The girl swallowed hard and then forced herself to reply. "He was my life," she said simply. "For a little time he gave me happiness. I would do anything for him-anything."
Tibbs understood that in the way that it was meant. "Did he bring you to this country?"
Yumeko nodded. "I was of small service to him when he was in Japan. He wished an interpreter and he was willing to accept me. When he found out-the conditions of my life-^he made offer to me to come and keep his house for him. As you say, without strings. Within the months that I was here with him I found for the first time what it is to be happy.** Quite simply, without preliminaries, she broke down into silent tears.
Virgil waited until she began to recover, then, silently, he handed her a clean handkerchief. She took it and wiped her eyes. There had been times when others had refused that accommodation from him. "Do you have any other friends here?" he asked.
Yumeko answered by shaking her head.
"I believe that I can arrange for someone to look after you."
Again the girl shook her head; then she spoke. "I wUl care for myself," she said.
"You can be comfortable here?'*
^'Yes.'*
"Then in that case I would like to ask you not to leave until we know a little more than we do now. We may need you to help us." He put it that way in order to give her something to hang onto; to provide a bit of moral support. When her first surge of grief passed, she might well become completely unstrung.
"Before I go, Yumeko, may I ask just a few more questions?"
She nodded.
"Mr. Wang was, I take it, a man of considerable wealth.*'
"I do not know."
"Let me put it this way: did Mr. Wang have any business activities that you know of?"
"Yes," she said. "He sold jade."
That cast a new light on the matter. "Then all of the pieces that I saw were not his private collection-they were his stock in trade-is that right?"
Yumeko composed herself and tried to sit a little straighter in her chair. "Mr. Wang sold jade and he received visitors here who wished to buy. But not all of the pieces were for sale. Some he would sell, others were his own- treasures. Sometimes people came just to look. He would allow this, when he knew the person who asked."
"Mr. Wang was an authority on jade, I take it."
"Yes, he was very very wise. And very honest. When he receive a carving that was false jade, he would not sell it. Once when a man wanted one very much, Mr. Wang said that he sold only genuine stones and gave it to him instead. And he was a rich man who came to buy."
"When was this, Yumeko?"
"It was yesterday."
Tibbs took out his notebook. "Do you remember the name of the man?" he asked.
Once more she nodded. "Yes, it was Mr. Donald Washburn."
CHAPTER 4
Don Washburn himself held open the front door of his palatial home to welcome Virgil Tibbs inside. If he was in any way annoyed by the early evening call he concealed it completely. Nor was his greeting overly effusive; he was cordial to precisely the right degree. He led the way through a very long and expensively furnished living room to an enclosed porch at the rear of the house. There he motioned toward a chair while he stepped behind an elaborate small bar. "What wiU it be?" he asked.
"Do you have Cherry Heering?"
"Certainly: on the rocks or straight up?"
"On the rocks."
Washburn nodded. "Good man." He poured two drinks into fine glassware and served his guest with one of them. Then he dropped into a chair and faced Tibbs at a slight angle which implied sociability. "What can I do for you?" he asked.
Virgil sampled his drink carefully and then adjusted the tone of his voice before he replied. "Mr. Washburn, how well did you know Mr. Wang Fu-sen?"
His host reacted to that at once. "I don't understand your use of the past tense."
"I regret very much to bring you this news," Tibbs said, "but Mr. Wang is dead. He passed away early this afternoon."
"Naturally?" Washburn was sharp, there was no doubt about that.
"No, sir, he was murdered."
"Good God!"
Virgil sat quietly and let Washburn take his time. The big, handsome, blond man gave every appearance of being genuinely shocked by the news. When he had recovered himself he spoke again, "Can you tell me any more about it?"
"Not a great deal. He was killed, apparently without too much of a struggle, and left lying on the floor of the room where he kept his jade. I mean no impUcations by this, but I understand that you were one of his last visitors."
Slowly Washburn nodded. "I saw him yesterday," he acknowledged. "I called on him at his home. It was essentially a business call, but I have known Mr. Wang for some time and our relationship had become a quite personal one. That should answer your opening question, by the way." He stopped and took solace in his drink.
"Are you a jade collector, Mr. Washburn?"
In a calm and quiet voice his host answered. "Yes, to a modest degree. I would like to think of myself as a student of jade and jade carving. It is a vast and intricate culture of its own, Mr. Tibbs, and to my mind one of the most fascinating subjects in the world."
"Would you describe Mr. Wang as an authority?"
"Absolutely, there's no question about that. And, I might add, he is, or was, one of the most honest men it would be possible to imagine. I can give proof of that"
"You were a customer of his, I take it?"
Again Washburn nodded. "Yes, I would say that Mr. Wang sold me about seventy percent of my collection, as a guess. Not that it is extensive; actually he encouraged me to buy fewer pieces and to concentrate on very good ones. They are more rewarding to own and they appreciate faster. Very fine work, for the most part, isn't being done anymore."
"How did you acquire the other thirty percent?"
"From various sources. Gxmips in San Francisco, one or two pieces I bought in Taipei-they have very fine jade there if you know where to go. Not the tourist stuff, but the real chen yu — true jade."
"There are imitations, then?"
Washburn waved a hand. "Gosh, yes-multitudes, and most of it is passed off as the real thing, of course. They call it by a variety of names-new jade, Soo Chow jade, soft jade-but none of them are real jade."
"I believe that you're underrating your own knowledge," Tibbs said. "Obviously you know what you're talking about."
"Superficially, perhaps, but compared to real experts like Mr. Wang or Goh Keng Tong I can't even sit on the bench."
Tibbs shifted in his chair. *This afternoon," he said, "I had the pleasure of meeting you under very different circumstances. Right now I am engaged in the case of Mr. 26
Wang's death, which will probably prevent me from taking part in any antinarcotics activity until the matter is resolved. My new role makes it necessary for me to ask you some additional questions."
"Certainly. Should I have my lawyer present?"
Virgil finished his drink and answered while his host was preparing him another. "If you so desire, then by all means call him. However, at the present time I'm interested principally in background information which doesn't concern you personally.'*
Washburn brought the fresh drinks over and resumed his seat. "That's a relief, and I'm sure we understand each other on that point. You see, I've heard of you too."
Tibbs did understand, and he let the matter rest there. "You are the head of the company I visited this afternoon?"
"Yes, Washburn Associates. The name is deliberately non-commital."
"Do you do other work besides fuel research?"
"Yes, but those activities are strictly classified. If you need to know about them, you will have to clear the appropriate security people first. If they give me the green hght, then I'll be glad to brief you fully."