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Through the Shadows

Page 9

by Barnett, Karen;


  Elizabeth’s mouth went dry. She’d read too many stories from the Mission’s ledger to imagine anything but the worst. Another child slave?

  Donaldina and Kum Yong approached a corner store, its windows filled with bundles of dried plants and strange packages Elizabeth couldn’t identify. Spicy smells drifted through the air as she followed the women inside. She fought the urge to reach for a handkerchief.

  A young man bustled around the counter to greet them, a white apron tied around his middle. “Miss Cameron, Kum Yong, so good of you to come. Are you in need of remedies today?” He swung his arm around, gesturing to the wares crowding the tiny shop. “How is your gout? Has the aniseed tea eased the trouble?”

  Donaldina bobbed her head in respect. “You are a good friend, George. The tea has been a delight. I’ve never felt better.” She lifted a gloved hand toward Elizabeth. “I’d like you to meet our new teacher, Miss King. I am introducing her to the sights and sounds of Chinatown. Elizabeth, this is George Wu. He knows everything one could know about Chinese medicine and herbs.”

  Elizabeth mustered a smile. “I’m very honored to meet you, Mr. Wu.”

  The storekeeper chuckled. “No ‘mister,’ please. Call me George. Everyone does. My father ran the store until we lost everything in the big quake. I’ve rebuilt from the ground up, with many modern features. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

  “Your store appears very . . .” she glanced around at the towering shelves and the stacked barrels containing mysterious items, “well-stocked.” Robert might have a different opinion on some of the young apothecary’s pharmaceutical offerings. It would certainly be a fun story to share with him.

  Kum Yong stood in the doorway, watching the sidewalk outside.

  Donaldina lowered her voice. “George, you must know why we’re here.”

  The man rubbed a hand across his chin. “I heard about Tien Gum. Such a shame.” He ducked behind the counter and retrieved a piece of robin’s-egg-blue paper and a pencil. Scribbling a quick note, his face grew grim. “These are trying times. It’s not wise to challenge the tongs. They grow more violent each passing day.”

  A tremor passed through Elizabeth’s chest. Was this a warning or a veiled threat? She glanced at Donaldina, but the missionary’s face betrayed no concern.

  Donaldina lifted a bottle from the counter. “You carry orange bitters now? I’m much in need of some. A few of the little ones have been complaining of sour stomachs.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, adding a few more scratches to the note. “Yes, but I can recommend something better.” The shopkeeper reached under the counter and pulled out a red paper box. “I think you’ll find this to be more effective. I’ve been saving it for you.”

  She took the box and peeked under the lid. A smile creased her face. “You always know best.” She reached into her reticule, retrieved a few coins, and pressed them into his hand. She lowered her voice. “Thank you.”

  The shopkeeper darted a glance around the store before offering a quick nod. “Always a pleasure. If you see no improvement, come back tomorrow. I’ll find something else.”

  Donaldina tipped her head, the striped feathers on her hat bobbing with the motion. “Tomorrow.” She gestured to Elizabeth and Kum Yong and headed for the door.

  “Send my girl my love, Miss Cameron.”

  Donaldina’s eyes softened. “Of course.” She turned for the door.

  His girl? Elizabeth cast one last glance at the shopkeeper. Did Miss Cameron allow men to court the Mission girls? He seemed like a nice enough fellow.

  He nodded at Elizabeth, a twinkle in his eye. “Welcome to Chinatown, young miss.”

  She hurried to join Donaldina and Kum Yong on the sidewalk. “Did you learn anything?”

  Donaldina lifted the folded note. “I think so. But let’s wait until we return to 920.” She tucked it and the red box into her basket. Grasping Elizabeth’s arm, she strode down the cobblestone street. “Now, let’s find something for supper, shall we? I believe we’re low on some basics.”

  The three women purchased a few items in the shops lining the narrow street, Donaldina pointing out some of the brothels and gambling houses masquerading as legitimate businesses.

  Donaldina stopped to barter at one of the corner market stands while Elizabeth and Kum Yong walked ahead. Kum Yong paused at the entrance to a dark alley, turning to Elizabeth. “Can you smell it?”

  “Duck, again?” Chinatown proved to be a feast for the senses.

  “No, the other.” Kum Yong lifted her chin, sniffing the light breeze.

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to distinguish the strange combination of odors. “Something sweet?”

  Kum Yong inclined her head toward a nearby door topped with red Chinese characters. “Opium.”

  Elizabeth covered her nose. “And no one does anything about it?”

  “The police don’t much care.” She pointed out a few more doors leading to not-so-secret opium dens. “Not so many now, since the earthquake. But it’s still in much demand. Many girls who come to us can’t loosen opium’s hold. I’m glad I was too young to have dealt with it.”

  “How old were you when you came to the Mission?” Elizabeth stepped away from the alley.

  “Only eight. Not much older than Yoke Soo. I was Mui Tsai—child slave. I took care of the mistress’s baby and did household chores. At least until I was old enough to be ready for other work.” Her nose wrinkled.

  Elizabeth’s throat tightened as she gazed at the well-spoken young woman. It was difficult to believe she’d ever been a friendless waif. She took Kum Yong’s arm. “And now you help others.”

  Kum Yong smiled, ducking her head so her bangs covered her dark eyes. “I do what I can. I owe Miss Cameron—and the Mission—my life.”

  Once their baskets were full, the three women walked back up the hill. Several of the youngest children met them at the door, their faces bright with smiles.

  “Lo Mo, you’re back!” Yoke Soo danced around their legs, catching Elizabeth’s free hand and trying to steal a look inside the basket.

  Donaldina crouched on the floor, drawing the girl close. “Your friend sends his love.”

  Yoke Soo clapped her hands, her giggle ringing through the entrance hall. “I wish I could see him.”

  “Perhaps soon. But he sent something.” She drew the red box from her basket.

  Elizabeth held her breath—the medicine? Was the child ill?

  Yoke Soo popped off the lid and tiny wrapped sweets spilled onto the floor. Her squeal echoed through the hall, bringing other girls running.

  “One each. You know the rules.” Donaldina stood, a smile smoothing the lines from her face.

  A laugh bubbled from deep inside Elizabeth. “Candy? I thought he was sending medicine.”

  Kum Yong laced her arm around Elizabeth’s waist. “We have much to teach you.”

  Donaldina held up the tightly folded slip of blue paper. “This is the only remedy we need.”

  ***

  Charles fidgeted as the lift door opened on the ninth floor. With a quick nod to the operator, Eugene, Charles hurried down the hall, shoving his arms into the suit jacket’s sleeves. The coat settled across his sticky back. Jogging to the office had saved a few minutes, but it wasn’t likely to make up for being hours later than expected. Charles swallowed hard before turning the knob.

  Henry glanced up from his desk, a horrified expression on his face. “Where have you been?” He jumped up and met Charles in the doorway. His voice lowered. “Your uncle is on the warpath. He wanted to introduce you to Ambrose McClintock this afternoon.”

  Charles’s stomach dropped further. “I was detained.”

  Spencer poked his head and shoulders out from Uncle Silas’s office. “The prodigal returns.”

  Charles fought the urge to creep back into the hallway and make a run for it. Years of law school, wasted in one careless afternoon. He could still practice in another town, right?

&n
bsp; Uncle Silas appeared in his doorway. He clenched a rolled-up newspaper in his fist, as if prepared to discipline a wayward pup. “Charles, my office.” He disappeared without another word.

  Charles’s heart leapt and sank, all in one swift motion. “Yes, sir.”

  Henry held out a hand. “Let me take your hat.”

  Charles pulled it off, running a hand over the damp strands of hair clinging to his forehead.

  “Good luck.” Henry clasped his shoulder.

  Spencer lifted his chin, not bothering to conceal a snorting half-laugh. “He’s going to need it.”

  Charles focused on not dragging his feet on the long march to his uncle’s office. Every head turned, a hush descending over the room. He pulled the door closed behind him, certain the clerks would dissolve into gossip before the latch clicked.

  Uncle Silas stood behind the massive desk, his spectacles low on his nose. He folded his wiry arms. “I hope you can explain this. Spencer has been back for hours.”

  “I ran into Miss King in the courthouse.” Seemed wise to lead off with a client’s name. “She was observing a case for her employer. I thought it best to accompany her.”

  His uncle’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t pay you to chase after young women.”

  A wave of heat climbed Charles’s neck. “No, sir. Of course not. I only meant—she’s a client. You placed me in charge of her family’s case.” He reached for his collar, finding himself in need of a breath of air.

  Uncle Silas fell silent for a moment, his mustache twitching. “Why was she in court? Was it related to the estate?”

  “No, sir. It involved her employer, the Presbyterian Mission Home. I thought, if she needed legal counsel, it’d be advantageous if one of your representatives was on hand. You wouldn’t want her turning elsewhere.” A weak argument at best.

  Uncle Silas coughed, his mouth opening and closing twice in quick succession. He grabbed a glass of water from the desk and took a couple of sips. “No. You’re right. We wouldn’t.”

  The hairs on Charles’s arms rose. Uncle Silas agreed?

  His uncle pulled out the desk chair and sat, the years appearing to drape over his shoulders like a threadbare coat. “Did you learn anything of value?” He flicked his fingers at the seat behind Charles.

  Charles brought the chair forward and sat down. Value? He quickly explained the Mission’s case and the shocking outcome, including Tien Gum’s disappearance.

  The man’s eyes glazed over after a few sentences. He fiddled with a gold watch chain. “Nothing of interest, then.”

  “A young woman was abducted—you don’t find that newsworthy?”

  “A Chinese woman. A prostitute.” Uncle Silas sat back, the seat creaking. “This sort of business is a waste of the court’s time. And yours.” His uncle ran a hand over his chin. “We handle cases for prominent clients, not society’s castoffs. You need to set your mind to that fact, if you’re to remain here.”

  A sour taste collected in the back of Charles’s throat, but he managed a nod.

  “I don’t want you to soil your hands on such cases. It could endanger your political future.”

  Charles leaned forward. “Sir, I mean no disrespect, but the reason I desire a future in politics is to help people like Tien Gum.”

  “Ideals are well and good, Charles, but first you must gain a position of influence. Until then you are powerless. Controversial topics will divide your following and leave you with no hope for election.” He stroked his whiskers. “Now, I brought you into this firm on my good graces. Ambrose McClintock had serious reservations about your youth. Please don’t prove him right in your first week.”

  “Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir. I won’t.” He had years of tuition to repay. He couldn’t afford to lose this position.

  “Good. Good. And Charles,” he locked Charles with a stern gaze, “as the senior partner, it’s unseemly for me to be constantly giving you direction. From now on, you’ll answer to Mr. Spencer. Do you understand?”

  Charles stiffened his back to keep from sinking down in the seat. “Of course.”

  “Head over to his office, then. I believe he has a few tasks for you.”

  “Yes, sir.” Charles rose. “And thank you for your faith in me, sir.”

  Uncle Silas leaned across the desk, grasping Charles’s palm in a firm handshake. “Don’t disappoint me again.”

  9

  As Elizabeth, Donaldina, and Kum Yong hurried through a circle of light cast by a street lamp, Elizabeth lifted the blue paper and scanned the words. Sullivan 261. After 9 pm. Her boot splashed through a puddle, the cold water seeping in to soak her stockings. She folded the note and pressed it back into her pocket. “Are you sure we can trust this man? What if he’s working with Tien Gum’s kidnappers?”

  Kum Yong cast a glance over her shoulder. “Not every Chinese man is evil, Elizabeth. Most are quite respectable.”

  “Of course.” Elizabeth chewed on her lip.

  Miss Cameron pulled her arms close, as if protecting herself against the chill of the evening. “There’s our escort.”

  A policeman waited on the corner, his dark uniform blending with the night. He fiddled with a baton, tapping it against his leg. “Miss Cameron, I presume?”

  “Yes. And you are?”

  The man jammed the stick into its loop on his belt. “Officer Kelley, Ma’am.”

  “You’re new to the Chinatown beat, aren’t you?”

  The officer ran a quick hand across his nose. “Yes’m. I had an unfortunate incident with the commissioner. I think I may be here awhile.”

  Miss Cameron sighed. “Come along, then. You’ll need to follow my lead.”

  The officer’s eyes widened. “Follow your lead?”

  “I’ve done hundreds of these visits, but each one is different. Some run as smooth as silk, others turn loathsome the moment you knock on the door.”

  The man grunted as he shoved back his round helmet. “The fellows warned me, but I thought they were joshing.” He gestured down the narrow street with his stick. “After you, ma’am.”

  Elizabeth fell in between the two women and the policeman, a trickle of unease edging its way along her spine. This certainly wasn’t the innocent teaching post she’d described to her mother. Robert’s misgivings replayed through her mind.

  Donaldina approached a nondescript door and gestured to Officer Kelley. “Will you do the honors?”

  He pounded on the door, the sound echoing through the shadows.

  Elizabeth held her breath. She’d heard Kum Yong tell stories of Donaldina using a hatchet to force her way into brothels. Would such be the case tonight?

  The door creaked open about four inches, revealing a haggard-faced old woman. She cackled at them in Cantonese. The harsh words bore little resemblance to the pleasant greetings the girls had taught Elizabeth.

  Kum Yong answered, her melodic voice firm as she gestured at their official escort.

  Officer Kelley held out the warrant.

  The woman squinted, unchained the door, and swung it wide. She switched to broken English. “No girls here. Only me.”

  “We’ll see.” Donaldina slipped past the stout woman and proceeded to open every door and cabinet she passed. Kum Yong and Elizabeth hurried after her, the sense of urgency deepening as they moved further into the dwelling. Each room stood empty.

  Kum Yong returned to the woman. “Where is everyone?”

  “I tell you, no one but me.” Her pencil-thin eyebrows rose, nearly disappearing into her hairline.

  The policeman fidgeted. “Perhaps your informant lied to you.”

  Elizabeth wandered past the edge of a large table. The silk covering draped to the floor, puddling against the floorboards. Careful not to garner the woman’s attention, she lifted a corner of the fabric with her toe. Movement underneath made her heart jump. Dropping to her knees, she pushed the cloth to one side.

  Three frightened sets of eyes stared back.

  The old woman hissed
and darted forward, but Officer Kelley caught her arm, halting her in her tracks. She stamped her foot, yanking against his grip. “Not your girl. My girls. Daughters.”

  “Then why’re you hiding them, eh?” Officer Kelley held her in place. “Now be quiet while the ladies talk to your daughters, will you?”

  In a few moments, Donaldina and Kum Yong crouched at Elizabeth’s side, beckoning to the young women hiding in the shadows. Kum Yong murmured in their native language.

  Elizabeth’s heart ached as she studied the three young faces peeking out from under the tablecloth. Their fear hung heavy in the air. None resembled the girl they sought. “What do we do? Can we bring them to the home?”

  Donaldina sighed. “We cannot take every woman out of Chinatown—not without proof of wrongdoing. We’d be as bad as those who steal girls from us.”

  Kum Yong’s brow furrowed. She edged forward, reaching for one of the girl’s hands as she spoke in hushed tones.

  The girl’s gaze darted around the room, settling on the woman near the door. In a hushed voice, she chattered a few more phrases, gesturing to herself and the others.

  “What is she saying?” Elizabeth touched Kum Yong’s arm. “Does she know where Tien Gum is? Do they need rescue?”

  Kum Yong turned to her, round eyes brimming. “She says Tien was here, but highbinders took her away before we arrived.”

  The girl pulled the pink silk around her face, like a hood. “Tien Gum say, we go with Lo Mo.”

  The older woman shrieked, jabbing an elbow into the police-man’s gut.

  Officer Kelley grunted, clamped an arm about her midsection, and lifted her off her tiny feet. “I’ve had about enough of you. My head is splitting from you yammering in my ear.”

  Donaldina nodded. “Tien Gum may be lost, but she’s brought us three more daughters.”

  They crawled out on hands and knees, their faces powdered and lips painted.

  Elizabeth’s skin crawled. The girls couldn’t be more than thirteen. What had she been doing at the same age—paper dolls, piano recitals, household chores? She helped the tallest one as she scuttled into the light of the lantern. “We’ll help you.”

 

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