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The frame of the second window
moved slightly and there was a rasping sound as metal was inserted in
the
space. The
simple hook-and-eye attachment was de
tached
easily, but the frame would not give since side
bolts
held it fast. There was a pause and I could picture
the
man without reaching for additional equipment.
Then
there was an irritating scratching sound that sent tingles through
the short hairs at the base of my neck. A tool was working on the
glass. A cutter, of course. Be
fore
its job was done, a piece of putty was applied to
one
portion of the glass. Then more scratching and a
circle
of the glass was silently removed. A thin arm reached through the
opening and disengaged the side
bolts.
The window swung inward and a piece of wood propped it in its upright
position. There was a lengthy
silence
as the man outside listened with care. I know
not
of the others, but I held my breath. Then there
came
the sound of tools being moved to one side and a body shifting
position.

Like a shadow, Gilligan had moved
to the other side
of
the open window, which he and Orloff now flanked. A pair of feet
appeared through the aperture and then a
thin
body shoved itself into the air and came down on
the
floor of the cellar with complete silence. As the figure
straightened from a crouched to an upright position, Orloff was upon
it. In a blur of movement, his arm encircled the man's neck,
shutting off the slightest sound.
His
other arm, with fist clenched, swiveled and the struggling human
slumped like a bundle of rags. An
other
pair of legs appeared in the window as Orloff passed the inert body
to Gilligan, who moved it back
into
the cellar away from the outer wall.

I felt as though I were suddenly
deaf since there was
not
the slightest sound. The second pair of legs were
much
bigger and their owner did not choose to drop
into
the cellar but attempted to lower himself, and successfully,
from the ledge. I judged him to be very large, possibly a Manchurian.
Evidently, the same thought oc
curred
to Orloff for he did not attempt a throttle-hold
but
swept his deadly bowler from his head and swung it
in
a murderous half-arc against the man's head. Now
there
was a faint sound, the thud of metal against bone.
Holmes
was at Orloff's side and the two of them low
ered
the giant to the floor.

Gilligan was back beside the
window now. I sensed
the
faint odor of spices, possibly the sickening sweetness
of
opium mixed with that of sweat. It was the smell of
Limehouse.
Still a third pair of legs made their appear
ance,
but the owner must have sensed that something
was
amiss for there was an intake of breath. Like a
snake,
one of Gilligan's abnormally long, thin arms
reached.
His hand grabbed an ankle, pulling the body
downward
as his left hand swung the sandbag he car
ried
on occasion. A third body joined the others on the
floor.

From without there was a faint
whistle, which star
tled
me so that my hand grasped my revolver and threatened to crack the
butt plates, but then I realized
that
it was only a signal from our boy in the plane tree. This was the lot
and we had them.

The matter was not finished but we
were well on our way. Holmes and Orloff boosted Inspector MacDonald
through the open
window into the back yard, where he conferred with our tree-climbing
ally before his police
torch
flashed a signal into the night. Gilligan had the
three
bodies, all Chinese, trussed up like Christmas tur
keys
in jig time, and gagged as well. Orloff began to lift
the
bodies, pushing them into the yard. As I followed
Holmes
to the ground floor, I noted that Orloff picked
up
the giant of the trio as though he were a baby. The
man's
strength was almost as unbelievable as his light
ning
reflexes, which I knew so well.

Holmes and I were now in the role
of observers, but
the
operation, to this point, had progressed so smoothly
that
I momentarily considered writing it up for the
study
of students at Sandhurst. The exhilarating scent of
victory
does tend to make one somewhat overdramatic.

A ground-floor window gave us a
good view of the
street.

"Mrs. Hudson is staying the
night with her sister,
Watson,
but we must make sure that her neighbors have
nothing
to comment upon during her absence. Besides,
a
fracas on Baker Street would be damaging to our im
age."

I doubt if our image was on the
minds of MacDonald's
squad, but they had certainly been well-rehearsed.
The
two men detailed as a protective measure had al
ready
vacated their latest haunt, the deep doorway of
Spea
and Henry's liquor store and were moving up the
other
side of the street. I saw a police van appear at the
end
of the block. Suddenly, dark shadows were every
where.
They were in the building opposite us in a trice. A window above
opened suddenly and, to my horror, a
man
lowered himself over the ledge and dropped. But before he could
regain his feet he was firmly grasped by two constables. I could not
tell whether they gagged him
or
coshed him, but he was silent. The police van came up the street at a
sedate rate and constables reappeared
with
two more prisoners in tow. The lot disappeared
into
the van, which then pulled round the block to pick
up
the other Chinamen in our back yard.

Holmes heaved a sigh of relief and
turned to me with obvious delight. "It's as though it had never
happened, Watson. No neighbors in windows. No onlookers or questions.
Perfectly executed."

"Perfectly planned," I
managed to say, laconically.

It was not long thereafter that
MacDonald returned.
I
busied myself with tantalus and gasogene, and bonded spirits were
passed round to join high spirits over a suc
cessful
venture. Holmes toasted the Scotland Yard in
spector.
"Now it is up to you, Mr. Mac. If you can keep
the
six captives under cover, we've bought ourselves
some
time."

MacDonald threw a quick glance at
Wakefield Or
loff.
"Truth is, Mr. Holmes, I planned to bury them in a
suburban
station and keep moving them round. I'd an
ticipated
embarrassin' questions from the Commissioner if he got wind of it.
But we had a turn of luck. The six
boyos
we bagged are being taken to a safe house and
'twas
the Commissioner himself who informed me of the
arrangement."

"So," said Holmes, also
looking at Orloff, "my
brother
has dealt himself into the game."

The security agent was
unperturbed. "Mycroft
Holmes
knows most of what goes on, you know. At the
moment,
the Foreign Office is more than a little inter
ested
in Chu San Fu. As to why his men are to be se
creted
away, your brother did not choose to explain."

"I wish someone would,"
I blurted out.

"The Elizabethan policy, my
dear Watson. Delay,
play
for time until things clarify. There is an adage of diplomacy which
applies here. Make haste slowly."

"Well," said MacDonald,
"my men have been informed that tonight's events are best
forgotten. The prisoners have been turned over to associates of Mr.
Orloff. I don't know where they are, nor do I want to."

"The safe-house technique has
always been effective
in
situations like this," said Orloff.

Noting my expression of
bafflement, Holmes came to
my
rescue. "A private residence which is not quite what
it
seems to be. Since, officially, it has no associations
with
government or police, it makes a nice hideaway or
temporary
prison."

"You've given me enough
clues," was my exasper
ated
comment, "but a criminal band attempted to enter
our
quarters illegally. Why all the secretive treatment?"

"To confuse Chu San Fu. If
six of his followers sim
ply
vanish, he will not make a move until he discovers what happened.
Were they captured? Are they peaching
to
the police? Have they simply run away? His hands
will
be tied until the matter is resolved and during that
time
we shall attempt to clear up the muddle surround
ing
this matter and discover what makes the Golden
Bird
so valuable. The answer lies with the Chinaman.
He
knows."

"But is not Basil Selkirk
also involved?" asked Or
loff.

"Watson and I had a meeting
with the financier. He
stated
that he was after the Bird simply because Chu San Fu was. I'm
inclined to believe this. Chu San Fu
has
the key to the puzzle. Barker found out what it was.
Among
Barker's possessions was a book which Slim se
cured
for us dealing with the career of Jonathan Wild. I
think
Wild, long ago, knew the secret of the Bird."

"That's why his man, Harry
Hawker, stole the statute
from
the shop on Rhodes," I said.

"The Rhodes robbery took
place around 1850, Wat
son.
Wild had been dead a full ten years by then. My
theory
is that what Wild knew died with him but a clue remained. Hawker
discovered it, possibly in the same
manner
that the lamented Barker did. The answer may
very
well be in this book of Barker's, gentlemen, which I intend to study
with much care."

Gilligan, MacDonald, and Orloff,
after more mus
ings,
speculation, and libations, took their leave and this
time
the lights did go out at 221B Baker Street.

17

More
Light in Dark Places

181

The events had been tiring indeed
and when I awoke
the
following morning, I was somewhat shocked at the
late
hour. Mrs. Hudson and Billy had returned by the
time
I found myself in the sitting room. Holmes had
breakfasted
and the smell of his strong shag was heavy
in
the room. The volume dealing with Jonathan Wild
was
on the desk and Holmes sat by the fireplace, his fingers steepled and
his aquiline nose pressed against them. I tiptoed out of the room to
acquaint our house
keeper
of my presence and needs. When I returned,
Holmes
had not moved a muscle, but he suddenly
looked
up as though startled by my presence.

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