The yellow hands of Zani Chada clutched the metal knobs which ornamented the arms of the chair in which he was seated.  The long eyes now presented the appearance of being entirely closed; otherwise he remained immovable.

Following a short, portentous silence: 

“How grossly you misunderstood me, Chief Inspector,” Chada replied, speaking very softly.  “You are shortly to be promoted to a post which no one is better fitted to occupy.  You enjoy great domestic happiness, and you possess a son in whom you repose great hopes.  In this respect Chief Inspector, I resemble you.”

Kerry’s nostrils were widely dilated, but he did not speak.

“You see,” continued the Eurasian, “I know many things about you.  Indeed, I have watched your career with interest.  Now, to be brief, a great scandal may be averted and a woman’s reputation preserved if you and I, as men of the world, can succeed in understanding one another.”

“I don’t want to understand you,” said Kerry bluntly.  “But you’ve said enough already to justify me in blowing this whistle.”  He drew a police whistle from his overcoat pocket.  “This house is being watched.”

“I am aware of the fact,” murmured Zani Chada.

“There are two people in it I want for two different reasons.  If you say much more there may be three.”

Chada raised his hand slowly.

“Put back your whistle, Chief Inspector.”

There was a curious restraint in the Eurasian’s manner which Kerry distrusted, but for which at the time he was at a loss to account.  Then suddenly he determined that the man was waiting for something, listening for some sound.  As if to confirm this reasoning, just at that moment a sound indeed broke the silence of the room.

Somewhere far away in the distance of the big house a gong was beaten three times softly.  Kerry’s fierce glance searched the face of Zani Chada, but it remained mask-like, immovable.  Yet that this had been a signal of some kind the Chief Inspector did not doubt, and: 

“You can’t trick me,” he said fiercely.  “No one can leave this house without my knowledge, and because of what happened out there in the fog my hands are untied.”

He took up his hat and cane from the chair.

“I’m going to search the premises,” he declared.

Zani Chada stood up slowly.

“Chief Inspector,” he said, “I advise you to do nothing until you have consulted your wife.”

“Consulted my wife?” snapped Kerry.  “What the devil do you mean?”

“I mean that any steps you may take now can only lead to disaster for many, and in your own case to great sorrow.”

Kerry took a step forward, two steps, then paused.  He was considering certain words which the Eurasian had spoken.  Without fearing the man in the physical sense, he was not fool enough to underestimate his potentialities for evil and his power to strike darkly.