He ISN'T
an independent agent. He's only the servant; and through the servant we
hope to find the master."
"But why in the east-end?" came the plaintive voice of Stringer;
"for only one reason, that I can see--because Max says that there's a
Chinaman in the case."
"There's opium in the case, isn't there?" said Dunbar, adding more water
to his whisky, "and where there's opium there is pretty frequently a
Chinaman."
"But to my mind," persisted Sowerby, his eyebrows drawn together in a
frown of concentration, "the place where Mrs. Vernon used to get the
opium was the place we raided in Gillingham Street."
"Nurse Proctor's!" cried Stringer, banging his fist on the table.
"Exactly my idea! There may have been a Chinaman concerned in the
management of the Gillingham Street stunt, or there may not, but I'll
swear that was where the opium was supplied. In fact I don't think that
there's any doubt about it. Medical evidence (opinions differed a bit,
certainly) went to show that she had been addicted to opium for some
years. Other evidence--you got it yourself, Inspector--went to show that
she came from Gillingham Street on the night of the murder. Gillingham
Street crowd vanished like a beautiful dream before we had time to
nab them! What more do you want? What are we up to, messing about in
Limehouse and Wapping?"
Sowerby partook of a long drink and turned his eyes upon Dunbar,
awaiting the inspector's reply.
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