The Island of Fu-Manchu by Sax Rohmer

Author:Sax Rohmer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Titan

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

THE CLUE OF THE RING

Police Captain Jacob Beecher was waiting beside a Police Department car not three paces from the side entrance to The Passion Fruit Tree.

“All set,” he said, as we ran out. “Where to?”

“Listen, Big Jake,” cried Flammario hoarsely, “this is my night and I give the orders.”

Even in this side-turning to which moonlight did not penetrate I could see the flash of her eyes.

“I am listening,” growled Beecher.

“This is a gentleman’s agreement and I have two gentlemen with me. You and your boys just cover us. Leave the rest to me and my friends.”

“But where in hell are we going?” growled Beecher. “Tell me and I’ll make arrangements.”

“We are going right to Santurce, and we are moving fast. Do you know the home that used to belong to Weisman, the engineer they fired from the Canal service—eh?”

“Sure I know it.”

“That is where we go.”

“It was hired to somebody else.”

“Somebody else we are looking for.”

Then, Nayland Smith and a police driver in front and I and Flammario at the back, we set out through a velvety tropical darkness sharply cut off where a brilliant moon splashed it into silver patches. Santurce, as a residential suburb, I had deliberately overlooked in my recent quest for the shop of Zazima, so that soon, leaving more familiar parts of Colon behind, I found myself upon strange ground Flammario clutched my arm, pressed her head against my shoulder and poured out a torrent of words.

“It is Paulo who finds him. Paulo can find anyone or any thing in the Canal Zone. But Paulo is of the Si-Fan. You understand—eh?”

“Yes. I expected it.”

“Although he would do anything for me, he is terrified of them. Why does he run away tonight? Where do those two thugs go? What do you think?”

“I think he gave them the information.”

“It seems that way to me.” She nestled closer. I was aware of a musky perfume. “You are right about your girl friend. He has her locked up. But give Lou time and he sets an iceberg on fire. No, please, do not be angry. I tell you. I can overlook so much—why not? But all the town knows he leave me flat—me, Flammario. Queer, eh, how a woman feels about a thing like this? Just as hard as I used to love him—I hate him now.” She slipped a bare arm about my shoulder. “You will kill him, won’t you?”

With a sincerity which was not assumed, I replied: “Given half a chance, I absolutely undertake to do so.”

Flammario’s heavily painted lips were pressed to my left ear. On the corner of a street in which there were detached villas, each surrounded by its own garden, a big black saloon car was drawn up with no lights on. We passed it and swung into a street beyond,

A moment later we too pulled up. I had now quite lost my bearings. White-fronted houses with their shuttered windows, young palms shooting slender masts out of banks of foliage, made

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