The door was opened by a Chinaman wearing national dress,
revealing a small, square lobby, warmly lighted and furnished
Orientally. Kerry stepped in briskly.
"I want to see Mr. Zani Chada. Tell him I am here. Chief
Inspector Kerry is my name."
The Chinaman bowed, crossed the lobby, and, drawing some curtains
aside, walked up four carpeted stairs and disappeared into a
short passage revealed by the raising of the tapestry. As he did
so Kerry stared about him curiously.
He had never before entered the mystery house of Zani Chada, nor
had he personally encountered the Eurasian, reputed to be a
millionaire, but who chose, for some obscure reason, to make his
abode in this old rambling building, once a country mansion,
which to-day was closely invested by dockland and the narrow
alleys of Chinatown. It was curiously still in the lobby, and,
as he determined, curiously Eastern. He was conscious of a sense
of exhilaration. That Zani Chada controlled powerful influences,
he knew well. But, reviewing the precautions which he had taken,
Kerry determined that the trump card was in his possession.
The Chinese servant descended the stairs again and intimated that
the visitor should follow him.
Pages:
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101