A Lesson in Secrets_ A Maisie Dobbs Novel - Jacqueline Winspear [87]
“There was little disturbance.”
He nodded. “There are other explanations, other means of committing the act of murder than by snapping the neck. But if it is a woman, and the circumstances are as you describe, then she might well have used a form of wushu to defend herself. I assume that is what you came to hear.”
“Thank you, Mr. Clarence.”
Clarence Chen bowed deeply, then turned and walked to his desk. The man who had escorted her to the room returned to her side and signaled for her to follow him.
“Blimey, I nearly left,” said the taxi-cab driver, as she stepped into his motor car. “I thought you were never going to come out of there.”
“I was perfectly safe.”
“I’ve heard about him, the fellow what lives in there. Chen, ain’t it? They reckon he’s a right one—bit of both, ain’t he? Mother was English, they say, came from some sort of missionary family, and was only young when she had him. I’ve heard she came back from over there with the boy when her husband died.”
“That’s true.”
“I heard no one wanted to know her, so the poor woman had to make her way alone, and did a good job of it, all things considered. And then when the son was old enough, he went off and looked for his own kind—well, he found ’em in this swill pit, didn’t he? And they say he’s got the opium dens, the smuggling, running all sorts of rackets with the lascars, and the Chinese and Japanese sailors what come through here—and done up like two penn’orth of hambone, enough to do business in Mayfair, if you please.” He shook his head. “Nice young lady like you, going in there—I’m surprised you came out again—mind you, you’ll probably tell me that half those stories about him are like them myths you were talking about, eh? Can’t see a half-caste getting on in there, when all’s said and done.”
Maisie looked out at the grim spectacle of Limehouse Causeway. “Oh, all the stories about Mr. Clarence Chen are true; every word. His mother was a friend of a very dear friend of mine. Could you take me to Pimlico now, please?”
Before leaving Pimlico the next morning, Maisie placed a telephone call to Billy at the office.
“Have you been in touch with Sandra’s in-laws?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Tapley. I never saw two people look so ill with losing someone, really I haven’t. Not since just after the war, when I went to see some of the families of my mates who were killed over there. Anyway, I thought I’d take a chance and ask them if they’d seen Sandra, and they said not since the funeral. They were right worried about her, you know. Said they’d told her she was welcome to live with them in Whitstable until she got herself sorted out, but she said no. They said she was like a wraith at the funeral, couldn’t put two words together that sounded right.”
“What about her parents?”
“They live out a bit, well, her father does—mother died a few years ago, according to what I’ve found out. Father lives in Essex now—apparently that’s where he’d come from as a boy—so I thought I’d go on the train tomorrow, see if she’s there. Mind you, I don’t want to cause trouble, so I thought I’d just look around, see if I can spot her coming and going.”
“And remember Reg, who Eric worked for. See what he has to say for himself—lean a bit harder on him.”
“Right you are. Leave it to me, Miss.”
“Thank you, Billy. Oh, and by the way—you can tell Doreen that the house will be ready to move in soon, about three weeks, all being well.”
“Oh, that is good news. You just let me know what I have to pay, and when.”
“Don’t worry about that, Billy. They have some sort of special contractual offer at the moment—I didn’t want to tell you until I sorted it out, but there’s nothing for you to pay for six months.”
The line was quiet. “You sure, Miss?”
“Perfectly. Came as a surprise to me, so I’m very pleased all around.”
Maisie ended the call and left for the station. She wondered how she had become so much more adept at telling