He took from one of his few remaining packages a brown-paper cigarette, lighted it. His gray-blue eyes held a faint smile as he inhaled. Down the hall beyond the room there was the slam of the elevator’s door, and footfalls. A man cleared his throat noisily. Jo Gar put his right hand in the pocket of his gray suit at his right side, went over and seated himself on the edge of the bed, facing the door. A knock sounded and the Philippine Island detective called flatly:
“Please — come in.”
The door opened. A middle-aged man entered, dressed in a dark suit with a light coat thrown across his shoulders. The sleeves of the man’s suit were not within the coat sleeves; it was worn as a cape. Raines had sharp features, pleasant blue eyes. His lips were thick; he was a big man. He said:
“Hello, Señor Gar.”
Jo Gar rose and they shook hands. Raines’ grip was loose and careless; he looked about the room, tossed a soft, gray hat on a chair. Jo Gar motioned towards the other chair in the room, and the inspector seated himself. He kept the coat slung across his shoulders.
Jo Gar said slowly, almost lazily:
“Something was found?”
The inspector frowned and shook his head. He took from his pocket a small card. His picture was at one corner of the card, which was quite soiled. There was the printing of the Customs Department, some insignia that Gar merely glanced at, a stamped seal — and the statement that Albert Raines was a member of the San Francisco customs office.
Raines said: “The chief thought I’d better show you that right away, as we hadn’t seen each other.”
The Island detective smiled. “Thank you,” he replied, and handed the card back. “Something was found?”
Raines shook his head. “Not a thing,” he said. “We held her up for two hours, and we searched everything carefully. We even searched the child — and the child’s baggage. We gave her a pretty careful questioning. For that matter — everybody on the boat got about three times the attention we usually give. And we didn’t turn up a stone.”
Jo Gar sighed. Raines said grimly: “If the diamonds were on that boat — they got past us. And that means you’re in a tough spot, yes?”
The Island detective said: “I think that is very much — what it means.”
Raines said in a more cheerful tone: “Well, the chief said you recovered six of the stones, between Manila and San Francisco — that’s not at all bad.”
Jo Gar smiled gently: “I was — extremely fortunate,” he said. “But the woman in black — I had hopes that the four diamonds—”
Raines said quickly: “So had we. When we got your coded wire telling us that you suspected her of the murder of the man you recovered five stones from, but that you couldn’t prove a thing against her, we figured we might be able to help. We weren’t. But we did as you requested — when she left the dock we had a man follow her.”
The Island detective said: “Good — she went to a hotel?”
Raines shook his head. “Don’t suppose you’ve ever been out around the Cliff House, Señor Gar. It’s a spot out on a bunch of jagged rocks, about an hour from town. A sort of amusement park has grown up around it. Seals fool around in the rocks and the tourists go for it strong. The woman took a cab, and our man took another. She went to the amusement park near the Cliff House.”
Jo Gar’s gray-blue eyes widened slightly.
“She spent more than three weeks on the Cheyo Maru,” he breathed slowly. “And when she landed and had been cleared after an exhaustive customs examination, she went to an amusement park. Strange.”
Raines made a grunting sound. “Damn’ strange,” he said. “Took all the baggage, which included a trunk we’d gone very carefully through. And the child.”
Jo Gar narrowed his eyes and looked beyond the inspector. He said quietly:
“In Manila we have an amusement park that is quite large. After entering I he main gate there are many places one can go.”
Raines nodded. “It’s like that here. Only this park has several entrances, and you can drive through a section of it. The cab went in one entrance, stopped for a while near a merry-go-round — went out another. Then it went to a house and stopped. The luggage was taken inside, and the woman and child went in. Our man stayed around a short time, but nothing else happened.”
The Island detective said: “You have the address?”
Raines nodded. He took from his pocket a small slip of paper, on which were scrawled some words, handed it to Jo Gar.
The Island detective read: “One hundred and forty-one West Pacific Avenue.”
Raines nodded. “That’s it — Cary said it was a frame house, set back a short distance from the road. The section isn’t much built up out there.”
Jo Gar nodded. “It is very good of you to bring me this information,” he stated.
Raines made a swift gesture with both hands. “That’s all right,” he said. “Cary has another job just now, or he’d have come along to tell you about it. Looks queer to me.”
The Island detective spoke slowly. “It is not necessary to drive through the amusement park, in order to reach this address?” he asked.
Raines said: “Hell, no — that’s what seems funny. That woman was trying to hide where she was going. Maybe she figured she might be followed.”
Jo Gar nodded. “I think you are right,” he said.
Raines got to his feet, held out his right hand.
“Sorry the office couldn’t get something on her at the pier,” he apologized. “But you know where she is — and you know she acted funny getting there.”
Jo Gar smiled and shook the inspector’s hand. He sat down on the bed again as Raines took his hat. When Raines reached the door, he said:
“Luck on those other four.” He grinned and went out. Going along the corridor he whistled. The elevator door slammed.
Jo Gar got to his feet with remarkable speed for him. He got his coat and hat, was out of the room quickly: He used the stairs instead of the elevator. When he reached the small lobby he saw Raines light a cigar, go outside and raise a hand. A cab pulled close to the curb. When it started away the Island detective hailed another, parked some feet from the hotel entrance. He said to the driver:
“Follow that machine, please — but do not move too close to it. When it halts, halt some distance away.”
The driver looked at Jo curiously, but nodded his head. The two cabs moved from one street to another. There was a great deal of traffic, but Jo’s driver was skillful. For perhaps ten minutes the two cabs moved through the city, apparently keeping in the heart of it. Finally the leading cab curved close to a building that had a large clock set in granite stone. It halted. Unfamiliar as Jo was with San Francisco, he recognized the building as a railroad station of considerable importance. There were many porters about, and cabs were everywhere.
As his own cab pulled close to the curb Jo watched Raines alight and pay his driver. The inspector hurried into the station, and when he was out of sight Jo paid up and left his cab. Me pulled his hat low over his eyes, straightened his small body a little, went into the station. Almost instantly he saw Raines. The man was at a luggage checking counter; as Jo watched from a safe distance he saw Raines handed two large-sized valises. A porter picked them up; Raines gestured towards another clock inside the station and said something. The porter hurried away, followed by the inspector.
Jo Gar followed, being careful not to be seen. When Raines and his porter went through a train gate, the Island detective halted near it, a peculiar smile on his face. After a few minutes the colored porter came back through the gate. Jo beckoned to him.