“Yes sir,’ he asserted,‘that’s the gentleman who came in at halfpast ten and asked for Mr. Wu Ling, and afterwards went out with him.’
‘The aflPair was progressing. Our next move was to interview Mr. Charles Lester. He met us with the utmost frankness, was desolated to hear of the Chinaman s untimely death, and put himself at our disposal in every way. His story was as follows： By arrangement with Wu Ling, he called for him at the hotel at ten-thirty. Wu Ling, however, did not appear. Instead, his servant came, explained that his master had had to go out, and offered to conduct the young man to where his master now was. Suspecting nothing, Lester agreed, and the Chinaman procured a taxi. They drove for some time in the direction of the docks. Suddenly becoming mistrustful, Lester stopped the taxi and got out, disregarding the servant s protests. That, he assured us, was all he knew.
“Apparently satisfied, we thanked him and took our leave. His story was soon proved to be a somewhat inaccurate one. To begin with, Wu Ling had had no servant with him, either on the boat or at the hotel. In the second place, the taxi driver who had drI haven the two men on that morning came forward. Far from Lester s having left the taxi en route, he and the Chinese gentleman had drI haven to a certain unsavory dwelling place in Limehouse, right in the heart of Chinatown. The place in question was more or less well known as an opium den of the lowest description. The two gentlemen had gone in—about an hour later the English gentleman, whom he identified from the photograph, came out alone. He looked very pale and ill, and directed the taximan to take him to the nearest underground station.
“Inquiries were made about Charles Lester’s standing, and it was found that, though bearing an excellent character, he was heavily in debt, and had a secret passion for gambling. Dyer, of course, was not lost sight of. It seemed just faintly possible that he might have impersonated the other man, but that idea was proved utterly groundless. His alibi for the whole of the day in question was absolutely unimpeachable. Of course, the proprietor of the opium den denied everything with Oriental stolidity. He had never seen Wu Ling； he had never seen Charles Lester. No two gentlemen had been to the place that morning. In any case, the police were wrong； no opium was ever smoked there.
“His denials, however well meant, did little to help Charles Lester. He was arrested for the murder of Wu Ling. A search of his effects was made, but no papers relating to the mine were discovered. The proprietor of the opium den was also taken into custody, but a cursory raid of his premises yielded nothing. Not even a stick of opium rewarded the zeal of the police.
“In the meantime my friend Mr. Pearson was in a great state of agitation. He strode up and down my room, uttering great lamentations.
4But you must have some ideas, M. Poirot!’ he kept urging. 'Surely you must have some ideas?’
“Certainly I have ideas/ I replied cautiously. That is the trouble一 one has too many; therefore they all lead in different directions.'
"For instance?’ he suggested.
‘For instance—the taxi driver. We have only his word for it that he drove the two men to that house. That is one idea. Then—was it really that house they went to? Supposing that they left the taxi there, passed through the house and out by another entrance and went elsewhere?’
“Mr. Pearson seemed struck by that’
“ ‘But you do nothing but sit and think? Can't we do something?’
“He was of an impatient temperament, you comprehend.
“ ‘Monsieur, I said with dignity, .it is not for Hercule Poirot to run up and down the evil-smelling streets of Limehouse like a little dog of no breeding. Be calm. My agents are at work’
“On the following day I had news for him. The two men had indeed passed through the house in question, but their real objectI have was a small eating house close to the rI haver. They were seen to pass in there, and Lester came out alone.
“ And then, figure to yourself, Hastings, an idea of the most unreasonable seized this Mr. Pearson! Nothing would suit him but that we should go ourselves to this eating house and make investigations. I argued and prayed, but he would not listen. He talked of disguising himself— he even suggested that I—I should—I hesitate to say it—should shave off my mustache! Yes, rien que I pointed out to him that that was an idea ridiculous and absurd. One destroys not a thing of beauty wantonly Besides, shall not a Belgian gentleman with a mustache desire to se” life and smoke the opium just as readily as one without a mustache,
“Eh bien, he gave in on that, but he still insisted on his project. He turned up that evening —mon Dieti, what a figure! He wore what he called the ‘pea jacket/ his chin, it was dirty and unshaved； he had a scarf of the vilest that offerended the nose. And figure to yourself, he was enjoying himselfl Truly, the English are mad! He made some changes in my own appearance. I permited it. Can one argue with a maniac? We started out—after all, could I let him go alone, a child dressed up to act the charades?”
“Of course you couldn’t,” I replied.
“To continue—we arrived. Mr. Pearson talked English of the strangest. He represented himself to be a man of the sea. He talked of'lubbers’ and Tocseiles’ and I know not what. It was a low little room with many Chinese in it. We ate of peculiar dishes. Ahy Dieuy mon estomacr Poirot clasped that portion of his anatomy tenderly before continuing. "Then there came to us the proprietor, a Chinaman with a face of evil smiles.
“ ‘You gentlemen no likee food here,’ he said. ‘You come for what you likee better. Piecee pipe,eh?’
C4Mr. Pearson, he gave me the great kick under the table. (He had on the boots of the sea, too!) And he said： “ donft mind if I do, John. Lead ahead”
“The Chinaman smiled,and he took us through a door and to a cellar and through a trapdoor, and down some steps and up again into a room all full of divans and cushions of the most comfortable. We lay down and a Chinese boy took offer our boots. It was the best moment of the evening. Then they brought us the opium pipes and cooked the opium pills, and we pretended to smoke and then to sleep and dream. But when we were alone, Mr. Pearson called softly to me, and immediately he began crawling along the floor. We went into another room where other people were asleep, and so on, until we heard two men talking. We stayed behind a curtain and listened. They were speaking of Wu Ling.
“ ‘What about the papers?’ said one.
‘Mr. Lester, he takee those/ answered the other, who was a Chinaman. ‘He say, puttee them allee in safee place—where pleeceman no lookee.’
“ ‘Ah,but he’s nabbed/ said the first one.
‘"He gettee free. Pleeceman not sure he done it”
“here was more of the same kind of thing, then apparently the two men were coming our way, and we scuttled back to our beds.
“ ‘We’d better get out of here,’ said Pearson, after a few minutes had elapsed. This place isn't healthy/
“ "You are right, monsieur/ I agreed. 4We have played the farce long enough.’
“We succeeded in getting away, all right, paying handsomely for our smoke. Once clear of Limehouse, Pearson drew a long breath.
“ Tm glad to get out of that/ he said. ‘But it’s something to be sure/
"‘It is indeed/ I agreed. 4And I fancy that we shall not have much difficulty in finding what we want—after this evening s masquerade/
“And there was no difficulty whatsoever,” finished Poirot suddenly.
This abrupt ending seemed so extraordinary that I stared at him.
“But—but where were they?” I asked.