“Do you believe me?” Clara took Lees’ hand. “I promise you all. I know who the murderer is. However, if I give the identity of this monster, I know Isaiah will make an arrest. After this trial, I now realize the evidence I have will not be sufficient to convict. The only way I can make the arrest, and perhaps expose any collaborators, will be to lure the murderer to us.”
“Carrie, I knew you had an answer! How will you get the killer here?” Ah Toy used the familiar name for her friend, knowing this was an important moment.
“Carrie? I never knew you had such a name,” Lees said.
“My parents gave it to me at birth. I changed it later to a more officious title. I believe this killer has an obsession about independent women. Although I don’t know what is in this sick person’s mind, I do know that if we can escalate the independent threat, then this person will become so enraged that he or she will attempt to come here in order to murder again.” Clara unfastened the top button on her dress and took a deep breath. “Once again, I plan to use the power of the press to arouse the passions of this killer. What if Ah Toy shows women how to use their feminine magnetism to make money from men? We can then advertise a course to teach women these skills. We can say that each course enrollee will have a private meeting with her, beforehand, in this mansion, in order to ascertain the specific needs of the student.”
“Yes! That private meeting will tell the killer it will be an excellent way to eliminate me.” Ah Toy’s face radiated with inner excitement at the prospect of danger.
“I won’t be able to guarantee at which appointment the killer will appear, as I would assume he or she would not use his or her real name or true gender. Therefore, I will have to be ready to protect you at every such rendezvous inside the mansion.” Clara took Ah Toy’s hands in her own. “You are so very brave to be doing this.”
“Not only will I be assisting you in trapping this murderer, I will also be preparing the lessons needed to educate a new generation of women who want to gain independence and profit from the male patriarchy.” Ah Toy smiled. “I would assume these two powerful men will be helping us in our trap. And, if you need more assistance, I do know some Tong men who would be more than willing to pitch-in.”
Dutch Vanderheiden snorted, “Say what? No Tongs allowed. If Mayor Bartlett or any of his henchmen saw even one Chinaman around this place, they’d raid us in a heartbeat. Just keeping Georgie boy inside will be difficult enough.”
“Where can we stash the boy so nobody will see him?” Captain Lees liked to get everything prepared before he did anything. “It should preferably be somewhere nobody would wander into by accident.”
“There’s an observatory in the largest steeple. It’s a small room, but it is out of way, and George will be comfortable,” Ah Toy said.
“Fine. Show us where it is before we go. I want to be able to enter and go directly up there. The faster we can lock him away, the better.” Lees stood up and motioned for his partner. “We need to go now, Dutch. We have to plan our kidnapping adventure before we arrive. It won’t be easy, but those oafs in the Sheriff’s jail can be tricked if we do things correctly.”
“Hey, boss, we can do it. They don’t call you Sherlock around the station for nothing.” Dutch followed the shorter man to the door. Ah Toy minced her way over to the door and opened it.
“Lead on, Ah Toy. Clara, you can start drafting your advertisement for the newspapers, and after we return with George Kwong, you can begin your part of this endeavor.”
“Good luck, Isaiah and Eduard. I am so grateful to you both. You’re putting your careers and possibly your lives at risk.” Clara said, smiling at them.
The observatory was a good hiding place. It was up a long, winding stairway, and the room was very dark and sinister, with a skylight that looked out at the stars above San Francisco. A small bed, a lamp, a chair, and a telescope for viewing the sky. Lees and Dutch thanked Ah Toy and left.
***
It was a long walk from Nob Hill to the jail on Kearny, so Lees and Vanderheiden took the cable car. They discussed how they would break George Kwong out the same way they discussed all their cases together. Lees began by laying out the plan, and Dutch filled in the details.
“Smith knows me, so we can work on him. I’ve been on hanging details before, so I know the protocol. The prisoner always has to see the doctor before he can be hanged. That always made me scratch my head. Why does the poor bastard have to be healthy to get his neck broken? Because it’s the law.” Lees took out his Bowie knife from his vest and began to clean under his fingernails. An elderly couple seated in the opposite row gave him a fearful look. Captain Lees just smiled at them.
“Good. We can tell Smith we need to take Kwong to Doc Reed around the corner on Market. But they’ll know we were the last officers to be seen with him. What about that?” Dutch stretched his long legs under the seat in front of him.
“We both run like three-toed sloths. We’ll just say the kid broke away from us and ran like a deer. We lost him in the crowds of all those women suffragettes. Couldn’t shoot because we didn’t want to hit a tourist.” Lees finished his nails and slid the knife back into its leather sheath under his cape.
“Right. Ha! All those screaming women got us bamboozled.” Dutch laughed
“You take Kwong to the mansion, and I’ll go back and tell Smith what happened. I’ll say you’re still out there hunting for the escaped prisoner, and I just wanted to get word out for a dragnet to begin. You know Connolly will call out the cavalry on this one. The White Whale will swallow him whole if he doesn’t.” Lees stood up, as they had arrived at their stop.
As they strolled together toward the jail, Dutch began a discussion about Clara Foltz. It had been bothering him from the moment his boss decided to take sides in the trial of George Kwong. Lees had always been somewhat sympathetic to the Chinese immigrants, but it was only based on the fact he was also an immigrant, and his boss’s job went more smoothly when Lees treated the Chinese with respect. With Foltz, however, there had been an obvious change in Lees’ entire demeanor and purpose.
Dutch took out a cigar from his frock coat pocket, bit off the end, spat out the piece into the gutter, and plugged the cigar between his teeth. He grimaced, took a box of wooden matches from the same pocket, slid the drawer open, took out a single match, and struck it against a lamp post on the sidewalk. He brought the blazing match to the end of the cigar and puffed. Plumes of smoke arose all around him as he walked.
“You really enjoy the company of Missus Foltz. I never seen you so attracted to a woman before, boss. Why her?”
“I don’t really understand it myself,” Lees said, rubbing his goatee, “I suppose she’s the first woman I’ve ever met who has both brains and beauty. Also, she defends her family the way my own mother did. My mother never gave me heartache when I came to this country. She knew it was hard in England for me, and she understood my itch for adventure. That’s just the way Clara strikes me. She appreciates an adventurous heart, but she defends the hearth and home.”
“I see. I won’t be asking again,” Dutch said, puffing on his stogie as they came up to the station house on Kearny.
Lees walked up the steps and waved to his partner. “I’ll meet you back out here,” he said, pushing open the door with his shoulder.
“Okay, boss. Give them hell.” Dutch turned around and walked to the corner near a lamppost, still puffing on his cigar.
Sergeant Smith greeted Lees with, “Sherlock, where’s Watson? In the gin mill, as usual?”
“Sergeant, your perception decries the intelligence of your station. I’m here to transport Kwong over to Doctor Reed for his check-up. Dutch is outside. Can you bring him down for me, oh inspirational one?” Lees joked, hoping to keep up his casual appearance.
“Right, Captain. Goose! Bring down the dead chink. Captain’s taking him to Doc Reed.”
“The man deserves to be called by his given name, Sergeant. And, as far as I
know, he’s still on this Earth.” Lees admonished.
“Anything you say, Captain.” Smith returned to his desk.
Ten minutes later, Lees greeted the prisoner, who was in shackles around his wrists and his ankles. “Mister Goose, is it? We won’t be needing those chains. Unlock him. I take full responsibility.”
“O’Hara, Captain,” the officer said, and he looked over at Sergeant Smith. Smith nodded, and O’Hara took a key from his belt and unlocked first the wrist chain, and then bent down and unlocked the ankle chain. “You be a good boy for the Captain, now George,” he said.
Outside, on the sidewalk, Dutch was waiting for his boss and Kwong, smoking the rest of his cigar. When they walked up, he flipped the butt into the gutter. “Did Smith question your motives, boss?”
“No, he was his irritable self, but he was cooperative. We need to take Kwong down this alleyway to go to Chinatown. We can’t trust the main thoroughfare.” Lees took George Kwong’s arm and guided him toward the alley entrance. Dutch followed them.
They were almost at Portsmouth Square when Lees stopped. “I will now go back and report to the station about the escape. You take Kwong over to Nob Hill, but go by the side streets and not up California Street.”
“Where will I meet you?” Vanderheiden looked around in the shadows of the alley. He heard footsteps, coming fast and hard. Before he could get his gun out of his holster, he was tackled by a large man and held to the ground, with his arms twisted behind his back.
Lees, however, had seen the attack coming much sooner, and his .45 was drawn and pointed at the man holding his partner face-down in the dirty puddles of the alley.
“Captain! Behind you!” George Kwong shouted.
Lees spun around, slipping his Bowie knife from its sheath in the same motion. The Tong gang member screamed something in Chinese as the six-inch hatchet in his hand came up toward the captain’s throat, in an attempt to decapitate him.
In a dexterous move for his forty-nine years, Lees dropped down, and he could hear the blade pass over his head. He struck with his own knife, slicing behind the attacker’s legs, cutting into his Achilles tendons in two quick strokes. The gang member fell to his knees, screaming what Lees assumed to be curses, and grabbed at his ankles, which were now bleeding profusely.
Pointing his gun at the other attacker, Lees told George, “Tell him to let Dutch go and to stand up.”
Kwong spoke in Cantonese, and the man let go of Dutch and rose slowly, his eyes riveted on Lees’ revolver.
“Ask him what they were trying to do,” Lees said.
Again, George spoke to the uninjured Tong member, who answered, his head nodding, and his smile beaming back at them.
“He says they saw two white men taking a Chinese somewhere. That’s it. They wanted to rescue me,” said George.
“Tell them you’re already rescued and to get the hell out of here,” Lees said, flashing his badge at them from under his cape.
After George spoke to them, the two men in black hobbled off, the uninjured one assisting his partner down the alley.
“You see why we can’t have any of those Tongs around the mansion? They’re all crazy as hell,” Dutch said.
“Again, before we were so rudely interrupted, take George to Nob Hill. I’ll meet you there in about an hour, after I report his escape.” Lees began to walk down the alley back toward the district station house on Kearny.
***
Inside the mansion, Clara was at the table, drafting the advertisement she was going to include in the daily San Francisco newspapers. Ah Toy was painting beside her, swathing her brush with blue on the canvas depicting a steamship coming into San Francisco Bay. The moon was full outside and was shining into Ah Toy’s abode. Each woman, at different moments, looked up to gaze at the moon in reflection.
“Carrie, do you love him?” Ah Toy asked, adding some black to the steamship’s deck.
“We don’t know each other. Besides, we’re both working now. There has been very little time to become really close. He does fascinate me, I must admit. A man of his stature should have been married by now. Do you think it’s just because of his dangerous line of work?” Clara stopped, wrote down enough to finish her paragraph, and looked up at the moon.
“You are in just as much danger. I think it may be that very danger that has drawn you both together. Perhaps it will pass when this case is over.”
“Listen to what I have written. You’ll be teaching it, so you should be aware of how I am selling your skills.” Clara smiled. “In 1884, women still have few rights, and they have even fewer ways to earn a living. Come to our personalized appointment to see if you have the aptitude and the fortitude to benefit from our instruction. Learn from a woman who has become independently wealthy through her own initiative. She can teach you how to manipulate the patriarchal system that rules society. It’s the only way women can succeed in today’s oppressive business atmosphere.” Clara held the paper up and blew on the wet ink. “Well, what do you think?”
Ah Toy set her paintbrush down, minced over to the table and sat down next to Clara. “I like it. However, don’t you believe it would be prudent to inform these people that I’m Chinese?”
“Perhaps. After we’ve trapped the killer. You see, I believe this monster has moved out of the Chinatown hunting grounds. Since we’re located in the Hopkins Mansion, the killer might even believe he or she can murder somebody white and wealthy. This would be an important status improvement.” Clara took her friend’s hands. “Because I am the only one who knows who this murderer is, I will have to be present during all of the interviews.”
“All right. I understand that. You mentioned—or somebody mentioned—that the killer may be wearing a disguise. How will you be able to identify this person? Also, don’t you think he or she will have to kill us both?” Ah Toy raised her eyebrows and squeezed Clara’s hands.
“Of course. That would be mandatory, under the circumstances. But don’t worry, Ah Toy, I have a few ways to physically recognize our culprit.”
Ah Toy stood up. “We had better leave now. Our men should be returning with Bai Kwong soon. I really enjoyed the excuse you gave to Missus Hopkins and the servants as to what will be happening when they bring another Chinese into the mansion.”
“I think it stands to reason, don’t you? You’re an artist, and your subject matter features everything Asian. We have employed a few models for your use. You’ll be creating your masterpiece. Chinese Lawbreaker. George shall be the young miscreant, and Captain Lees and Detective Vanderheiden will pose as the arresting officers. I believe even Shakespeare would approve of this extra bit of ironic art within our larger play.” Clara stood up and walked with her friend to the door.
“This will be art imitating life,” Ah Toy smiled.
***
The evening fog was rolling in as Dutch escorted George Kwong onto Sacramento Street leading up from Chinatown to Nob Hill. They then crossed over to California Street and arrived at the Hopkins Mansion. It was a steep incline, and they were both winded when the guard at the mansion finally let them through.
The man servant, Hannigan, met them at the front door. Taking a cue from Ah Toy, he shouted up the stairs, “Miss Ah Toy! Your models are here! Shall I escort them up to the Observatory?”
Ah Toy and Clara were standing on the second floor. Ah Toy looked through the spiral staircase leading down to the main entrance and saw Hannigan standing with George Kwong and Detective Vanderheiden. She cupped her mouth and shouted down, “We’ll meet you there.” Both of their voices echoed back-and-forth through the dark and eerie mansion like wailing ghosts.
***
Back at the Jenny Lind City Hall station, Captain Lees had informed Sheriff Connolly of the escape of his prisoner. Although he fumed, and immediately wired the Mayor, Washington Bartlett, Connolly seemed to have accepted the logic behind Kwong’s escape. He even understood the ruse about not wanting to fire at th
e fleeing prisoner because of the many tourists in the streets, although he had his own perspective. “You should have shot anyway, Lees,” Connolly barked. “What’s a few dead suffragettes? They make more trouble than they’re worth.”
After the mayor’s office was in communication with Connolly, all hell broke loose. The sheriff began running around the bullpen, shouting orders, and slamming his fist on the desks of the officers.
As he burst open the door to the Chinatown Squad Office, he discovered his protégé, Jesse Brown Cook, on his knees with a young uniformed officer. They were praying. “Get up, Cook! That chink Kwong is on the loose! He broke away from Lees and Vanderheiden on the way to see Doc Reed. Mayor Bartlett wants a dragnet on the whole city. He probably took off for chinkville, so you take your men and comb every building in that infested pig sty. Start with Andrew Kwong’s place on Sacramento.”
“Don’t worry, Sheriff,” Cook said, as he strapped his holster around his waist and pulled on his tiger hat. “We’ll root out that godless murderer. I know every secret hiding place in Chinatown.”
“I’m going to find my partner, Sheriff. If he’s recaptured Kwong, or knows where he’s headed, I’ll be back to inform you.” Lees watched Cook as he herded his men near the door. He thought they looked like clowns in P. T. Barnum’s Greatest Show on Earth. They were certainly clumsy and ineffective, as they pushed and shoved each other going out into the street. Lees followed them out, chuckling to himself.
***
Inside the Observatory room, Clara and Ah Toy were busy discussing how they were going to carry out their ruse. George Kwong, of course, needed new clothes, although his jail garb was explained by the role he was going to be playing as a model for the Chinese Lawbreaker painting. Hannigan had seen much stranger goings on working for the eccentric Missus Hopkins, including live peacocks strutting throughout the halls, and a troupe of Chinese acrobats. He was happy to go get the new clothing for George.
“Thank you, Hannigan,” Ah Toy said.
When the butler left, Ah Toy turned to Clara and said, “You have to realize all that you have done, Carrie. You are saving your client’s life, but you are also showing other women what can be done if you believe in justice and human rights. So much of the world is dominated by power and influence and not by principles.” Ah Toy said, as she set up her easel and color palette under the skylight.
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