The only work he did that night was to call briefly on
Donald Washburn and ask to see his jade collection. Once more he was politely received; he viewed a display of about twenty pieces of varying quality from good to superb and expressed his appreciation of them.
"Not all of them are what they should be," Washburn told him. "When I started out collecting I didn't know too much about jade and consequently I got stuck a few times. Not badly, but a few of my pieces are imitation, I know that now. Someday I'm going to clean them all out and have nothing but real jade and fine carvings. Francis Wang was going to help me with that, but of course he can't now."
"Is your son back yet?" Tibbs asked.
"Yes, he is, and we're most happy about it, of course. He's out right now, looking up some of his friends-not the wrong ones, I assure you."
Virgil turned to go. "Thank you very much for your time. I don't want to intrude on you any more than is necessary."
"You're quite welcome anytime, professionally or socially. If you want to talk to Robin for any reason, I'll set it up for you."
*That's very kind. I don't have any need at present, but I may want to talk to you again later."
"Fine, just let me know."
With that out of the way Tibbs went back to his apartment, kicked off his shoes, and stretched out with a drink. He lay full length on his davenport, his glass in his hand, and thought about Yumeko. She had a certain spunk that he admired very much, even though he felt that she was oversensitive about her heritage and mixed bloodstream. It was a sign of the future, her origin that was, a forecast of the day when people simply would be people.
He refilled his glass, and then settled down to study once more. He picked up the Chinese Jade Throughout the Ages and returned to his perusal of the Han Dynasty.
When he had been at that more than an hour his attention began to flag; it was heavy reading and he had had a tiring day. Rather than give up he began to turn the pages, looking at the color plates of some of the world's most distinguished jades and comparing them in his mind with those he had seen at the Wang house and in the several private collections he had already viewed. He remembered the variety of colors, the many different types of carvings, and the almost inhuman ingenuity that had been used in working some of the rare stones.
Then, at that moment, he saw it. He stopped with a 106
breath half drawn and then involuntarily opened his mouth as the pieces he had gathered, abruptly and without warning, fitted themselves together. He had worked some things out by a process of hard thought, but the big one had been in front of him all the time and he had not seen it. He had been stupid, stupid and blind as a bat! His telephone was right beside him: he picked it up and called the department
"This is Virgil," he said. "There's been a development. I don't want to go into it now, but I want an immediate watch put over the Wang house-front and rear. Set up a stakeout and keep it on. Do you have the address?"
"Right, Virg," came back from the night desk man. *'How soon do you expect action?"
"Anytime, we may have missed it already. I don't think so, but set it up as quickly as you can."
"Will do. What are the boys to look for?"
"Any and all comings and goings. Let the girl who lives there go out and in undisturbed. Also there's a houseboy-a Chinese about twenty-five or so; if he shows, all right, but let me know immediately. I'm at home. Anybody else, anybody at all, call me right away."
"Anything else, Virg?"
"Yes-don't intercept any normal traffic in or out of the house, but don't let anyone carry anything out, no package no matter how small. If anyone attempts that, stop them and use any excuse until I can get there."
"What have you got, Virg?"
"As soon as I can prove it," Tibbs answered, *T\q got myself a murderer."
CHAPTER 12
For much of the night Tibbs tossed and turned. He was entirely confident that the watch over the Wang house was in eflect and would take care of any sudden contingencies, but the sharp images that were in his mind would not relent and let him get any sleep. He contemplated taking a phenobar-bital, but rejected the idea because he might have need to be acutely alert at any time and he could not risk it. Remembering what he had learned in the Aikido dojo, he tried consciously to relax his tensions and let his thoughts compose themselves, but when he began to feel that he was ma k ing some progress, his pillow conspired to become hot and lumpy and the bedclothes trapped his legs in their folds.
He got up even earUer than usual and made himself some strong black coffee. He followed it with orange juice and felt a twinge of acid stomach as a result. He shook a small amount of baking soda into a glass, added water, and drank it down. Then, unable to restrain himself any longer, he called in and asked what had happened during the night.
Everything had been quiet at the Wang house; the stakeout had been in full effect, but the report was entirely negative. Business had been dull.
He looked at the clock and wondered if it was too early to call Yumeko. He had no idea when she got up to go to work, but she was employed in Little Tokyo and would have to allow at least forty-five minutes' travel time to get into Central Los Angeles. Assuming that she started at nine, she would have to be up at least by seven-thirty. He waited an impatient twenty minutes and then dialed the number.
He felt a hot flush of gratitude when her voice came on the line; it gave some evidence of interrupted sleep, but there was no petulance in it. "What time do you leave for work?" he asked. 108
"It does not make any work today, Virgil, because it is Saturday." He had completely lost track of the days of the week. "Are you going to be home today?"
"If it is your wish, I will be here. For a little while I would like to go to the store. When do you desire to come?" Tibbs forced himself to be patient and rational. "How about nine-thirty, would that be all right?" "I will make some tea," Yumeko volunteered. Tea again! He didn't especially care for it, but apparently there was no avoiding it Not where Orientals were concerned, at any rate.
*That will be nice," he said, trying to sound as if he meant it. Then he had another thought. "Yumeko, you remember the two men who came to see you, the policemen you were worried about?"
He sensed her tightening over the wire. He got a hesitant, "Yes."
"After I talk to you, I may ask them to stop by-so that they won't bother you anymore. I will be there to look after you."
"If you say it is good, then it will be all right with me. I am a little frightened of them." "I think I can end all that"
*Then please to ask them to come. They will drink tea?" Despite himself Virgil grinned a httle with satisfaction. "Fm sure they'd like it very much," he lied cheerfully. "Do you have some nice Japanese green tea?"
*'Ocha? But yes, I did not know that you liked it Most Americans, they cannot."
"I'll see you at nine-thirty," Tibbs said and then hung up before things went any farther. Feeling a httle better for no real reason that he could trace, he poured some cornflakes into a bowl, covered them with a Uberal amount of low-fat milk, and sifted on some sugar. He ate reflectively and planned what he was going to say to the Feds concerning his "discovery," and what they would be likely to say to him if it proved to be a completely wrong assumption. He planned his hedge carefully and then left for his of amp;ce.
For a wonder the paper work load was not quite as staggering as usual. He disposed of a few things and talked with Agent Jerry Gamer, who had been on the stakeout during the graveyard hours. Nothing whatever had happened. That in a way was good news since it suggested if he was right in his assumptions, then he had so far not missed the boat.