"Knowin' your sources of information, Mr. Holmes, 'tis surprising to me you've not already heard of it."
"Tell us all," I said, sitting alongside the desk with what I hoped was a relaxed manner.
"The Nonpareil Club was hit last night by a whole gang of Chinee. Pitchin' battle, it was, too."
"Any casualties?" queried Holmes.
"A couple of the Orientals were wounded. We've got them down at the Yard but they dinna speak a word of English or wouldna' admit to it. Several of the Baron's lads got hurt as well. That's all we know. It's possible that there were more either wounded or killed but the bodies were removed before we got there."
"This certainly sounds like a large scale affair. Can you divine a reason?"
"Not offhand, Mr. Holmes. Dowson has his finger in a number of sticky pies, we ha' known that for years. Since the passin' of Professor Moriarty he may well be the leading criminal of London. We've found it convenient to let him run his gaming house since we generally keep our eye on the place and sometimes secure valuable information. The Chinese element have numerous fan-tan houses but Dowson's clientele wouldna' patronize them so it doesna' add up as some territorial dispute."
The dour Scot, who had been gazing into the hearth fire, suddenly threw a shrewd glance at the great detective.
"I was rather hopin' you might shed some light on the matter."
"It is singular, Mr. Mac that you should come to me about the Nonpareil Club since Watson and I were there but recently."
Surprise blossomed on MacDonald's face and he quickly surpressed it.
"I had wanted to give the place a looking-at," continued Holmes, "and Watson and I left the losers. Not from the games of chance, which I suspect do not provide the player with the true gambling odds. My sword stick was missing when we departed from the premises and also Watson's army revolver, which he had left in his greatcoat pocket."
Fortunately, I was able to suppress my astonishment at this pure fabrication on the part of my friend.
"I was in hopes," continued Holmes, "that the two items would be recovered and, in the normal fashion of things, posted a letter only this morning to Lestrade reporting the missing articles."
MacDonald's lips were compressed in a firm line.
"Well, they are missin' no longer, sir. A cane sword was found on the stairs of an adjacent warehouse, stained with blood. And a Smith-Webley army issue was found at the head of the same stairs with all chambers fired. I might add that there was blood in the vicinity but no bodies were found. Some bits of clothing indicate that the victims were Oriental, as were the attackers of the Nonpareil Club."
Holmes did not carry his pretense of innocence too far. He had a hearty respect for the acumen of the Aberdeenian.
"It would seem that the attackers were familiar with the history of the club and the fact that numerous hidden exits exist from it. Some, if memory serves me well, involving the adjacent warehouse."
MacDonald knew when he was licked. "Well, Mr. Holmes, I'll see that the articles are returned to you. I'm disappointed, for a fact, since had you been on the premises during the fracas, you might have provided us with a key to the affair. We're baffled."
"Perhaps I can uncover something," said Holmes. "I gather that this battle was not an attempt by one criminal group to demoralize or displace another. It seems reasonable to assume that Dowson had something that the Oriental group was after."
The police inspector nodded.
"Have you any idea what this might be?" continued Holmes.
"No, sir. There's been no big robbery on the docks, or anywhere else, that I can associate with this."
"Then let me take another approach. Who, in your opinion, Mr. Mac, would have had the organization, the manpower, to attack the Nonpareil Culb?"
"Assuming it is an Oriental, and that seems indicated, it could only be one man."
It was Holmes's turn to nod. "Chu San Fu."
"Aye," agreed MacDonald. "That tiger can wave one of his fingers and there's a hundred to do his biddin'."
"I have heard," said Holmes, slowly, "that Chu is not as active as he once was."
" 'Tis an impression he's most anxious to. create. I can recall times when he was crossed and there were bodies for sure and no doubt as to how they met their end. Warnings of his power."
I could contain myself no longer. "Good heavens, who is this Oriental monster that you both discuss so calmly and how is it that I have never heard of him? Chu San Fu, indeed."
Holmes's eyes were on the fire and his voice had a dreamy quality. "The Chinese are an inscrutable and unobtrusive race, my dear Watson, completely devoted to the customs of their homeland. Their entire strata of society is a secret closely guarded. They remain completely enclosed and while we see them, know they exist, we really know little about them."
MacDonald was nodding and chose to add to Holmes's words. "For years, Chu has been the power in the Chinese community. All the opium dens, the gambling houses, the drug traffic, have been under his thumb. He also runs a sizeable import-export business that is legitimate, as far as we know. Of late, he's gone underground, as far as his illegal activities are concerned. Oh, he still wields the power of life and death, but his enemies just disappear now. Into the waters of the Thames estuary, nae doot."
Holmes's dreamy thoughtfulness had disappeared. He was regarding the Scot intently.
"Do you have some theory regarding his change of modus operandi?"
MacDonald nodded. "I also have a fear of a gang war and an intense int'rest in last night's battle at the Nonpareil Club."
Holmes rose and knocked the dottle out of his pipe and into the fire. "Could it be that you are suggesting a trade, Mr. Mac?"
The Scot didn't hesitate. "That's exactly what I'm doin'."
"You may be the loser. I've not much to tell and your sources in the Chinese quarter are undoubtedly superior to mine."
"I'll take me chances."
"Very well." Holmes's fingers reached into the Persian slipper for more shag. "I think that Dowson was hired to secure an ancient objet d'art and Chu wants it."
The Scotland Yard inspector digested this. "Would this object be of great value?"
"Not of the type you're thinking of. It's no Mona Lisa, or even close to it."
"Very strange, Mr. Holmes. But your theory is provocative since Chu San Fu has one of the largest collections of Oriental art in the wurld."
I have seldom seen Holmes register surprise, but he did now. "Does he indeed? But the object I have in mind is not Oriental."
"Hmmm. Well, there's no tellin' what else Chu has in his treasure chest. 'Tis me feelin' that collectors are a breed apart."
"A very sage observation, Mr. Mac," said Holmes.
"I've a wee bit more for ye, but tell me, if Dowson had this object and Chu was after it, who has it now?"
"That I don't know," said Holmes, with regret.
"But ye'll certainly be tryin' to find out?" MacDonald was answered by a quick affirmative nod from Holmes.
"Well, sir, herre's a bit of social news that int'rests our lads in the Limehouse squad: Maurice Rothfils, related to the famous international bankers, is to be married come spring."
"I've heard of that," I said, glad to have a hand in the conversation. "It's something of a nine-day sensation in Mayfair since his bride-to-be is a Chinese princess."
"Aye, Doctor," said MacDonald. "Now Rothfils just may have a title by the tune he's married and there could be a presentation at court involvin' his wife. So the special branch has been quite concerned. For there's a whisper that this Chinese princess is the daughter of Chu San Fu."