THE ROGUE OF FITZROY ROAD

Star (Christchurch), Volume XLIV, Issue 77, 31 March 1931, Page 16

THE ROGUE OF FITZROY ROAD

By

KENNAWAY JAMES

(A'lthor of “The Missing Mannequin.” etc.)

CHAPTER XX. I Finding Sing Loo. Alfieri’s eyes brightened at the mention of Loo’s name. Of course lie knew him. Wasn’t it Sing Loo who had supplied the dope to Brilliant Chang? Or, at least, wasn’t Sing Loo one of Brilliant’s men? And didn’t Brilliant let him down and leave him without a copper for all the risks he had taken? Oh, yes, Alfieri knew Sing Loo well enough. ‘•Do you see him often?” asked Melton. “Every day,” said the half-caste. “Saw him this morning.” “How was he dressed?” “He had on a dark coat and a pair of plum-coloured trousers. Oh, very new trousers. Sing Loo should never have bought them. He must have found some money somewhere. He is not paid very well for his silly little dope-running. Does all the work without the pay.” “And where do you suppose he is now?” asked Melton. “Is he in these parts ?” “He sure is not,” replied Alfieri, indulging in the dago’s love of American slang. “You are more likely to find him at the ‘Lion’ in Whitechapel.” “Whereabouts is that?” queried the detective. “In Vardon Street, one of the little streets which run off the Whitechapel Road. Near the underground station.” This was enough for Melton. He handed Alfieri what had now become a customary five shillings and at once made his way to the Whitechapel Road. Alfieri was quite right. The “Lion” was the nightly resort of Sing Loo when he was not engaged as a go-between between an incoming ship at the docks and Mr. Morden Sarker. Sing Loo’s business was to meet certain sailors and receive dope from them in one of the mean inns about the docks. Vardon Street was a strange place. There was hardly a non-Semitic face to be seen in it. The shops were all kept by Jews, and Hebrew characters governed all written notices and announcements to be seen in their windows. There were shops with such meagre contents in their windows that one wondered if they were really shops at all, or merely blinds to hide some nefariousness existent within. Girls, mostly young, could be seen scurrying and •laughing along the pavement—pretty girls, with all the beauty which the young Jewesses can flaunt until double chins claim them for their own. In this street was the “Lion,” kept, of course, by a Jew. Melton entered it, and by luck found a solitary Chinaman sitting in the back bar. There were others with him, and Melton waited an opportunity to join in the conversation, which was about racing. Having ordered drinks, and Sing Loo, for he it was, having taken a fancy to one who evidently had money, the pair drifted into conversation. Presently the others left and Melton was left alone with Mr. Barker’s midnight visitor. So far so good. Having plied Sing Loo with drinks until he had become voluble, Melton drew him on the subject of cocaine, and finally upon the subject of rich men getting all the money and poor men—like Sing Loo—all the risk. The topic seemed to interest Sing Loo, particularly when Melton said he knew Chinamen who were extremely highly paid by 4 friend of his for doing. «i|ch work. Little did the detective know that Sing Loo had already, by the prescience of Morden Sarker, arranged exactly what he was going to say at such a meeting. Mr. Melton was far too concerned in obtaining what he called direct evidence to exercise the caution which should have been his. . After a time Sing Loo said he would have to be going, as he had to meet a gentleman who had a little package which he, Sing Loo, had to take to another gentleman in Fitzroy Road, Mardlcfiam. “Would it matter Very much if you took me with you?” asked Melton. “I think I can introduce both you and your friend to someone who can give you pounds where . now you only get shillings.” Sing Loo’s eyes opened widely. “Sir,” he said, “I. want to meet such a beautiful gentleman.” “Well, have you any dope about you .to-night?” “No,” said Sing Loo, “hut I can welly soon get it. You come with me? Yes. Then I can get it for you from the very gentleman we welly well meet. You will pay?”

“That’s really what I’m here for,” said Melton. “I know all about the dope game. Listen.” ■Whereupon he poured into the ear of Sing Loo a number of stories which showed that .he was well ■ acquainted with the subject under discussion. Sir, it seems to me that you will be a good gentleman for me to know. We will go down there now. It is not far away. We do not do anything in Limebouse. There are too manv who know all about it down there. That’s why we come up here. Velly well, let’s go at once.” A little later Sing Loo was leading the way up Some rickety stairs through a shop which sold meat. At first glance, this meat might have been meant for cats, but really it was meant for human consumption. Giving a cautionary wave of the hand. Sing Loo carefully opened a door. Melton, quite on bis guard against eventualities, followed him. They entered a dark and diminutive room, where Loo hade tile detective wait whilst he entered the next apartment. A moment later he returned and beckoned Melton to follow him through the door. Melton followed, only to hear behind him the unmistakable sound of a key being turned in the lock. His hand slid into his pocket for a revolver which he always carried, but he found his wrists gripped in the unexpectedly strong hands of Sing Loo. At the same time a heavily-built and lieavilvmoustaehed Jew emerged through a door opposite. “What's this?” exclaimed Melton, asking the question so that lie would have time to think while it was being answered. '‘lt is nothing very much,” said the Jew, “ except that you are here and I are going to stay here for a long |

time. \\ e have a gentleman waiting here who wants to see you. He will join you presently. Meanwhile you sit in that chair. . But first we will have So saying, the Jew went behind Melton and relieved him of his only friend of the moment. Melton had no alternative but to obey and sit in the proffered chair, where lie was quickly bound by the deft fingers of Sing Loo. Another Chinaman joined them, making the odds now three to one, and making Melton wish he had made a struggle when there were only’ two against him. A moment later the Jew advanced slowly to the door and then turned round to Melton. “You would like to see the gentleman who is waiting for yon?”.he asked. “Most decidedly I would,” said [Melton, who would have welcomed the face of the Devil himself at the moment. “Very well, you shall see him” said the Jew, svhereupon Sing Loo broke into unpleasant laughter. “And you thought you were a-fooliug me!” he exclaimed. “There are not welly many who fool Sing Loo. Some have done it. but they do not live today. Mr. Abrahams will bring in the gentleman soon.” There was much art about Sing Loo. He made a gcoc* profit out of drugs simply by playing one part and playing it consistently. He never appeared to be more than a Chinese seaman. His thoroughness was seen in his buying of a new pair of trousers to replace those which had been torn by Mr. Noggins’ dog. It would not have done for him to have boasted a second pair among the riff-raff w r ith whom he associated at the dock-site. It is true he could have bought a seco’nd-liand pair, but he was subtle enough to let others think the purchase to be part of the Chinaman’s love of finery. A very clever man was Sing Loo. A little later the door w r as opened again, and the face of Mr. Abrahams appeared. “The gentleman would like you to come into this room and see him,” ho said, whereupon Sing Loo drew from his pocket a large silk handkerchief, which he bound round Melton’s mouth. “It is best that you should not to the gentleman,” he said. Mr. Abrahams then joined him, and together they carried the chair, and the detective with it, into the next room. f Here was a sight which made Melton gasp, for, seated in a chair similar to his own, and gagged in the same manner, was none other than the rotund little Mr. Noggins himself. “Well, I’m damned!” Those were the words which Melton tried to say, but the gag prevented' his uttering them. He merely could look at the trussed up little figure be- 1 fore him. Mr. Noggins’ eyes blinked expressively: at times showing a glimpse of humour. To each of them it was a mystery how the other had come there. Meanwhile Abrahams and Sing Loo, together with the other Chinaman, seated themselves at a tableand began a card game which might have been anything from Faro to Farmers’ Glory. * The agony of not bei'ng able to speak was so great to Mr. Noggins and the detective that they each closed their eyes after a time and simply sat awaiting events. This, thought Mr. Noggins, Mr. Noggins of the uneventful life, was what had cqme to him through trying conclusions with Morden Sarker. Then he began to wonder what they would be thinking at home. It was not often, that he was late in his arrival at “The Acacias,” and, although Mrs. Noggins never appeared particularly pleased to see him, she was distinctly displeased if she did not see him. There woyld he felt sure, be a certain amount of unrest at “The Acacias,” for the hour was growing late. Why he was thus being detained in the same manner was a source of speculation to him. His curiosity was somewhat relieved when Abrahams told him that they were kept there pending an interview with a gentleman who had a good deal to say to them. Having heard this, and having blinked at Melton, Mr. Noggins again turned bis mind to the sorrowing abode in Fitzroy Road. His solicitude on behalf of his family was not misplaced. There had been a special dinner prepared for him consisting of thick chops, which he adoreuj preceded by a doubtful soup made from a sample tin left by a traveller. Ho had been told about the chops before ho left home that morning, so that his failure to arrive took on a greater import.

“I can't understand,” said Mrs.’ Noggins to Enid. “It must be after twelve now. Do you think we ought to tell the police?” “Certainly not,” was Enid’s reply. “I expect he’s met a friend.” Nevertheless, of the two, hers was probably the greater concern. Somehow, of late, her father had become a little more endeared to her. She attributed it to the chat they liad had about lier marrying Harold Sarker. He liad shown an almost pathetic interest in her future, which slie found refreshing, and even comforting after the persistent match-making motives shown by her mother. She had. said nothing to her mother about it. Indeed she had hardly thought of it herself, but now, when there seemed to be danger in the air, she began to see her father as perhaps the only real embodiment of sincerity which she had encorintered in her own sphere. She had seen Harold Sarker again that day, and had begun to wonder if he, too had not undergone some change, for he told her of the interview with his father on the preceding evening. She had imagined him to be merely a hanger-on to his father, but, if what he told her was true, there was more in Harold—to use a phrase—than met the eye. He had deliberately risked a break with his father for her sake. Like many hitherto self-centred women, the sense of someone elsc’s secrifice filled her with an admiration which almost called for self-abnegation. She felt that she wanted to see him again and thank him, to acknowledge the sacrifice which he was willing to make for her. j, In short, Enid's emotions were £>oI coming a little difficult for tier tu--1 manage single-handed.