Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine. Vol. 49, No. 1 & 2, January/February 2004

Harry Kung pushed his helmet back and scratched his head fretfully. To him, the fact that no one had seen Wong Li was proof that Wong Li was ensconced within his master’s premises and overseeing them watchfully. He had difficulty grasping that this proposition had another side to it. If no one had seen Wong Li, perhaps Wong Li wasn’t there.

Except that he had to be there. Wong Li himself had told Constable Kung that he would be there. Both he and his employer, Charlie Tang, had told others the same thing. The entire neighbourhood knew that Wong Li would oversee Charlie Tang’s premises during the Tang family’s absence. So he had to be there. But in that case, why didn’t he answer the Constable’s knocks?

Back we went for another try at the side door and then for a try at the front of the shop. The Constable’s knocks became violent. There still was no response.

Three Lascars, Indian seamen, came along the street. They were large, husky, dark-skinned men, and their size made both Constable Kung and me look like children. Asked in English about Charlie Tang and Wong Li, they gazed at the Constable silently for a moment, shrugged, and walked on. They would have their quarters somewhere nearby, perhaps a darkened room in a disused shop, crowded with beds, sofas, or even mattresses spread on the floor. They did not mind sleeping ten or twelve to a room. Probably they had done so all of their lives.

A middle-aged Chinese man followed them. Constable Kung discoursed briefly with him. He had heard that the Tang family would be away and that Wong Li would watch the shop. Beyond that, he knew nothing. He had not seen Wong Li, nor had he seen any sign of activity in the building since the Tangs left the previous morning.

A young Chinese man came along from the other direction. He was a tradesman of some sort; he wore an apron and carried a bag of tools. He did not live nearby. He knew who Charlie Tang was — everyone in the East End knew who Charlie Tang was — but he knew nothing about his plans for Christmas.

We walked along the side street for a short distance. I eyed Madam Shing’s window and wondered just how much she could have seen on a dark night. Two young Chinese men — they both looked surly and disreputable — approached on the opposite side of the street. Constable Kung called something to them; they answered, and suddenly he seemed excited. After another exchange, they crossed the street and joined us.

The Constable interrogated them at length before he bothered to translate. “They say,” he said finally, “that they saw Wong Li early yesterday morning. He was arguing with Charlie Tang just outside the shop’s side door. It was something about Wong Li staying to look after the shop, and both men were angry. Li wanted time at home like Charlie’s other employees.”

“How did it end?” Lady Sara asked.

“They don’t know. It was none of their business. They were just walking past, and they kept on walking.”

“It might be wise to write down their names and addresses just in case their testimony becomes important,” Lady Sara said. “The next step would be to call at Wong Li’s home and find out whether he is there. Do you know where he lives?”

The constable knew. We walked down the side street for a short distance to a shabby brick building that housed an odd, dusty shop dealing in amulets and charms on its ground floor. Wong Li, along with his wife and three small children, occupied a single second-storey room. His wife, a young, highly attractive Chinese woman, was bewildered at our questions. Li’s employer had gone to Liverpool, and Li was guarding the premises during his absence. When the Tangs returned, Li was to have an entire week off, and they would go to the southwest of England where, she had heard, it was warmer. All that was agreed. Charlie Tang was a wonderful employer. No, he and Li never disagreed about anything. Li felt lucky to have such an employer.

This, rendered in Chinese and then translated, took some time. In the end, we had not advanced our knowledge except for establishing that Li was not at home and that the person who should have known him best, his wife, thought he was guarding the Tang premises.

Back we went to Charlie Tang’s shop. “Madam Shing’s story, along with the certainty that Wong Li is supposed to be here, suggest that drastic measures are in order,” Lady Sara said. “Is there any legal way to break in?”

Constable Kung was shocked at the thought.

“Supposing a chief inspector ordered you to do it?” Lady Sara asked.

“Oh, well, if a chief inspector ordered it...”

“But I don’t think we have come to that yet. Does anyone in the neighbourhood own a ladder?”