"I'm for that," Virgil said, "and because I am, I want you to do something for me. How many boxes do you suspect contained the forbidden drug?'*
"Perhaps one half."
"In weight?"
"As much as four hundred pounds."
"As a heroin substitute on the street, then, it could worth as much as six million dollars."
"More, much more. And it is not a substitute, Mr. Tibbs, it is a replacement. A replacement that would be almost entirely controlled from one source."
"Here is what I want you to do," Tibbs said. "Find several boxes of different sizes that do not contain the drug — can you do that?'*
"Of course."
"Since the boxes all look the same from the outside, is it true that the only way to identify them is by the individual jade each is built to contain?"
"That is correct."
"If for any reason a jade goes out of this house, you win put it into its box."
Chin Soo bowed again. "I understand. There will be no problem; such a mistake will be easy to make."
"Good. Where is Yumeko, by the way?"
"She is resting, preparing herself for this evening."
"One more thing: how well do you know the value of the pieces in the collection?"
"I know the value and also the price that Mr. Wang would have asked."
*Then that takes care of everything. I will be back before seven tonight; I suggest that you eat very early."
"Excuse me, Mr. Tibbs, but we were expecting that you would join us."
Virgil shook his head. "I still have some things to do. Watch yourself in the meantime."
Chin Soo led him back to the door. "Do not concern yourself about that," he said as he uhered Tibbs out.
During the short drive back to headquarters the police radio chattered with minor dispatches. An abandoned car was checked out for the name of the owner. A citizen assist call for a pohce officer turned out to be a request for help in moving a heavy refrigerator. A suspicious person reported lurking in the vicinity of an apartment building was found to be a completely legitimate florist's deliveryman. And so it went, the endless parade of details in the life and operation of a modem city. People called the police for everything- once for a suitable escort to take a roommate to a party. Anything and everything came over the police radio. Floyd Sanderson had been on patrol one night when he had been dispatched to investigate "a male Oriental eating the grass." He had arrived to find the call quite genuine, a male Oriental was eating the grass. Like the members of every community represented in the city, a few Orientals had mental disturbances and this had been one of them. Sanderson had helped the man, turned him over to the proper medical authorities, and then had gone back on patrol. A hundred or more miles every night, cruising endlessly up and down the streets, in order to meet and deal with whatever unusual circumstances might arise-from a drunk asleep on the sidewalk to a fleeing murderer armed and volcanically dangerous.
For what he hoped would be the last time that day Tibbs walked into his office and found Bob there. "All set for tonight?" the Nisei detective asked.
Virgil sat for a moment on the edge of his desk. "It looks good. One thing I want you to do: not too soon, but when things are weU along, I want you to ask if you can come back tomorrow night to examine the jade collection. Remember that you have not yet seen it, you know of it only by reputation. A casual look around won't do-you want to make a detailed study."
"Sounds logical."
"I hope so. Don't overplay it; there'll be some bright people there."
"I won't. Lieutenant Olsen wants to know if you still need the stakeout at the Wang house."
"Hell yes, I'm depending on it."
"OK, I'll pass the word. Next: are we likely to be bringing in a prisoner tonight?"
"I doubt it."
"Since you're getting everyone together, I thought you were going to spring your case."
"Not yet I know what I'm after, but I don't have the proof-and that's the most vital part."
"What's the plan?"
Once more Tibbs took off his coat before he sat down. "I'm goiug to try and do it an easier way," he said. "This whole deal is set up for one reason-to make the guilty person panic a little. If I can pull that off and force one more piece of action, then I've got it."
"What kind of action?"
"You'll know," Virgil promised.
CHAPTER 14
At a few minutes before seven Virgil Tibbs parked his car a little more than a block away from the Wang home, locked it, and then continued on foot. As he walked up the quiet street there was no visible indication of the stakeout which was still in operation; at least none which an unsuspecting layman would be likely to notice. He had already passed certain instructions to Agent Jerry Gamer, who was heading the crew, and knew that they would be followed explicitly. With his preparations as close to complete as he could make them, he turned in at the driveway, mounted the steps, and rang the front doorbell.
Chin Soo admitted him almost at once. The young Chinese houseboy was dressed in dark slacks and a lightweight black sweater which emphasized the lean strength of his body. Tibbs glanced at his feet and noted the slip-on shoes which, if necessary, could be shed within a second or two. He was not familiar with the techniques of Gang Fu, but the years of rigorous training which he himself had undergone had taught him a great deal-including the fact that the bare feet of a karate man are among his most lethal weapons. Chin Soo's costume, he judged, had been chosen for action, even though it did not loudly proclaim that fact.
"Good evening, sir," Chin said. "I am very glad that you have arrived."
"Thank you."
"The jade boxes have been arranged as you asked," he continued. "I have not had time to determine which of the others.. "
He stopped when Yumeko appeared, very simply dressed in blouse and skirt. "Good evening, Virgil," she said. "I have not yet made myself ready because first I ask you what you wish I wear."
"That's up to you," Tibbs answered. "Ifs not a party, if that's what you mean." He turned to face her squarely. "I want you to do something: stay out of this part of the house. And keep out of sight. If the doorbell rings, don't come, we'll answer it."
She looked at him very steadily. "You are expecting people to come with trouble."
"Possibly," he admitted, "but nothing we can't handle." He looked at her, as he had several times before, accustoming himself to the combination of Japanese features and Negro complexion. He was not disturbed by it, but he found himself thinking of her as entirely a Japanese, then in the next moment as a Negro girl who had grown up in a foreign country. There was a delicacy to her features that was definitely Oriental, and her eyes, of course, had smooth upper lids. But she was dark enough to pass almost anywhere as a Negro; only her face reaUy betrayed the fact that she had had any other origin.
If the Japanese won out in his mind, it was because of her name and the fact that to her, English was a difficult foreign language. If she had been called Nancy or something like that, and had spoken with the same fluency that he did, it could easily have gone the other way.
"Now," he said, "it may be that someone tonight will want to come and see you tomorrow evening; in fact I'll try to arrange that. Yumeko, I want you to say that you are very sorry, but that you will not be at home; you and Chin Soo are going into Los Angeles to the Buddhist temple to keep a prayer vigil for Mr. Wang."
"There are Buddhist temples here," Soo said.
"Don't bring that up. There are different kinds of temples, I know that; they will assume that you want to visit a certain one. It doesn't matter whether you're Buddhist or not, they'll beheve you."
"Mr. Wang was," Chin said, "so it is very logical that we would go to his church to pray for him."