“Don’t talk!” shouted Kerry. “Fetch her!”
Sin Sin Wa turned his hands palms upward.
“Me no hate gotchee wifee,” he murmured.
Kerry took one pace forward.
“Fetch her,” he said; “or—” He drew a pair of handcuffs from the pocket of his oilskin.
“Velly bad luck,” murmured Sin Sin Wa. “Catchee trouble for wifee no got.”
He extended his wrists, meeting the angry glare of the Chief Inspector with a smile of resignation. Kerry bit savagely at his chewing-gum, glancing aside at Bryce.
“Did you ever see his wife?” he snapped.
“No, sir. I didn’t know he had one.”
“No habgotchee,” murmured Sin Sin Wa, “velly bad woman.”