by Neil Hunter
Lee’s captors dragged him across the room. In his painful condition a single thought permeated Lee’s conscious thought.
If I don’t get out of here I’m a dead man. There is no way Tung would allow him to live.
There was no doubt in his mind. Keye would turn him into a living corpse to get information from him. And if he got that information or not, Henry Lee knew he would not leave the building alive. It left him with a single option. He had to break free, putting himself in harm’s way to do it. Somehow. Some way. He needed to escape.
As the two men half-dragged him across the floor a faint hope rose. Not only faint but completely reckless. Lee almost smiled at the thought. Here he was close to being killed and he was worrying about acting recklessly.
The cause of his momentary concern were the tall, wood framed windows set in the end wall of the building. He knew from the layout that the rear wall of the warehouse looked out on the water of the bay. From his knowledge of the structure he knew they were at least two stories high. That would mean at least a twenty-five foot drop. A fall from that height could easily kill him – and that was what brought him back to his earlier amusement.
He could die by Tung’s hand – or by the impact of the fall. Not a wide choice. In the passing seconds Lee decided he would prefer his death came from a high fall, rather than the prolonged suffering Tung and his men would inflict. Out the corner of his eye Lee saw the closest window was no more than ten feet to his left. The dusty glass was held in place by thin wooden slats. Weathered and fragile. Easy to break through. Or so he hoped because that was Lee’s way out.
Once he had made his decision Lee acted on it.
He planted both feet hard on the timber floor, bringing himself and his escort of a sudden stop. His action caught the pair of Chinese off guard. They had not been expecting any kind of resistance from their captive after his punishment by Keye. Their loose grip on Lee’s arms was broken and before they could grasp him again Lee turned and broke into a run at the closest window. Realization of what he was about to do sank in quickly and the pair lunged forward, hands reaching out to recapture him.
They failed. Both were heavier and bulkier than the younger Chinese so fast as they were Lee stayed ahead of them. Sheer terror overtook him as he closed in on the window. Yet the feeling only made him move faster, throwing up his hands to cover his face as he launched himself forward. As his feet left the floor Lee experienced a moment of self-doubt but there was no turning back from what he had done. He managed to twist his upper body, striking the center of the window with his left shoulder. There was no resistance. The weight behind his headlong dive took him through the frame and the shattering glass. His momentum threw him clear of the building and Lee described a wide curve as he began to fall. he had little time to do anything save draw in a deep breath before he hit the surface of the water and plunged headfirst down into the depths. He struggled to right himself as he sank, fighting to slow his descent. The water was chill and it helped to clear his mind and clarify his thoughts.
He knew he had to reach the surface before the air burst from his lungs. Panic took over when he realized he had no idea which way around he was. Until he twisted and saw the gleam of daylight overhead. The problem was it appeared to be so far away he was certain he would not be able to hold out until he reached it. He kicked with his legs, tried to work his arms but they were still partially numbed from Kiang’s brutal blows.
Despite his condition he knew he had to try. He had information now that would help Bodie in his search for Jasmine Soong. Somehow he had to get that information to the man.
But the surface of the water still seemed to be too far away. Lee struggled to keep air in his lungs, even though they were starting to burn and the salt water was stinging his eyes…
~*~
…’Do you see him?’
Keye turned from the shattered window and shook his head. He snapped harsh words at the two Chinese who had allowed Lee to break free. The pair withdrew and started down the stairs leading to the bottom floor of the warehouse.
‘We must hope the fall killed him,’ Tung said. ‘He could identify us if he survives and contacts the American. I do not wish that to happen, Keye. I put you in charge of the search. Use the location of the hotel where this Bodie is staying. Lee may try to reach him. This time if you find he is still alive you must make sure he does not stay that way.’…
~*~
…Lee struck something in the murky green water, felt the slippery texture of wooden pilings and realized he was under the dock. Lee kept contact with the encrusted timber, clawing his way to the surface and sucking in fresh air as his head emerged. He stayed there for some time, gripping the piling. He could feel the restless motion of the lapping water, staring around as he calmed himself. Now he could feel the pain in various parts of his body. It hurt when he breathed where Keye’s blows had bruised his ribs. His arm muscles begged for relief. He felt the salt water stinging the cuts on his hands and face where glass had slashed at him as he crashed through the warehouse window. And his body ached from the brutal blows delivered by Keye.
Lee consoled himself with the fact he was still alive. The reckless leap through the window had saved him. His body was bruised and battered from the fall and he was lucky not to have broken any of his limbs.
Now he needed to get himself clear of the area because he knew without a doubt Tung would have his people out searching for him. He needed to find Bodie and let him know about Tung and the Tong’s involvement. Tung would be equally determined Lee did not contact the American.
Rested, Lee worked his way through the forest of pilings, his progress hampered by the swell and ebb of the water. His way took him under the waterfront structures and eventually he found himself in shallower water where the sea bordered the land and was able to wade ashore. Here he found a stretch of muddy flats. The smell of the detritus that washed up to the shore reminded him where he was. Flotsam rolled on the surface of the sea, human and natural. The air was tainted by the odor of fish and oil. Waste food that had been discarded. Lee realized he could have ended up floating on the tide himself if his fall from the high window had not turned out well.
A curtain of fog drifted in from The Bay and enveloped the shore. Lee was able to use it as he trudged his way from the wharf, carefully making his way inland. Once he left the seafront area behind he was able to work his way through the side streets, away from the busier areas. It took him time. He was still in some discomfort from his treatment by Tung’s men and his progress was slow, but Lee was determined to pass along what he had found to Bodie. When he reached the street where the hotel stood he took a look around. He was receiving attention because of his bedraggled appearance. The cuts and bruises on his hands and face stood out. His face was streaked with blood and he could understand why people were stepping around him, their faces showing their alarm.
Lee didn’t pay any attention to that. He was more concerned as to whether any of Tung’s people had seen him and followed him back to Bodie’s hotel. He felt that would have been unfortunate. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to where Bodie was staying.
He paused on the sidewalk, turning to take a careful look around. That was when he saw a closed carriage swerving across the street in his direction. As it swung sideways on he saw one of the side curtains ease open and a hand holding a revolver appeared. Lee turned around in order to get clear.
The sound of the shot was loud. It startled passersby. Alarmed horses on the street.
Lee felt a hard blow to his left shoulder. Then one to his body. The impact hurled him into the wall of the building he was passing. As the carriage sped by a third shot caught Lee in the left arm, the slug passing though his limb and tearing a ragged hole in his coat on its exit. Lee staggered off balance, blood pulsing from the bullet wounds as he stumbled to his knees. A third shot put a slug in his chest and Lee fell face down on the sidewalk, oblivious to the startled screams around him. His
face scraped across the sidewalk.
By the time the carriage had turned the corner ahead a crowd was gathering around Harry Lee – but by then he was unconscious and neither saw nor heard anything.
Chapter Nine
‘I need to go look for Henry Lee,’ Bodie said.
‘It’s a big city,’ Hunt pointed out.
‘I can find my way back to Li Hung’s store. He’ll help. We can join up at my hotel later.’
Bodie gave them the location.
‘That’s one of the best in San Francisco,’ Hunt said.
‘Seems my benefactors only go for the best.’
‘I’ll have a word with McCord,’ Brand said. ‘See if I can get him to spend a little more on my accommodation.’
They parted company, Brand and Hunt heading back to have a word with Inspector Hallows. They hadn’t gone far before Brand glanced around, murmuring under his breath.
‘What is it?’
‘Couple of Chinese heading our way.’
‘Jason, the place is full of Chinese.’
‘They’re not all carrying those damn hatchets the Tong seem to favor.’
The sight of the deadly blades brought back memories for Brand. Remembrance of a sandy beach in Mexico and the fight against Kwo Han and his men – the finale of that conflict had been the Tong leader’s attack on Brand – the blur of steel as the hatchet crashed against his exposed skull and put him down a second after he had fired his final shot at Han – the hatchet blow that had taken Brand’s memory and almost his life.
The shock of recall snapped Brand into action as he drew his Colt and pulled the trigger. The crack of the shot sent a .45 lead slug into the man. it thudded into his chest, coring in deep and the Tong stumbled and went down hard, the hatchet bouncing from his grip.
From beneath his coat Hunt pulled out an identical weapon. He had chosen the American pistol for his visit to the country, realizing there would be no problem getting hold of ammunition. And he admitted he liked the feel of the weapon and its power. He turned to face the second Chinese. The man moved with surprising agility, swerving to make himself a harder target. Hunt brought his pistol round to target the man, but was too slow to avoid contact as the Tong soldier lashed out, the keen edge of the hatchet sliced across his right arm, cutting down from his bicep and across his forearm. Hunt fell back, a shocked cry bursting from his lips. Despite the wound he lashed out with his left arm, his fist connecting with the attacker’s jaw, spinning him sideways and before the Chinese could recover Hunt braced his gun hand with his left, lifted the Colt and put a single shot through the side of the man’s skull. The Chinese went down in a burst of blood and brains, slamming onto the ground.
Brand reached the agent’s side as Hunt clutched at his bloody arm.
‘We need to get you to a doctor.’
‘You aren’t going to get any argument from me there, old chum,’ Hunt said.
His face had drained of color and he was swaying on his feet. He let Brand support him as he waved at an empty horse drawn cab. The driver might have argued at having a bleeding man in his vehicle, but the expression on Brand’s face advised him not to.
‘Nearest doctor and make it fast.’
The driver pushed his horse through the streets at full speed, the vehicle rocking from side to side. When he brought it to a halt Brand helped Hunt down.
‘Doc Boyd’s office,’ the driver said. ‘He’s a good man.’
Brand got Hunt to the door and pushed it open.
‘We need help here,’ he called.
The man who stepped out the back room took one look at the bleeding mess of Hunt’s arm and gestured behind him.
‘Bring him through.’
Between them they got Hunt onto the examination table where the doctor bent to his task. He cut away Hunt’s jacket and shirt, exposing the long, deep gash the hatchet had opened. By this time Hunt had lapsed into unconsciousness.
‘His name is Hunt. Richard Hunt.’
‘Mr. Hunt has a nasty wound…I’m Nathan Boyd by the way. Is this man a friend of yours?’
‘Yeah. Doc, do what you can for him. He deserves the best.’
‘And you are?’ Boyd asked without pausing in his examination of the open, bleeding wound.
‘Jason Brand.’
Boyd crossed the room and pulled on a long white coat, then gathered instruments and medicines.
‘How did this happen?’
‘We tangled with a couple of Tong members,’ Brand said as if that was the only explanation required.
‘I imagine you must have done something to upset them.’
‘A little.’
‘Should I be expecting a visit from them?’
‘Not the ones we faced.’
Boyd glanced at him. ‘Now that says a lot.’
‘Doc, I don’t want to put you in any danger from the Tong.’
‘Danger. Mr. Brand, I’ve worked in Arizona and New Mexico. Been shot at by Apache Indians, so I do understand danger. Believe me when I say working in San Francisco can sometimes be downright boring. That’s why I offer my services to the police.
‘Dr. Boyd, I need to speak to them. I’ll get back soon as I can.’
‘There’s a telephone in the other room. It may be a new invention but even as primitive as it is, a connection to the police department is extremely useful You can speak directly to the local station. Have you used a telephone before?’
‘Enough to make the call. You know an Inspector Hallows?’
Boyd didn’t look up this time from ministering to Hunt.
‘I know John Hallows well. As I said I do work for the police department.’
Brand left him to his patient and went to find the telephone and to make his call.
Chapter Ten
Bodie saw the crowd gathered outside the building where Li Hung had his store. He had a bad feeling as he eased his way through and it increased when he saw uniformed police officers stationed outside.
‘You’re not allowed inside,’ one of the policemen said.
‘Has something happened to Li Hung?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ a familiar voice said.
Sergeant Seamus Kilpatrick pushed his way through the crowd to confront Bodie.
‘What…?’
‘Someone cut the old man up like a dead fish,’ Kilpatrick said. ‘No easy way to say it, Mr. Bodie.’
‘He was only trying to help me.’
‘I believe you are learning about the Tong the hard way, boyo.’
‘I’m getting the urge to do something about them,’ Bodie said. ‘They don’t seem to give damn about anyone who stands in their way.’
‘Law unto themselves.’
‘Kidnap. Murder. This Tung hombre needs his rope shortening. Stop him running wild.’
‘You find your friend?’ Kilpatrick asked. ‘The young Chinese feller?’
‘No.’
‘I guess you’ll be worried now,’ the Irishman said as he and Bodie watched Li Hung’s covered body being brought out and placed in a waiting buggy.
A uniformed constable came across to where they were standing.
‘Message from Inspector Hallows, Sergeant. He says you need to locate a Mr. Bodie…’
‘You’ve done that, feller,’ Bodie said.
‘Tell it, Johnson.’
‘You need to go to Dr. Boyd’s office. He had a patient brought in who identified himself as Henry Lee. The man is in a bad way. Badly beaten and he’s been shot.’
Kilpatrick dismissed the man. ‘I have a police buggy across the street. It can get us there quickly.’
‘Let’s hope fast enough.’
~*~
Kilpatrick took the reins himself, urging the horse to a reckless speed through the city streets. It took them twenty minutes to reach the doctor’s office. Bodie was out of the buggy before it came to a stop. He was at the door when Brand appeared and the look on his face told Bodie all he needed to know.
‘Sorry, Bo
die. He died a few minutes ago. Doc Boyd did everything he could but Henry was too badly injured.’
‘Where is he?’
Brand led him through to the room at the rear where Henry Lee lay beneath a white sheet.
‘Mr. Bodie,’ Boyd apologized, ‘I wish we had better news for you. He was found near your hotel and brought here as quickly as possible.’
Boyd drew back the sheet covering Lee. Bodie could see the livid bruising on the young man’s flesh, the cuts and abrasions, as well as the bullet wounds.
‘I’ve only managed a cursory examination so far,’ Boyd said. ‘It appears he was severely beaten. Very severely. By someone who knew how to inflict pain. I believe a number of ribs had been broken. On top of that were the gunshot wounds. Your friend suffered greatly before he died. I’m surprised he was able to even talk.’
Bodie looked at the doctor. ‘What about?’
‘That he needed to speak with you because he had information you might find useful. He told me he had found out where Jasmine Yi Soong was being held.’
‘Where?’
‘At a homestead outside the city,’ Brand said from behind him. ‘And there was something about a boat called The Lily Wanderer. Tung had her taken there to keep her secure.’
‘Ain’t a damn thing going to be secure for Tung now,’ Bodie said. ‘He’s brought this down on himself and I aim to deliver it.’
‘And I promised help,’ Inspector Hallows said. He had entered the room quietly, pausing long enough to see the injuries on Henry Lee’s body. ‘Now seems to be a good time to make good on it.’
From the door Richard Hunt, his arm heavily bandaged and in a sling held tight against his chest, said, ‘Don’t leave me out. I want to help as well.’
Chapter Eleven
The Lily Wanderer – Mora Bay
‘You seem restless,’ Tung said.
‘I have reason to be,’ Traeger said. ‘I wasn’t expecting things to get so out of hand. This should have been running a lot easier. We have bodies left around the city. Too many bodies for my liking.’