'Don't you know when I'm pulling your leg?' I asked. 'I'd put my last shilling on your being here, job or no job, until the end of this thing is clearly in sight! '
'Oh!' said Weymouth, his naive smile softening the hard mask which had fallen when I had suggested his retiring to Cairo. 'Well, I don't think you'd lose your money.'
But when he had gone, I took his place at the window and stared down on the panorama of Piccadilly. I was thinking of Nayland Smith.... 'He stands between her and all she aims for.'... How true that was!
Yes, he held most of the strings. Fah Lo Suee had started with a heavy handicap. Ibrahim Bey occupied a prison cell in Brixton Prison. He would be tried and duly sentenced for attempted robbery with violence. The public would never leam the whole truth. But Ibrahim Bey might be counted out of the running. The Egyptian authorities, working in concert with the French in Syria, were looking for Sheikh Ismail; and the Mandarin Ki Ming would have to hide very cleverly to escape the vigilance of those who had been advised of his aims....
My phone bell rang. I turned and took up the receiver.
'Yes? '
'Is Mr. Shan Greville there? '
'Speaking.'
The voice--that of a man who spoke perfect English but who was not an Englishman--sounded tauntingly familiar.
'My name will be known to you, I believe, Mr. Greville. I am called Dr. Amber.'
Dr. Amber! The mysterious physician whose treatment had restored Sir Lionel-- whom I had to thank for my own recovery! 'Owing to peculiar circumstances, which I hope to explain to you, I have hitherto been able to help only in a rather irregular way,' he went on. 'Because of this--and of the imminent danger to which I am exposed--I must make a somewhat odd request.' 'What is it? '
'It is this: All I have to tell you is at your disposal. But you must promise to treat myself as non-existent. I have approached you in this way because the life of Sir Denis Nayland Smith is threatened--to-night! My record backs my assurance that this is a friendly overture. Have I your promise? '
'Yes--certainly! '
'Good. It will be a short journey, Mr. Greville--not three minutes' walk. I am staying at Babylon House, Piccadilly; Flat Number 7. May I ask you to step across? You have ample time before dinner.' 'I'll come right away.'
Dr. Amber! Who was Dr. Amber? Where did he fit into this intricate puzzle which had sidetracked so many lives? Whoever he might be, he had shown himself a friend, and without hesitation, but fired by an intense curiosity, I set out for Babylon House--a block of service flats nearly opposite Burlington Arcade.
A lift-man took me to the top floor and indicated a door on the right.. I stepped up to it and rang the bell.
The elevator was already descending before the door opened... and I saw before me the Chinese physician who had attended me in that green and gold room in Lime-house! Fear--incredulity--anger all must have been readable in my expression, when:
'You gave me your promise, Mr. Greville,' said the China man, smiling. 'I give you mine, if it is necessary, that you are safe and with a friend. Please come in.'
2
The typical and scanty appointments of the apartment into which I was shown possessed a reassuring quality. From a high window with a narrow balcony I could see the entrance to Burlington Arcade and part of one wall of the Albany.
'Won't you sit down?' said my host, who wore morning dress and looked less charac- teristically Chinese than he had looked in white overalls.
I sat down.
A small writing-desk set before the window was littered with torn documents, and a longer table in the centre of the room bore stacks of newspapers. I saw the London Evening News, the Times of India, and the Chicago Tribune amongst this odd assort- ment. Certain paragraphs appeared to have been cut out with scissors. The floor was littered with oddments. I noticed other defi- nite evidences of a speedy outgoing. A very large steamer trunk bearing the initials L. K. S. in white letters stood strapped in a corner of the room.
'It is my purpose, Mr. Greville,' said Dr. Amber, taking a seat near the desk and catching me steadily, 'to explain certain matters which have been puzzling yourself and your friends. And perhaps in the first place, since I wish to be perfectly frank'--he glanced toward the big trunk--'I should tell you that 'Dr Amber' is a pseudonym. I am called Li King Su; I hold a medical degree of Canton; and I once had the pleasure of assisting Dr. Petrie in a very critical major operation. He will probably remember me.
'You are quite naturally labouring under the impression that I belong to the organisation controlled by the Lady Fah Lo Suee. This is not so. I belong to another, older, organisation....'
He stared at me intently. But I didn't interrupt him. I was considering that curious expression--'the Lady Fah Lo Suee. '
'I was--shall we say?--a spy in the house in which you first met me. The lady called Fah Lo Suee has now discovered the imposture, and--'
Again he paused, indicating the steamer trunk. 'My usefulness is ended. I am a marked man, Mr. Greville. If I escape alive I shall be lucky. But let us talk of something else.... The Tomb of the Black Ape has proved something of a puzzle to Sir Denis Nayland Smith. The solution is simple:
A representative of that older organisation to which I have referred was present when Lafleur opened the place many years ago. By arrangement with that distinguished Egyptol- ogist, it was reclosed. Later--in fact, early in 1918--a prominent official of our ancient society, passing through Egypt, had reason to suspect that certain treasures in his possession might be discovered and detained by the British Authorities--for these were troubled times. He proceeded up the Nile and success- fully concealed them in this tomb--the secret of which had been preserved with just such an end in view....'
I suppose I must have known all along; but for some reason at this moment the iden- tity of 'a representative of that older organi- sation' and 'a prominent official of our ancient society' suddenly burst upon me with all the shock of novelty; and, meeting the glance of those inscrutable eyes which watched me so intently:
'You are speaking of Dr. Fu Manchu!' I said. Li King Su permitted himself a slight deprecatory gesture. 'It is desirable,' he replied, 'that those of whom I speak should remain anonymous!'
But I continued to stare at him with a sort of horror. 'By arrangement with that distin- guished Egyptologist,' he had said smoothly.
Good God! What kind of 'arrangement'! 'It was the intention of the hider,' he went on, 'that those potent secrets should remain concealed for ever. The activities of Professor Zeitland and Sir Lionel Barton created an unforeseen situation. It was complicated by the action of the Lady Fah Lo Suee. She had recently learned what was hidden there, but she was ignorant of how to recover it.... Professor Zeitland imparted his knowledge to her--then came Sir Lionel Barton....'
He paused again, significantly.
'We moved too late, Mr. Greville. An old schism in our ranks had made an enemy of one of the most brilliant and dangerous men in China--the exalted Mandarin Ki Ming. He gave the Lady Fah Lo Suee his aid. But we wasted no more time. I succeeded in gaining admittance to their councils. It was by means of their organisation that I intercepted Dr. Petrie's telegram to Sir Brian Hawkins. You know the use which I made of my knowledge.
'Your present English Government is blind. You will lose Egypt as you have lost India. A great federation of Eastern States affiliated with Russia--a new Russia--is destined to take the place once held by the British Empire. You have one chance to recover....'
The man's personality was beginning to get me. I had forgotten that I sat, inert, listening to a self-confessed servant of Dr. Fu Manchu: I only knew that he was raising veils beyond which I longed to peer.
'What is it?' I asked.
And, as I spoke a chill--not figurative but literal--turned me cold. I had detected Li King Su in the act of glancing toward a partially opened door which led to the bedroom....
Definitely someone was listening!
As if conscious of the fact that he had betrayed himself, 'Dr. Amber' went on immediately:
'A counter alliance! But we are getting out of our depth, Mr. Greville. To return to more personal matters:
