We can do these things in Paris so much more
easily than is possible here in London." He illustrated, delivering
a kick upon the person of an imaginary malefactor. "Cochon! Va!" he
shrugged. "It is finished!
"The place was arranged with Oriental magnificence. The
reception-room--if I can so term that apartment--was like the scene of
Rimsky Korsakov's Sheherezade; I could see that very heavy charges
were made at this establishment. I will not bore you with further
particulars, but I will tell you of my disappointment."
"Your disappointment?"
"Yes, I was disappointed. True, I had brought about the closing of that
house, but of the huge sums of money fraudulently obtained from victims,
I could find no trace in the accounts of Madame Jean. She defied me
with silence, simply declining to give any account of herself beyond
admitting that she conducted an hotel at which opium might be smoked if
desired. Blagueur! Sen, the Chinaman, who professed to speak nothing but
Chinese--ah! cochon!--was equally a difficult case, Nom d'un nom! I was
in despair, for apart from frauds connected with the concern, I had
more than small suspicions that at least one death--that of a wealthy
banker--could be laid at the doors of the establishment in Rue St.
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