“You are startled! Matsukata alone knew the secret, which now you share. Every one of the Cold Men has died, or has been put to death, and from the cold ashes I have re-created the flame of life. None, save Singu, has ever been buried as dead. For a man once dead cannot die a second time!”
General Huan’s mask-like features relaxed into an expression which almost resembled one of fear.
“I am appalled. Master. Forgive my ignorance—but Matsukata reported that Singu died of a broken neck.”
Dr. Fu Manchu laughed harshly. “He reported that Singu had suffered a dislocation of the anterior ligament as the result of a fall on his head. There were other injuries to the skull which may indicate the cause of this fall. The ligament I can repair; the other injury also.”
“But—”
“But if I cannot restore Singu to life long years of research will have led me to a hollow fallacy. I believed the Cold Men to be indestructible except by total disintegration.”
There was a faint sound, and Fu Manchu turned a switch. The voice of the Japanese physician, Matsukata, came faintly:
“I have the body in the clinic. Master.”
“Do nothing until I join you.”
Dr. Fu Manchu stood up. “Would you care to witness one of the most important experiments I have ever carried out, Tsung-Chao?”
“Thank you, no,” the old soldier replied. “I fear no living man; but dead men who walk again turn my old blood to water . . .
Chapter XVI
Tony stared out of a window into one of the busiest streets of Chia-Ting. This was part of the city he had never previously visited. His knowledge of Chia-Ting was confined to the waterfront and the jail. Accompanied by the old Lama, whose credentials were above suspicion, they had made the thirty-odd miles journey without incident, as members of his family bound for Chengtu.
Nayland Smith and Tony had adopted the dress of members of the professional class, and Moon Flower was a girl again—Sir Denis’s daughter. The house in Chia-Ting belonged to a cousin of the Lama, a prosperous physician and a fervent anti-Communist.
But, this evening. Tony was worried.
Nayland Smith and his “daughter” had traced, at last, the house in which Shun-Hi, former servant of Dr. Cameron-Gordon (now employed in the summer villa of the governor of the province) was living. Moon Flower’s memory of its location was rather hazy. They had gone to interview Shun-Hi.
And, although dusk was near, they had not returned.
Sir Denis had insisted that, until the time for action came. Tony must not show himself unnecessarily in Chia-Ting. Too many people knew him, and the reward for his arrest would stimulate recognition. But he suffered agonies whenever Moon Flower was out on the search.
He still had little more than a vague idea of Nayland Smith’s plan. That the girl, Shun-Hi, was a link with Moon Flower’s father he saw clearly. But, regarding his release from Dr. Fu Manchu, he saw no prospect whatever. Only his faith in the chief who had employed him shone like a guiding star. If anyone could do it, Nayland Smith was the man.
Just before suspense became unendurable. Tony saw Moon Flower and Sir Denis making for the door below. They had a girl with them whom he guessed to be Shun-Hi, and a few moments later all three came into the room.
Nayland Smith looked elated. “Our luck holds, McKay! Here’s a useful recruit. Sit down, Shun-Hi. We have a lot to talk about.”
Shun-Hi, a good-looking working-class girl, smiled happily at Moon Flower and sat down. Moon Flower sat beside her, an encouraging arm thrown around Shun-Hi’s shoulders, as Nayland Smith began to fill his pipe.
“Is your father well, Yueh-Hua?” Tony asked.
Moon Flower nodded. “Yes—but very unhappy.”
“Shun-Hi,” Sir Denis explained, “speaks remarkably good English. So now, Shun-Hi, I want to ask you some questions. Your old employer, the doctor, you tell me, works in a laboratory in the garden but sleeps in the house. How large is this laboratory?”
“It is—” Sun-Hi hesitated—”like four of mis room in a row—so.” She extended her hands.
“Along, low building. I see. And where’s the door?”
“One at each end. From the door at the far end there is a path to a gate. But the gate is always locked.”
“And inside?”
“No one is allowed inside. Sometimes, I carry a tray down for the doctor. His lunch. But I put it on the ledge of a window and he takes it in. This was how I got Miss Yueh-Hua’s message to him and got his reply back.”
“Does he work alone there?”
“Yes. Except when a Japanese from the hospital comes, or when The Master is here. The Master spends many hours inside this place.”
“And when the window is opened, what can you see?”
“Only a very small room, with a table and some chairs.”
“Does Dr. Cameron-Gordon work there late?”
“I don’t know. He is always there when I leave in the evening.”
“Does he never go outside the walls?”
“No.”
“When he leaves the laboratory, what is to prevent him walking out by one of the gates?”
“They are always locked, except when visitors come. Then, a gate porter opens them. There is a small door in the wall, used by the staff. It is opened for us when we arrive and again when we leave.”
Moon Flower smiled. “That was the door, Shun-Hi, I watched until I saw you come out one evening. Do you remember?”
Shun-Hi turned her head and affectionately kissed the hand resting on her shoulder.
“Is Huan Tsung-Chao a good master?” Nayland Smith asked.
“Yes. He is kind to us all.”
“But you would rather be with Dr. Cameron-Gordon again?”
“Oh,yes!”
“And The Master—do you have much to do with him when he is there?”
“No!” Shun-Hi spoke shudderingly. “I should be afraid to go near him!”
Nayland Smith had not lighted his pipe. He did so now; and as smoke rose from the bowclass="underline"
“Tell me, Shun-Hi,” he rapped, “is any watch kept in the gardens at night?”
“I don’t know. I am never there at night. But I don’t think so. It is just a summer house where his Excellency comes for a rest.”
Nayland Smith nodded. “Do you take a tray to Dr. Cameron-Gordon every day?”
“Oh, no. Some days one of the other girls is sent.”
“And does the same girl bring it back?”
“As a rule, yes. The doctor leaves it on the ledge. But, the day I gave him the message, he waited until I came to return the tray and give me the reply.”
Nayland Smith pulled at the lobe of his ear, thoughtfully. “So that if we gave you another message for Dr. Cameron-Gordon, it might be several days before you could deliver it?”
“Yes.”
“H’m! That complicates matters.”
Tony, who had listened to every word, broke in: “It only means, Sir Denis, a few days more delay.”
“Perhaps. But Fu Manchu is merely a bird of passage in Szechuan. He may move on at any time. I haven’t an idea in what way he’s employing Cameron-Gordon’s special knowledge. But as it’s obviously of some value to Fu Manchu, when one goes the other goes with him!”
Moon Flower’s eyes opened widely. “Oh, I couldn’t bear it! We are so near to him—and yet!”
“We have to face facts, Jeanie,” Sir Denis said. “Even if we’re given our chance, it may not come off. But I have a strong conviction that if we make no mistakes it will.”
* * *
At a glass-topped table a man whose iron-grey hair, fresh complexion and a close-trimmed grey mustache lent him something of the look of a Scottish sergeant major bent over a powerful microscope. He wore the white linen jacket which is the scientist’s field uniform. Whatever he was studying absorbed all his attention.