Nine
We drove along for several blocks in silence. I was thinking furiously and being annoyed with myself. After assuming first that Hsu Chin Kwang was the head of the ring, I’d had my grand hunch that his daughter was. Then it had seemed that everything fit—but mostly because I thought that it should. She was a tall, beautiful Chinese girl, so she was Mary Moy. The person who was the head of the ring needed money, and she had money. Her father knew about jade and had a collection, so therefore she must want one, too. And her father had wanted a boy, so she was trying to prove that she was a better bandit than he’d been. And so on and so on.
“Where shall I take you to see a doctor?” Inspector Hemming asked.
“No place,” I snapped. “I’ll see a doctor later. I want to go back to headquarte
