This
man, who never in his life had found an excuse for the killer, now
maneuvered subtly the suggestion for a killing.
Keith was both shocked and amazed. "If anything happens, let it be in
the open and not on Shan Tung's premises," he had warned him. That
implied in McDowell's mind a cool and calculating premeditation, the
assumption that if Shan Tung was killed it would be in self-defense.
And Keith's blood leaped to the thrill of it. He had not only found the
depths of McDowell's personal interest in Miriam Kirkstone, but a last
weapon had been placed in his hands, a weapon which he could use this
day if it became necessary. Cornered, with no other hope of saving
himself, he could as a last resort kill Shan Tung--and McDowell would
stand behind him!
He went directly to Shan Tung's cafe and sauntered in. There were large
changes in it since four years ago. The moment he passed through its
screened vestibule, he felt its oriental exclusiveness, the sleek and
mysterious quietness of it. One might have found such a place catering
to the elite of a big city. It spoke sumptuously of a large expenditure
of money, yet there was nothing bizarre or irritating to the senses.
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