Lincoln turned his face away, lest Hertz or Caruso see the pain in his eyes.
"Anch'io vorrei dormir così / nel sonno almen l'oblio trovar."
And I would like to sleep like that / at least to find the sweet oblivion of slumber.
Hertz leaned close. "The gift of Caruso. He tells us our own stories, as though we are the only one to whom he sings."
Lincoln looked at Caruso, a beatific smile on the tenor's face as he soared gracefully, powerfully between the notes. In that moment, Lincoln understood what Kaitlin sought, why she would forsake her family.
The sweet oblivion of dreams.
Lincoln looked back at Hertz and nodded. He would stay close to Caruso. If he could not find his fearless and resourceful daughter in the crowded city, she would find her way to Caruso. Lincoln would be waiting.
In San Francisco, Kaitlin's dream was beginning to sour. She had left her exhilarating tour of the Palace Hotel hours earlier to ride the California Street cable car, marveling at the mansions of Nob Hill.
She had pressed her face to the window of the Ocean Beach trolley as it wended past the majestic cypress trees of the Sunset District to the Cliff House and Sutro Baths. Indulging in a two-dollar Hansom ride through Golden Gate Park, she stopped at the Japanese Gardens, at the giant lilies and the exotic Palace of Flowers. People stared at the unescorted girl, but she ignored them.
After taking the Sutter Street trolley back to Union Square, the warning of young bellhop Andrew Tavish began to haunt her. There was nary a hotel room anywhere. The few that did have a vacancy would not rent to a single woman.
And darkness was quickly setting in.
Using a directory she had bought at a tobacco shop, she called at the cheap boardinghouses south of Market Street. Her fashionable attire, with the jaunty broad-brimmed hat and wasp-waisted jacket, was out of place in the gritty neighborhood.
Young men on the stoops of tenements whistled and called suggestively as she passed. She clutched her drawstring purse and carpetbag and walked forcefully toward the waterfront, each street growing a little darker.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but we have nothing."
"Ain't had a room for rent in weeks."
"Been booked ever since the papers said Caruso was coming."
"We ain't lookin' for no trouble rentin' to a girl all by herself."
She worked her way down Howard and Folsom, then to Harrison and Bryant, past warehouses and foundries to the Southern Pacific Railroad Depot on Townsend. She slumped on the limestone steps of a nearby plumbing warehouse. Her feet ached inside her misshapen boots and everything was stiff from the four days she had spent sleeping upright on the train. She thought of telephoning Jeremy Darling, but knew the assistant professor of geology lived in a guest residence restricted to the University's male personnel.
From the corner of her eye she noticed a flickering light in the doorway of O'Connor's Cartage. A bearded man held a match to a companion's cigarette. Both were staring in her direction.
She raised her bag and shouldered her purse and headed up Townsend Street, away from the bustling train station.
At Fifth, she turned north and began walking briskly back toward Market. She looked over her shoulder and shuddered at the sight of the two men, bearded and sallow-faced, following through the eerie glow of the street lamps. The shorter one dragged his right leg behind him.
She quickened her pace and crossed to the other side of Fifth. They crossed the street behind her.
A knot tightened in her stomach. Kaitlin hitched her dress and ducked around the corner at Bryant, stealing a look over her shoulder as she trotted nervously across the street.
Her pursuers followed.
Her apprehension turned to fear. She thought to drop the carpetbag, but it contained everything she owned.
"Ma'am," one of the men yelled, closing within twenty feet of her. "Slow down, ma'am. You new in town, ain't ya?"
She turned to face them.
The shorter man, the one with the limp, wore a half-fallen face and dangling arm, as though the entire left side of his body had failed him. The side of his face that worked was leering and ominous.
The tall man bore a pockmarked face and a mouth devoid of teeth. Kaitlin swallowed and stood her ground, raising her head in defiance. "You lookin' for a place?" the tall man asked. "We seen you comin' out a boardin' house. We got us a place where you kin stay. Real nice place."
A rollicking laugh rattled him, disintegrating into a soggy hack. Spittle and flecks of tobacco landed on his beard as he moved to Kaitlin's right. His partner circled to her left.
"Whatsa matter, young lady?" the tall man asked. "Cat got your tongue?"
Kaitlin clutched her carpetbag and purse as her heart pounded wildly.
"Whatsa matter, you deef?" the tall one cackled. "We seen your bag, the nice duds you'se wearin'. You must have just come in from somewheres."
"Thanks for the offer. I'd really hate to barge in on you fellas and impose like that. You two look real happy together."
They looked at each other, confused by the inference.
"My father's a sheriff. I'm going to meet him here."
"That so? Too bad he ain't around now." The tall man leaned close, reeking of booze and moldy sweat. "Purty girl like you needs a daddy lookin' after her."
Kaitlin dropped the carpetbag and a groan escaped her lips as they jerked her backward into the shadows of an alley.
The gimp-legged man ripped her purse away while his tall, toothless partner pawed her blouse with filthy hands.
"I like me some nice big teats," said the gimpy one.
She jammed both hands into the chest of the taller man, driving him backward.
"Is this what you want?" she said, running her hand over her breasts. "Huh? Is this what you're after?"
The tall man and his partner looked at each other, tantalized by Kaitlin's response.
"Why be nasty about it, gents? Why not just have us some fun?"
"Now you're bein' sensible-like. We all have us a good time, ain't nobody gets hurt."
The sight of Kaitlin's pale skin and swelling bosom inflamed them. The tall man reached between his legs and rubbed vigorously.
Kaitlin inched back and popped the top button of her blouse, then quickly the second and the third, exposing a lacy camisole. "You boys ain't never seen any nicer than this."
The tall man lurched forward as Kaitlin eased her hand inside her blouse, her lilac-scented hair arousing him further.
She reached her left hand behind his head and pulled him closer. With his head six inches from her surging breast, she seized his hair and jammed a derringer between his eyes.
"How'd you like me to blow your little pea brain clean out of your skull?"
The sound of scuffling boots echoed softly as the gimp dragged himself down Bryant Street.
She thumbed the trigger back.
"Now, I asked a question, you rummy piece of filth. You wanna run or die?"
She tightened her grip on his hair, moving the derringer to his temple so as not to shoot her hand if she decided to pull the trigger.
He raised his hands. "No. Please. We was just funnin'."
"Funnin'? Maybe I should go easy then and just blow your balls off."
"No. No. Don't shoot. Please!"
She slid her fingers free and stepped back, gripping the derringer with both hands. The man cringed, half-closing his eyes.
"Run, you miserable snake. You hear me? You run and don't stop runnin' til you find the hole you crawled out of."
The tall man eased back, head down, hands still raised.
"RUN YOU BASTARD!"
He turned and sprinted away, stumbling several times. In seconds he had crossed Bryant Street, narrowly avoiding a collision with an overloaded dray from Hotaling's Whiskey.
Kaitlin caught her breath and reached down for her purse. She froze, realizing the gimpy man had it. She searched frantically in the shadows, praying aloud.
Re
signed that it was gone, Kaitlin lifted the carpetbag and broke into a trot she did not abandon until she made it back to the lights of busy Market Street.
She collapsed on a trolley bench, too angry to cry.
Chapter 26
UNION SQUARE
APRIL 16, 1906. 7:00 P.M.
Hunter stopped the Waltham in front of the City of Paris on Geary Street, where I climbed off and discreetly attempted to rub the painful tingling sensation from my legs.
The streets were overflowing with people streaming to the Nickelodeon a block away or to dinner at the crowded restaurants and cafés scattered near Union Square. Caruso's imminent arrival had invigorated the City
"This is crazy, Annalisa, you can't show up at the Opera House. If they were onto my father, they could easily be onto you."
"If I don't show, Rolf will suspect me for sure. If he does have those papers, I'll see it in his face."
"Look, I'm sorry, Annalisa, I didn't mean to insinuate earlier...."
"I would give my life to bring your father back. Don't ever question me again."
His head dropped a notch or two. I took his hand and stared at him until he raised his chin and looked back at me. The feelings I had for him rose through the fear. I resisted the urge to kiss him.
"We'll finish this for your father. It will be a different city when Caruso leaves, Hunter."
"Then take a Hansom after the opera and meet me at the Conservatory of Flowers, Annalisa. I'll follow and make sure no one is tailing you. We need to be certain no one is onto you yet."
I abandoned my constraint, kissed his cheek and ran toward the City of Paris.
I took the elevator to the women's department on the third floor. Donatella, a petite woman from Valle d'Aosta, a region in northeastern Italy where they speak both French and Italian, greeted me with her usual smile.
"Mr. Rolf, he is want me to choose something very special for you tonight, Annalisa."
"How nice. I'll have something special for him very shortly."
Several blocks away, Fire Chief Dennis Sullivan and his wife Maggie left Hoffman's Grill and crossed Market onto Bush Street. It was rare that they would eat out on a weeknight, but the heat in their small apartment on the third floor of the fire station made the thought of cooking unappealing.
"You've been distant all night, Dennis."
"It's this horrible situation with Byron Fallon. I feel like the heart has been cut right out of me. How long can this continue?"
She squeezed his arm for comfort as they walked.
"Mr. Spreckels invited us to his box to see Carmen tomorrow night," he said.
"Dennis. We have an invitation to hear Enrico Caruso sing and you're just now telling me?"
Maggie Sullivan knew better than press the issue. Opera and Caruso and fancy dress occasions meant little to him.
They crossed Dupont Street, the gateway to Chinatown, and were about to enter the firehouse when the roar of a motorcycle approached. "Go on upstairs, Maggie. I'll be up in a few minutes."
Sullivan walked to the curb and waited for Hunter to kill the engine. "I need your help, Chief Sullivan. My father was murdered and I can prove it."
Sullivan seemed none too surprised. "Why don't you come upstairs, Hunter? There are some things you should know."
Chapter 27
CHINATOWN
APRIL 16, 1906. 7:10 P.M.
Tommy guided the Rolls Royce through the Broadway tunnel and turned right on Dupont, scattering Chinatown pedestrians in front of him. In the back seat, Adam Rolf and Eugene Schmitz had barely spoken since they left the mayor's house.
"You sure you want to do this now, Adam?" Schmitz asked. "With all the newspapers in an uproar, perhaps a low profile would be in order."
"You miss the point, Eugene. Who has the power to challenge us with the meddling Lieutenant gone? Feeney? Fallon's hot-headed son Christian and those idiot crusaders in The Brotherhood?"
"And you still maintain you had nothing to do with it?"
"You know I despise redundancy."
Tommy jerked the Rolls to a stop in front of the Jade Dragon, Madame Ah Toy's restaurant.
A Hop Sing Tong enforcer in skull cap, black silk blouse, and braided queue opened the gilded door and led Rolf, Schmitz, and Tommy into the busy restaurant. They passed through the crowded kitchen and up the back stairs, crossing a rickety bridge above an outdoor courtyard to the loft of a faded brick warehouse.
On the warehouse floor below, Ting Leo stood among the four-dozen girls, all still weak and bandy-legged from the ordeal at sea.
One by one, each was forced to disrobe while a Chinese doctor checked their teeth for rot, their hair for lice, and their skin for lesions. He ordered a trembling girl of perhaps ten to sit in a tall wooden chair while two of Ah Toy's houseboys spread her ankles apart. By the light of a flickering candle the doctor determined her maiden was intact. Several of the girls sobbed as they moved down the line in the doctor's direction.
Ting Leo gazed at the loft above where two men in black coats and a burly man in a gray cap stared down at them. She caught the cold gaze of the shortest man, the one with the thick mustache and watery eyes. She glowered and made a spitting gesture in his direction.
Rolf smiled as Ah Toy arrived at his side. Ting Leo, a half a head taller and more developed than the other girls, was ordered to disrobe. Rolf watched intently as she pulled her sack dress over her head and threw it on the floor defiantly.
"She is beautiful girl, yes?" Ah Toy asked, her dark eyes impassive in the rice-powdered face. She turned her gaze to Schmitz, who looked away uncomfortably.
Rolf watched intently as the doctor pulled Ting Leo's mouth open, exposing rows of perfect teeth, then checked her arms and legs for deformities.
She had been spared the barbaric practice of the "lily foot," unlike several of the other girls, their feet bound in infancy so that the bones fused together, the toes jammed between the metatarsals, the toenails curled like ram's horns and imbedded in the purplish lumps.
Ting Leo's strong shoulders and wide, calloused feet showed that her father had chosen instead to use her in the fields.
When she was placed on the chair and her ankles jerked apart, Schmitz turned on his heels and stalked away, much to Rolf's amusement.
"You are right, Madame Ah Toy," Rolf said. "She is splendid."
"I send her you first, Mister Rolf, as gesture of our friendship and good business together."
"I will return her in excellent health."
The houseboys released Ting Leo's ankles and she climbed down from the chair.
Rolf handed Ah Toy a bulging portfolio.
"Here are forty-five work permits, two hundred dollars each."
"Two time what I pay last shipment."
"It's an expensive city, Ah Toy. This lot will fetch you a handsome price at auction."
Ah Toy nodded for Quong Lee, her burly foreman and principal enforcer, who handed a leather pouch to his mistress. She removed several packets of one hundred dollar bills and handed them to Rolf.
"Nine thousand dollar, Mr. Rolf."
"I hear you're attending the opera," Rolf replied, tucking the money inside his jacket. "I hope you'll stop by my home afterward for a reception I am having for Caruso. I believe in promoting harmonious relationships between our different cultures."
"Thank you, Mr. Rolf. I am delighted."
"Frankly, I was unaware the Oriental ear is so finely tuned to the subtleties of Italian opera."
"Is shortcoming of ours. I think all this time Carmen is in French." Rolf fumed at being corrected. He bowed almost imperceptibly, and then followed Tommy back the way they came.
When the doctor finished with the last of the auction girls, a houseboy led him to a small storeroom where the two girls who had been recreation for the Falmouth crew were kept.
The doctor examined the whimpering girls while Ting Leo watched from the corner of the hallway. When the old man finished, he shook his head and walked
away, reducing the girls to tearful shrieks.
The houseboy yelled for the girls to be quiet, then led them down a dirt passageway to a smaller storeroom, where he opened a heavy padlock and ordered them inside. They wailed and pleaded, sagging to their knees.
He shoved them inside and ordered them to lie on the small wooden bunks that lined one wall, explaining the doctor would return to treat them. He set a small rusty bucket full of water inside and lit a candle in a holder on the floor, creating eerie strips of light between the slats of the bunks. He closed the door and locked the padlock.
Ting Leo slipped away, certain she would never see the girls again. On Dupont Street, Schmitz was waiting near the curb when Rolf and Tommy emerged.
"Eugene! Such an interesting range of emotions this week. Now you look positively penitent."
"They're children, Adam. They're Chinese, but they're still children for God's sake."
"It never bothered you as long as they were out of sight in these dirty little barracoons. As long as you got your share."
"Very clever. Now that you rubbed my nose in it, I've gone from accessory to accomplice. It makes me wonder what you might have achieved if this cleverness had been used in service to humanity."
"And now you're having Father Yorke compose your speeches. You really do need a vacation, Eugene, you're bordering on irrational."
Chapter 28
GRAND OPERA HOUSE
APRIL 16, 1906. 8:10 P.M.
The orchestra was already playing when I hurried up the marble stairway toward Adam Rolf's box, wondering if my name would soon be moving from the opera page to the obituaries, a fear I had downplayed with Hunter lest I add to his concerns.
From the moment I had gotten the job reviewing for the Bulletin, I had been wary of Rolf's attention, though his patronage as President of the Opera Association was essential to my work. The previous night, I inflamed his attentions with my gift of the silver watch chain, and now he might have discovered I was his betrayer.
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