by Taylor Lee
“Tell me about Aldo Marcello.”
Jeng Ming started, as though surprised at his direct question. She took a large swallow of brandy and asked derisively, “What do you want to know? How he kills people? Or how he fucks them?”
Ignoring Elena and Lei’s audible gasps, Bai kept his steady gaze on Jeng Ming’s face.
“I imagine there isn’t much difference between the two, yes?”
Jeng Ming frowned, and for the first time Bai saw a flash of pain pierce the angry veil in her eyes. She looked at him for a moment, then stared down at her hands. After a long moment of silence, she spoke in a monotone.
“He is an evil man, a cruel man. It is difficult to put in words the extent of his cruelty.”
Bai asked, “Is his cruelty directed primarily to women?”
She shook her head.
“No, he is cruel to everyone. Even his most trusted men are afraid of him.”
“Hmm, go on.”
She hesitated and with a grimace said, “He never just kills a person. He tortures them first, in hideous ways.”
She laughed a bitter laugh.
“He is very creative. Screams excite him. I have watched him orgasm hearing the terrified screams of his victims. And he insists that he have an audience. He knows the best way to keep his sycophants in line is to terrify them, show them what will happen if they disobey him.”
“I see.
“Tell me what he does to women.”
She snorted and guffawed.
“He doesn’t ‘do’ anything to ‘women,’ only to girls, the younger the better. He only likes virgins. He despises whores. Says they are dirty, used. Most important, they aren’t afraid enough—at least at first.”
She shuddered and was quiet for a moment. A shadow passed over her face.
“There was one woman, a friend of mine, she was a whore. For some reason, he wanted her. She looked young. He tortured her so bad that she killed herself – drank a whole bottle of laudanum -- rather than go back to his bed.”
Bai puffed on his cigar, waiting for her to continue.
She was silent for several minutes. When she spoke it was almost a whisper.
“The young girls, the virgins…he uses things, sticks and…instruments… pokers… to fuck them before he does. He says the little cunts are so stupid that they don’t know how to make their pussies wet for him. He laughs after he uses his instruments…says blood is as good a lubricant as anything.”
Jeng Ming’s face tightened and Bai could see in her eyes that she was remembering the horrors she had witnessed. Shaking off the sick feeling welling up in his gut, he focused on the task ahead.
He glanced at Wyatt and saw his imperceptible nod. Bai took a deep breath and kept his face and voice impassive.
“What--besides you--does Aldo value?”
Jeng Ming jerked in surprise but seeing Bai’s emotionless face, she hesitated then laughed--a harsh, mirthless sound.
“His daughters.”
“Hmm, really?”
“Yes, and his four grandchildren.”
“I see. How old are his daughters?”
“The oldest is two years older than me. Her sister is a year older than I am.”
Bai nodded. “And his grandchildren?”
“They range between eight and two. There are two boys, two girls.”
When she hesitated, Bai waited until she looked at him then holding her gaze, said, “Please continue.”
She stared at him for a moment, then shrugged as though her revelation shouldn’t be a surprise.
“All four of them bear a remarkable resemblance to their grandfather.”
A hard scornful look crossed her face, She grinned at Bai, a sly ugly grin.
“At least you won’t have to worry about jealous husbands.”
Bai pushed down the rage he felt rising like bile in his throat. He puffed on his cigar, allowing the calming smoke to counter the anger washing over him.
“Do you know where they are? The daughters? The grandchildren?”
She sniffed dismissively.
“Yes. I grew up with them. I was their playmate.”
Bai kept his face and voice neutral. “How did you end up with Marcello?”
Jeng Ming looked up at him. Only his compassion for her kept him from dropping his eyes when he saw the pain in hers. Her haughtiness, her anger, was gone. In its place was raw anguish. He held her gaze willing her to continue. It was the two of them now. She was looking at him as though she was clinging to him, a beacon of strength, sanity in an evil world.
He nodded to her and said quietly, “I’m here, Jeng Ming.”
She trembled and gripped the arms of her chair, her fingers white with strain. She took several deep breaths. With a sigh, she said, “I was born there.”
A long moment passed. Her face was pale, her voice soft.
“My mother…my mother was his whore. For many years. Before he went crazy, like he is now.”
“Is your mother still there?”
She shook her head and once again she was silent then said, “No.”
Bai waited, letting his gaze surround her, as though he had his arms around her. His voice was gentle.
“What happened to her? To your mother?’
In a barely audible whisper, Jeng Ming said, “He killed her. Slit her throat. After he tied her up and made her watch him rape me…when I was eleven.”
She looked down at her hands and held them tight, trying to stop them from shaking. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the grandfather clock that graced the far wall.
Bai looked more closely at her features and exchanged a pained look with Wyatt. Choosing not to ask the obvious question, he asked instead a seeming non sequitur.
“What are the daughters’ names?”
Jeng Ming tossed her head dismissively with a harsh laugh. “He called one Mary; the other one Madonna.”
“Hmm. What did he call you?”
“Magdalene.”
Ignoring the soft sobs he heard from both Lei and Elena, Bai pushed a piece of paper and a pen across the desk to Jeng Ming.
“Are they all in the same place, the daughters and the children?”
“No, he has four private residences that he uses to sequester them. He keeps them in different places and continually moves them from one place to the other. He never keeps all of them in the same place at one time.”
Bai nodded and pointed to the paper.
“Please write down all four addresses.”
While she was writing, Bai turned to Wyatt and Nianzu.
“Who is the best one to handle this? Tom? Peter?”
Wyatt responded.
“Tom is the best person to oversee it. He has the resources and the people in place to complete the job.”
Bai handed the addresses to Nianzu.
“Send an urgent telegram to Tom with these addresses. Tell him I want the job done no later than eight p.m. tonight.”
Nianzu was halfway to the door before Bai finished issuing his orders.
Bai refilled his glass and raised the decanter of brandy to Jeng Ming and Wyatt; both nodded their assent. Without speaking, Elena came over to the desk and poured two glasses of brandy. She handed one to Lei, who took it with a grateful nod. Elena tossed her draft back with a quick swallow and refilled her glass.
Bai sipped on his brandy and resisted lighting another cigar. Instead, he faced Jeng Ming without buffers. He spoke to her in a quiet, controlled voice.
“Jeng Ming, I cannot take away the past. I cannot erase the horrors you have seen, the pain you have experienced. I can only tell you how much I admire and respect you. Your courage is equal to that of my most courageous battle hardened warriors. You have survived horrors that would have killed or crippled most people. But you survived and for that and so much more, I honor you.”
He stood and bowed low to her. Wyatt, Lei, and Elena all stood and did the same. Jeng Ming was surprised. She looked from one to the o
ther, then stood and returned their bow. She reached for the edge of the desk to steady herself and closed her eyes tightly, squeezing back tears that threatened to fall.
Bai waited until she looked back at him and locked in on her gaze.
“I will also tell you that Aldo Marcello will die a painful death. Soon. His death, as hideous as it will be, cannot take away what you have suffered or the evil he has done to you and others. It is the most we can do now.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. Bai ached, seeing the pain on her face. It was as though she had shed a thick layer of skin. She was like an injured snake capable only of roughing off lone chunks of skin at a time. Just the flash of hope in her eyes when she looked at Bai hinted at the rainbow coloration possible beneath. Instead of the hard, scornful woman who had walked in the room, she looked like what she was – a young girl who had been terribly wounded. Bai wanted her to know that for the first time, she didn’t have to face the world alone. He chose his words carefully.
“One final thing, Jeng Ming. Wyatt, Nianzu, and I and every man who rides with us – and we are a world wide force – will protect you as long as you live. No one will hurt you again. That is my sacred pledge to you.”
Wyatt shared a glance with Lei and Elena, neither of whom were trying to hide the tears flowing down their cheeks. He looked down at the tiny young woman next to him. He reached out and wrapped his strong arms around her. When she tried to push him away, he pulled her close to him and held her as her sobs wracked her small body.
Wyatt’s usual twinkle was gone. His voice was gruff.
“Honey, I want you to know that Bai isn’t exaggerating. Our men are in every country on earth. We are Chinese, every variety of white man and a couple of fierce Indian tribes thrown in for good measure. Every one of us will protect you with our lives--the way we do Lei and Elena. And each of us will do our damndest to convince you that those evil assholes you have lived with are an aberration. I hope to hell you will give the rest of the male gender a chance to prove we are worthy of you.”
Jeng Ming stood quietly for a moment, then pulled away from him. She didn’t try to wipe away the tears on her face. The pain and anguish were gone, but once again were masked by a protective layer of disdain. She squared her slender shoulders and bowed to Bai and nodded to the others. Without speaking, she turned and walked out of the room, her head held high.
~~~
Later that evening, Carlos drew up to his full height. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door to Aldo’s private quarters. He was greeted with a torrent of Aldo’s prime invective.
“Goddamn you, Carlos, you fucking son of a bitch. What the hell do you want and it goddamn well better be good. You know better than to interrupt me when I’m breaking in a cunt!”
Carlos stared at the furious little man in front of him, then looked away in disgust. Aldo’s trousers were hovering at his ankles and his shriveled up prick was sticky with dark residue. Carlos averted his eyes and tried to ignore the moans of the young girl lying on the floor, a pool of blood between her thighs. One of the tools Aldo used to prepare his virgins for his assaults was lying beside her. Like the young girl and the ugly little man who had used it on her, the iron rod was covered with blood and feces.
Carlos’s voice was grave.
“Aldo, you need to call back our men, the ones we’ve sicced on the Frenchman.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? You stupid piece of horse shit, you…”
He stopped in midsentence when Carlos handed him a large folder.
Aldo’s face was dark with fury. He ripped open the folder and dumped a stack of photographs on the table. His face turned a ghastly shade of white when he saw what they were. One by one, he laid them out on the table and looked in horror at close up pictures of his daughters and his four grandchildren. The pictures showed them laughing, playing or talking to one another, all clearly unconcerned about the photographer taking their pictures. Aldo realized with a sickening jolt, the photographer was someone close to them, so familiar he wouldn’t have caused alarm. On each picture, an address was written in the margin showing the location of the subjects.
Trembling with rage, Aldo knew he had at least four informants, traitors in his midst close to his virgin daughters and his holy grandchildren. When he thought about the danger they faced, he was overcome by fear, an emotion he didn’t recognize, it had been so long since he felt it
Aldo’s hands were shaking and it took him a moment to open the folded note. Spreading it on the table he read:
“I look forward to making each of their acquaintances.
At the time and place of my choosing.
The Frenchman.”
~~
Chapter 15
The next morning, the complex was a flurry of activity preparing for the wedding the next day. The excitement was palpable from one end of the complex to the other. A cacophony of voices rang out across the villa, everyone eager to do their part to make the celebration as festive and glorious as possible.
The wedding would be in the main garden bordering a small pool. The pool was an engineering masterpiece. Looking for all the world as though it had been there since Eden, the Chinese gardeners had created a seven layered spring fed pool filled with exotic fish, lush vegetation and an elaborate rock waterfall. A discreet system of lights showcased the unique plants and water life.
Workmen had strung hundreds of Chinese lanterns and positioned candles throughout the gardens and surrounding patios. The gardeners had been working for months to ensure that the flowers in the main gardens were varieties that would bloom at the time of the wedding and all of the plants flowered as expected. The result was a riot of colors and exotic scents that ravished the senses of all who passed by. Rare, colorful birds imported from China and the East Indies hovered in exotic trees and bushes, an open aviary for the precious birds and insects that graced their branches.
Bai and Elena were determined that their wedding would be a private affair—the only invitees were individuals who lived at the complex. Given that there were over a hundred servants and workers, as well as a hundred or so Sing Leon members present at the compound at any one time, the “guest” list included several hundred people, and that was before the influx of the young Chinese prostitutes.
Given the growing numbers, Bai and Elena decided to say their vows before three traditional altars under a leafy arched bower to the side of the pool in the presence of their immediate family, which included Wan, Wyatt, Lei, Elena’s brothers, Nianzu, and Quitin. The rest of the celebration, which was sure to be spectacular, would include all 200-300 ‘residents.’”
Rather than being problematic, the addition of the young Chinese girls added a prescient clarity to the celebration. While Bai and Elena would be celebrating their love and the beginning of their married life together, the presence of the girls was a stark reminder of what their life together was likely to be. It underscored the danger that would always be present in the life of the Frenchman and his bride. In a perverse way, it also highlighted the hideousness and depravity of the world around them. But the overriding message of the young girls was the power Bai and Elena had to use their formidable resources to light the darkness. It was an inspiring message and a challenge to the bride and groom of their obligations and opportunities.
In a practical sense, the presence of the girls turned months of detailed minute by minute planning upside down and every one from the cooks, servants, and healers to the workmen and guards were scrambling to fulfill the new requirements. But the challenge was a welcome one, and to a person, the household pulled together to make this celebration one that no one, particularly the young girls, had ever seen or were likely to see again.
That morning, cartloads of boxes from every dressmaker in the city of San Francisco began arriving at the villa. Elena and Lei had spent hours the day before contacting clothing stores and dressmakers, ordering clothes for the girls. With the help of Jeng Ming and multilingual serva
nts, Elena created a chart indicating the age and measurements of each of the girls. She insisted that each girl was to have three sets of underwear, a nightgown, two “practical” dresses, pants and a blouse, and, of course, a spectacular dress for the wedding. Naturally, ribbons, appropriate jewelry, and other accessories were also on the list.
When Bai heard her plans, he shook his head in wonder at the woman he was about to marry. At breakfast, he turned to Wyatt in mock dismay.
“Mon Dieu, Wyatt, do you realize the force of will, Christ, the force of nature, she is? Not only did she conceive of such an impossible plan, but we both know she will pull it off!”
Wyatt, Wan, and Alex all smiled with pride and nodded their agreement.
Wyatt said with a wry grin, “You are forgetting that Wan, Alex, and I have dealt with Elena’s impossible plans since she could walk, and every one of us will tell you God help anyone who stands in her way. A word of warning, Bai. When that stubborn chin goes up and those sapphire eyes start to flash, my advice is that you make a graceful retreat and get the hell out of her way!”
Bai was glad when Alex, who had been quiet and distant for the last two days, joined in the admiring laughter of the other men and smiled at Elena when she turned and threw him a raffish wink.