by Neil Hunter
The little old man, in his black pants and tunic, saw them out of the store where they paused for a moment.
‘Could be a long day,’ Bodie pointed out. ‘If Hung suspects this feller Chi has Tong connections, the sooner we find him the better. Henry, it might be worth a visit to talk with this feller.’
‘I did not know he had links to the Tong. That has come as a surprise to me. He was employed to guide Jasmine through Chinatown when she expressed an interest in the area. If I had known about this perhaps the kidnapping might have been prevented.’
‘If kidnapping was the object whoever’s behind it would have managed it one way or another.’
‘Possibly so.’
‘So what else do you know about this Jiang Chi?’
‘Not a great deal. Except I do know where he lives.’
‘Let’s go and see what he has to say for himself.’
~*~
Lee took Bodie through a maze of close alleys. He walked with the confidence of a man who knew exactly where he was going. Bodie had no idea. He was surrounded by Chinese, pushing his way through the crowds, with buildings teeming with people on either side. He felt hemmed in. Not nervous, just crowded. In his normal habitat he could ride for days and not see a soul, with empty landscapes and a big, wide sky above him. Here in the city the rise of buildings near enough blocked out the sky. At some point Lee paused.
‘Jiang Chi lives there,’ Henry Lee said. He indicated an alley across the street. As they stepped inside, the narrow passage muted the street sounds. Lee pointed to wooden stairs leading to the upper floor. ‘Up there.’
Falling in behind his guide Bodie slipped his hand under his coat and gripped the Colt. They reached the head of the stairs. Bodie heard Lee utter a warning sound. He raised a hand. Glancing by him Bodie saw the door ahead of them standing ajar. From the other side of the door they could hear a soft trail of sound.
‘Get behind me,’ Bodie said. He pulled his pistol into view, dogging back the hammer.
Leaning forward Bodie gently pushed at the door. It swung wide. Hinges creaking. Light fell across the floor inside. Bodie moved forward, eyes searching ahead of him.
He saw the blood-soaked figure stretched out on the bare boards. Moving slightly. Blood was spreading out from the body. Already a wide pool, expanding and partially staining the floorboards. The sound they had heard came from the man on the floor. His dying breaths. His movements ceased as Bodie and Lee neared him.
‘Lee?’
‘It is Jiang Chi.’ The young man stood at Bodie’s side. ‘Tong work. Making sure Jiang Chi does not speak to anyone about what happened and where the girl is.’
He crossed the room and knelt at Jiang Chi’s side. Bodie heard the shocked gasp he expressed when he saw what had been done to the man.
Bodie looked down at Chi. Someone expert with a knife had sliced off the man’s lips. Had shredded his tunic and cut his torso open. Bloody entrails had slithered out and lay in a glistening heap on the floor. The right hand Bodie could see was missing every finger and thumb. They lay in the pooling blood.
‘A warning,’ Lee said. ‘To anyone thinking of interfering with Tong business. Jiang Chi might have helped Tung kidnap Jasmine, but he was not a true Tong, so they could not trust his silence. This serves as a reason why not to treat the Tong lightly. They do not tolerate outsiders.’
‘Why am I getting the feeling this was directed at me?’
‘Because your presence is known. That you are looking for the girl. I only wish to make you understand how the Tong operates. No second chances. Once you go against them there is no walking away.’
‘Lee, these people don’t know me. If they did…’
Lee smiled. ‘They would understand you are a man who does not like to be warned off.’
‘Feller, I knew we’d get along.’
‘This may help, or not,’ Lee said. ‘Jiang Chi frequented a saloon along the waterfront. It is called The Golden Palace. On the fringe of the Barbary Coast district…’
Bodie had heard of the Barbary Coast. A dubious section of the city with a disreputable image. It catered to all the vices known to man and was no place to enter if a man wanted to remain safe. The Barbary Coast was no place for the casual visitor. It was past its heyday but was still a tough and often wild place to visit. Dangerous. Bodie knew a number of towns in the west that could match its reputation.
‘…so it should be visited with care.’
‘I’ll try and remember that.’
‘You will go there?’
‘Sometimes a problem needs poking with a big stick to find out just how big it is.’
Chapter Four
The Golden Palace showed a tarnished, gaudy front. Once bright paint and gilded windows were starting to present their age. Bodie had found it easily, following Henry Lee’s accurate directions, and now stood across the street studying the establishment. He could hear the noise emanating through the swing doors. A steady stream of men came and went. Bodie stood across the street and looked it over. He eased the Colt tucked in his belt under his coat and weighed up his options. It took him no time at all to realize he actually had none. If he wanted to find out anything he was going to need to go inside the place and if that was the case he might as well do it now.
He had parted company with Henry Lee so the younger man could pursue some inquiries of his own that might go better if he was on his own rather than in the company of a tall Gweilo. Racial distrust worked both sides of the trail, Bodie realized.
In the same way as Bodie stepping inside The Golden Palace without Lee at his side might look less suspicious. Bodie was still debating the thought when he pushed the swing doors open and walked into the saloon.
His entrance didn’t attract too much attention from the crowd of men at the bar and the scattering of tables. Sawdust covered the rough plank floor. There were a half-dozen brightly dressed females, moving around and doing their best to entice interest. That was to be expected. The girls were employed to up the sale of liquor using their, sometimes too obvious, charms.
He bellied up to the bar and ordered himself a beer. He scanned the big room, receiving curious glances from the men at the tables. His well-dressed appearance drew close inspection. It didn’t bother Bodie at all. His only concern was to gain some interest other than his dress sense.
There was only the one bartender, a skinny, prematurely bald man in a striped shirt and an wrinkled apron tied high above his waist. He placed Bodie’s beer in front of him.
‘New in town?’
Bodie nodded, asked in a voice that carried, ‘Looking for a feller. Chinese. Name of Jiang Chi. Was told he sometimes comes here.’
The bartender shook his head. ‘We get the odd one time to time. Don’t recall that name though.’
Bodie took a swallow from the beer glass. He heard a murmur of voices to his left and glanced into the big mirror behind the bar. Three men, in a close group, were looking his way and not doing much of a job hiding it. One of them, obviously the leader, was a big man. Wide shouldered and muscled, a tobacco-stained drooping mustache hanging over his mouth. His bull neck strained the collar of his shirt and he was paying attention now Bodie had given Jiang Chi’s name.
It was a result be had been hoping for. Ask questions and people started to become interested. The thick-necked man was providing a strong reaction. Bodie could see that in the way the man was looking his way with a dark scowl on his beefy face. Every now and then he moved his big shoulders and hunched forward. He reminded Bodie of a bull getting ready to charge, flexing every muscle just before he made his move. It wasn’t hard to imagine the man pawing at the ground. Bodie knew there were men who enjoyed physical confrontations. And the simple matter of Bodie mentioning Jiang Chi had drawn the big man’s interest.
Bodie did his best to ignore the man. Even as he did he was telling himself he wasn’t going to go away. The man proved that by slamming down his glass, spilling beer on the bar. He pushed as
ide people in his path until he was facing Bodie.
‘Something I can do for you?’ Bodie said.
‘Yeah, how about dying?’
If the threat hadn’t been halfway serious Bodie would have burst out laughing.
‘Friend, I don’t know what’s got you riled, but is it worth getting yourself hurt over?’ The man laughed in Bodie’s face, expelling beery breath. ‘You going to put me to sleep?’ the manhunter said, ‘’cause your breath is purely liable to do just that on its own.’
‘I’m goin’ to crush you. You ask questions you shouldn’t.’
The bartender said, ‘Take it easy, Bennett. No trouble today, huh.’
‘Mind your business, Rickman. Unless you want some of the same.’
‘Take the man’s advice, feller,’ Bodie suggested. ‘This dumb yahoo is interested in me for some reason. Maybe ’cause I mentioned Jiang Chi though I doubt he could even spell the name.’
Bennett stared at Bodie for a few seconds. It was plain to see he wasn’t used to being talked down to. He used his formidable presence to force others to step back. Most likely to intimidate. Only this time he was facing a man who refused to back down.
Interest had risen as the group around Bennett began to anticipate what they had seen before. There was a degree of nudging each other. Vacuous grins forming as they saw their champion working his game.
‘You want to dance with me, bucko?’ Bennett said. His big fists formed at his sides and he took a short step forward. ‘You really do?’
A sly grin forming beneath Bennett’s drooping mustache. The fingers of his left hand, resting on the bar, were tapping with a nervous twitch. He brushed against a half-filled bottle of whiskey and snatched it up. His eyes never left Bodie’s face as he brought the bottle to his mouth and took a long swallow. He banged the bottle back down on the bar. It toppled sideways, the whiskey glugging as it ran from the bottle and spilled across the bar top. The man seemed to find this funny and chuckled, his voice deep and gravelly.
‘Hey,’ the bartender protested.
‘I told you once to mind your business, Rickman.’ Turning back to face Bodie, Bennett pointed to the spilled whiskey. ‘That’s going to be your guts, bucko. Spreadin’ across the floor.’
He’s a talker, Bodie thought. Likes to brag about what he’s going to do.
The talk was supposed to unnerve the man’s opponent. Throw him off his stride.
Well not this country boy.
‘You like that, bucko? Hearin’ what I’m going to do to you.’
‘You mean talk me to death? That the best you Frisco assholes can do?’
Bennett reacted by letting go harsh yell, whiskey breath blowing from his lips. He lunged forward, big hands clenching into bigger fists as he closed in on Bodie. There was little finesse in Bennett’s move. He was no skilled fighter. Simply an uncoordinated brawler who used his bulk and obvious strength to put his victims down. Right now he was expecting to smash Bodie to the saloon floor and most likely stomp him.
The manhunter stood his ground until the final moment, then launched a powerful fist that hammered Bennett’s large gut. The sound of the landing blow was clearly audible to the gathering. Bennett stopped in his tracks, eyes opening wide, his jaw dropping. While the man was still frozen to the spot Bodie hit him again. A left and right to Bennett’s heavy jaw. Bennett’s head snapped back and forth, a spew of blood spraying from his torn lips and staining his thick mustache. For a moment he rocked back on his heels. Bodie saw straightaway his blows were not about to put Bennett down. The man was harder than he looked. Bodie drew back his right to land another punch, but Bennett reacted faster than anticipated. His left hand shot forward, catching Bodie’s fist and stopping it in mid-flight. Bennett’s bloody mouth formed a wider grin as he brought his own clenched fist across and clouted Bodie across the side of the head. The power behind the punch slid Bodie along the bar, sending bottles and glasses flying. He heard Bennett growl something and as he turned he saw the big man looming over him, hands reaching to grab him.
It flashed through Bodie’s mind that he needed to end this fast. Bennett may have lacked the finer points of the pugilistic art. In its place he had brute strength and a killing instinct. He would be able to take punishment and still keep coming back for more unless Bodie put him down hard.
With the man’s bulk looming above him Bodie pushed himself away from the bar, sliding beneath Bennett’s grasp. He caught hold of the man’s thick hair, his big hand palming against the back of Bennett’s skull. Bodie applied every ounce of his own strength and rammed Bennett’s head down hard against the thick edge of the bar. The thump could be heard across the saloon. Bodie repeated the move, hauling Bennett away from the bar and slamming him down again…and again...and kept doing it as he felt Bennett start to sag. There was no pity in Bodie’s move. Bennett had initiated the conflict. Bodie was determined to end it.
When Bennett’s legs loosened and he slid floorwards Bodie stepped back. The big man hit the saloon floor with a heavy thud and lay still.
Be stepped back, reaching for the Colt under his coat, prepared to draw if anyone decided to continue Bennett’s play. No one moved. A heavy silence had fallen. Bodie leaned against the bar. He could see a dent in the edge of it, slick with Bennett’s blood. When he glanced down he could see Bennett’s broad back rising and falling with his breathing. Bodie wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He hadn’t killed the man – but Bennett still alive might present Bodie with a problem in the near future.
‘You up to hearing some advice?’ Rickman, the bartender, said.
‘Depends.’
‘Just watch your back, friend. Bennett runs with a hard crowd.’
‘I’ll remember that,’ Bodie said. He turned to face the crowd, sensing some hostility in the faces. ‘We done here?’ he asked. ‘Anyone else want to upset my drinking time?’
There were no takers. Bodie could hear some mumblings in the crowd but nothing happened. He turned and picked up his glass, took a long swallow. His knuckles ached from hitting Bennett. He raised his eyes and stared into the big mirror hung behind the bar. Saw a bruise forming on his head where Bennett had landed his hard blow. He also picked out two of the men who had been standing close to Bennett. They were edging through the crowd on a line that would take them out the door. If they were intent on a quiet exit they were not doing a very good job.
‘Might be a wise move to finish your drink and leave,’ Rickman said quietly. ‘Bennett isn’t the forgiving kind if you know what I mean.’
‘Friend, I’ve never walked away from a fight in my life. Too damn old to start doing it now.’ He glanced down at Bennett’s still form. ‘I don’t figure he’ll be getting up for a while.’
The bartender had to smile. ‘I’ll say one thing in your favor, mister, you don’t scare easy.’
Bodie pushed his empty glass across the bar. Rickman refilled it. Took Bodie’s money.
‘You always this busy?’
‘Friend this is Frisco. Plain to see you’re a newcomer. This town is always busy. We got people arriving every day. They come in by ship from every compass point. By train. On horseback. Some simply walk into town. They come for the California goldfields. Not that there’s much left these days. The big strikes are over. Others are looking for business opportunities. You step out on the street and you’ll see most every nationality there is.’
‘I already did. Seen a lot of Chinese especially.’
‘Where there’s business you’ll find the Orientals.’
‘Not so much in here.’
‘They keep mostly to their own kind. We get a few. Don’t mix too good. But you believe it friend, they know how to make money. And they don’t take kindly to anyone interfering in their business.’
‘I’m still looking for this Jiang Chi?’
‘There is one Chinese who comes in and always mixes with Bennett and his pals. Comes in now and then. Never caught his name. That bunch is always up to no
good. Tough crowd. Talk is they do work for the Tong.’
‘I heard word about something called the Tongs,’ Bodie said. ‘Don’t know much about them apart they run things in the Chinese community.’
‘Best to stay well away, friend, because the Tongs play hard. They’re a closed society. You do not want to get involved, ‘less you want a knife between the shoulders.’
‘Hell, I can do without that. Thing is I heard about them and got curious is all. Sounds like good advice to steer clear. Thanks for the warning…?’
‘Stan Rickman.’
‘Bodie.’
‘From your accent I’d say you’re not from these parts.’
‘Out west mainly.’
‘Long way from home.’
‘Home? Can’t say I could pin down anywhere as permanent. I move around a deal.’
Rickman simply nodded. He didn’t question Bodie anymore. It was an unwritten rule not to ask too much about a man’s personal business. If a man offered the information that was fine, but it was beyond the remit for anyone to probe too deeply.
And Bodie was not going to say too much. Rickman seemed harmless enough. Just a bartender talking to a customer. Yet there was always the chance he might pass any information along to less than friendly ears. For all Bodie knew the bartender might be earning himself money on the side by doing just that. If that was the case then Rickman was going to show a friendly face as he took in anything that might be of use to him. It was a sad state of affairs when a man had to judge who was to be trusted and who was conspiring to cheat on him. Bodie had been doing that for a long time. It was why he had stayed alive for so long.
He was new to San Francisco. There was no one in the city he could depend on. Apart from Henry Lee. It meant, like so many times in the past, he was going to have to work on instinct. On his own nature.
Bodie finished his beer, slid the glass across the bar, and nodded to Rickman.
‘Be seeing you, Stan. Grateful for the beer – and the advice.’
He turned and left the bar, stepping outside and heading in the general direction of his hotel. It was early afternoon. The weather pleasantly warm. A slight breath of air coming in off the water, bringing a salty tang of the ocean with it. Bodie walked steadily, taking in the sounds and the sights of the city. It was true what they said about San Francisco. Had to be the busiest place he’d ever seen. It made some of the towns he’d seen out west look as if they’d been deserted. Here the sidewalks and the streets teemed with people. All shapes and colors. And smells, he noted. Right at that moment Bodie could have happily exchanged the place for a quiet town like Tombstone.