Something trickled upon the brim of his hat, and,
raising his head, Kerry detected rain upon his upturned face. He
breathed a prayer of thankfulness. This would put an end to the
fog.
He began to walk along by the high brick wall, but had not
proceeded far before a muffled figure arose before him and the
light of an electric torch was shone into his face.
"Oh, it's you, Chief Inspector!" came the voice of the watcher.
"It is," rapped Kerry. "Unless there are tunnels under this old
rat-hole, I take it the men on duty can cover all the exits?"
"All the main exits," was the reply. "But, as you say, it's a
strange house, and Zani Chada has a stranger reputation."
"Do nothing until you hear from me."
"Very good, Chief Inspector."
The rain now was definitely conquering the fog, and in half the
time which had been occupied by the outward journey Kerry was
back again in Limehouse police station. Unconsciously he had
been hastening his pace with every stride, urged onward by an
unaccountable anxiety, so that finally he almost ran into the
office and up to the desk where the telephone stood.
Lifting it, he called his own number and stood tapping his foot,
impatiently awaiting the reply.
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