"
He stood for a while waiting, receiver in hand, and smiled grimly
to note that the uproar in the room beyond had been resumed.
Evidently Malay Jack had given the "all clear" signal. Then:
"Chief Inspector Kerry speaking," he said again. "Has Detective
Sergeant Durham reported?"
"Yes," was the reply, "half an hour ago. He's standing-by at
Limehouse Station. He followed you in a taxi, but lost you on
the way owing to the fog."
"I don't wonder," said Kerry. "His loss is not so great as mine.
Anything else?"
"Nothing else."
"Good. I'll speak to Limehouse. Good-bye."
He replaced the receiver and paused for a moment, reflecting.
Extracting a piece of tasteless gum from between his teeth, he
deposited it in the grate, where a sickly fire burned; then,
tearing the wrapper from a fresh slip, he resumed his chewing and
stood looking about him with unseeing eyes. Fierce they were as
ever, but introspective in expression.
Famous for his swift decisions, for once in a way he found
himself in doubt. Malay Jack had keen ears, and there were those
in the place who had every reason to be interested in the
movements of a member of the Criminal Investigation Department,
especially of one who had earned the right to be dreaded by the
rats of Limehouse.
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