiefly exercises and that sort of thing. I'll look through it myself, later."
"See if you can find any letters, addresses, and so on," counselled Ayscough. He turned over some of the books, all of them medical works and text-books, opening some of them at random. And suddenly he caught sight of the name which the house-surgeon had given him half-an-hour before, written on a fly-leaf: Mori Yada, 491, Gower Street—and an idea came into his mind. He bade the man in charge keep his eyes open and leave nothing unexamined, and tapping Melky's arm, led him outside. "Look here!" he said, drawing out his watch, as they crossed the hall, "it's scarcely ten o'clock, and I've got the address of that young Jap. Come on—we'll go and ask him a question or two."
So for the second time that evening, Melky, who was beginning to feel as if he were on a chase which pursued anything but a straight course, found himself in Gower Street again, and followed Ayscough along, wondering what was going to happen next, until the detective paused at the door of a tall house in the middle of the long thoroughfare and rang the bell. A smart maid answered that ring and looked dubiously at Ayscough as he proffered a request to see Mr. Mori Yada. Yes—Mr. Yada was at home, but he didn't like to see any one, of an evening when he was at his studies, and—in fact he'd given orders not to be disturbed at that time.
"I think he'll see me, all the same," said Ayscough, drawing out one of his professional cards. "Just give him that, will you, and tell him my business is very important."
He turned to Melky when the girl, still looking unwilling, had gone away upstairs, and gave him a nudge of the elbow.
"When we get up there—as we shall," whispered Ayscough, "you watch this Jap chap while I talk to him. Study his face—and see if anything surprises him."