Caleb shook his head. “We can manage it, Mrs. Wong, but come here. I want you to meet Judge Winters. He’s going to help us get Liling back.”
Mrs. Wong hurried over to the men and bowed several times to the judge. “I thank you.”
“No need to thank me, Mrs. Wong. I’m just sorry something couldn’t be done before now.”
“Mr. Caleb try hard, and he get taken away. We so sorry such bad things happen to him.”
Caleb shook his head and reached out to take hold of Mrs. Wong’s arm. “Mrs. Wong, we already spoke about this. There is no reason to be sorry when God clearly had a purpose in everything that happened. I am not sorry for what happened to me, only sorry that I wasn’t able to bring Liling home. But I promise you we will have her here very soon.”
She smiled at Caleb and bowed again. “You a good man, Mr. Caleb.”
Caleb wouldn’t go that far, but he said nothing and allowed Mrs. Wong to return to her quarters. Camri was already pouring cups of coffee.
“Judge, would you care for cream or sugar?” she asked.
“I’ll take both.” He looked at Caleb. “My wife would chide me to leave them out. She said I’m getting fat.” He patted his midsection. “But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
Camri brought him his coffee. “Yes, but it may hurt you. I hope you won’t tell her that I aided and abetted you in the act.”
The judge winked and took the coffee. “My lips are sealed.”
CHAPTER
28
Patrick looked at the drugged men sleeping as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Rain poured down on them, but they were oblivious to it, just as they were to the plans Daniels had for them. Patrick had just put the last man into the back of Daniels’ wagon, wedging him in with the others and fighting back the urge to confront his boss. He had to stick with the plan—had to convince Daniels that he was in full support.
The dark night and storm concealed their actions for the most part. No one seemed to care that Malcolm Daniels was driving his wagon from one boardinghouse to another with lengthy stops in between. No one had any idea what was really happening.
“Help me cover ’em with the tarp, Murdock.” Daniels was already throwing a large piece of canvas over the bodies. “If Sean hadn’t up and quit me, we’d have more help.” He muttered several curses and strained to secure the tarp.
It was nearly one in the morning, and Patrick could only hope Caleb and Judge Winters had been successful in getting enough police officers to carry out their plan. He pulled the canvas over the bodies of the young men, noting that none of them could have been much older than twenty.
Foolish children. They’d not even really lived yet, and because of their choices, they were facing a questionable future.
“Well, that ought to do it.” Daniels shoved the canvas down the sides of the wagon, then took out a revolver and tucked it in the front of his pants.
All evening, Patrick had pondered how he was going to overpower Daniels when the time came. The boss was armed, and Patrick had no desire to see any honest policemen take a bullet. He’d prayed for guidance, but short of using the knife in his boot, he wasn’t at all sure how he could keep Daniels from taking the lives of innocent men.
“You sit on the back of the wagon in case anyone comes along and gets nosy,” Daniels instructed. He reached into his coat and pulled out a second revolver. “Take this. If anyone comes near, you can wave it around.”
Patrick checked to see if the gun was loaded. It was. He gave Daniels a nod. “I was just wonderin’ how I would be handlin’ things if the need arose.”
“We shouldn’t have too much trouble.” Daniels glanced around. “The dock workers won’t care, and Ruef’s men know to leave us be. Besides, we haven’t that far to go, and the rain will discourage honest folk from leaving their homes—especially given the hour.”
Patrick took a seat on the back of the wagon and slipped the gun in his waistband. “I’m sure ye know best.”
Daniels grunted. “Just the same, I’ll be glad when we get this bunch delivered.”
“Do we have more to pick up?” Patrick asked.
“I got the rest at the warehouse. The ship captains will have their men there to help load ’em into the boats and out to the ships.”
Daniels put the horses in motion and headed through the Barbary Coast neighborhood. Despite the hour and the rain, the place was still a riot of activity, with lights flashing, music, and women calling out to entice customers. The only difference was that due to the rain, the soiled doves stood in the windows and doorways.
From time to time, Patrick spotted a fight on one of the side streets. Liquor and women got these men up in arms faster than anything Patrick had ever seen. And the downpour wasn’t stopping anyone, especially not the bookies taking bets on the fights. It was amazing to Patrick how these men would bet on anything, even two drunk boys fighting over the same dancer.
Men in various states of inebriation wandered the drenched streets in search of a good time, and none were quiet about it. If they’d come a day or two earlier, they might have found themselves one of the nameless boys lying unconscious in the warehouse. If they weren’t careful now, they might find themselves beaten and robbed—if not killed.
“Sewer’s overflowing up the street,” someone called out to Daniels as they passed. “You’ll have to go around.”
They detoured, only to find the problem affecting more than one area. Daniels cursed and headed the horses in another direction.
Dodging floods and sewage made their ten-minute trip stretch to thirty. Patrick’s gaze darted from one corner to another. He was certain the judge’s men would be nearby, perhaps even following them at a distance. He hadn’t been able to get word to Caleb until earlier that morning as to the warehouse location, but it was more than enough time for the men to infiltrate. At least he hoped it was.
They finally pulled up alongside a run-down building. A sign posted on the door stated it was the property of Daniels Distributing. It made no reference to what was being distributed.
A big burly man appeared from the shadows. Patrick didn’t recognize him, but Daniels had a lot of men working for him whom Patrick had never seen. This man looked more than able to handle himself, and Patrick knew he’d have to watch out for him once the judge’s men made their presence known.
Daniels climbed down from the wagon and pulled a set of keys from his pockets. He nodded at the man. “Sorry we’re late. We had to round up a few more.” He nodded toward the wagon. “I’m sure your captain will be pleased.”
The man said nothing, just watched Daniels carefully. Patrick left the wagon and stood to one side of Daniels as he unlocked the warehouse door. He had just opened the door when the big man reached out and took hold of him.
A dozen policemen appeared from various hiding places on the docks. Two even emerged from the warehouse.
Daniels was indignant. “What in the world is all this about?”
“It’s about drugging and shanghaiing men—forcing them to become crew members on ships bound for the Orient and elsewhere,” a suit-clad man announced. “I’m with the San Francisco Call, and I intend to see that this story is front-page news.”
Patrick hadn’t seen where he or the others had been hiding, but given that they were just as wet as he was, he figured it hadn’t been indoors.
The newspaperman was eager to make his way into the circle. “Can you state your full name for the paper?” he asked Daniels.
By now another policemen had hold of Daniels, and a third had come to take Patrick in hand. The big burly man waved the officer away.
“This one’s with us,” he told the uniformed policeman.
Patrick had no idea how the man knew. He’d figured, from the way Daniels addressed him, that the big man was a crew member on one of the ships. He breathed out in relief as the officer dropped his hold on Patrick’s arm. The last thing he wanted was to go back to jail.
D
aniels fixed him with a scowl. “You’ll pay for this with your life.”
The threat didn’t bother Patrick at all. “Better than lettin’ these lads pay with theirs.”
Patrick went to the warehouse door, where Daniels’ keys still dangled. He took the ring and put it in his pocket. He knew the keys would be the answer to getting Liling out of the dance hall. Without waiting to see what would happen to Daniels next, Patrick left the dock. He ran as fast as he could, backtracking their route and praying for guidance. When he came to Daniels’ place, he stopped long enough to regain his wind. No sense running in like his clothes were on fire. It would be enough that he’d come back alone, although he’d already thought up a believable story for that.
He walked into the dance hall like he owned the place. There was plenty of music and noise to distract most of Daniels’ men. Nelson eyed him from the bar, giving Patrick the distinct feeling he knew something was amiss.
“Where’s the boss?” he asked as Patrick casually walked up and struck a pose of disinterest.
“Drinkin’ with the ships’ captains and celebratin’ his bounty.” Patrick grinned. “It was a good haul.”
Nelson lost his look of suspicion. “That’s good. It’ll put the boss in good spirits. Since Gallagher up and left, he’s been fit to be tied. Now maybe he’ll loosen up his tight hold on the purse strings. I could use a decent bonus for all these extra hours.”
Patrick nodded. “I could use the same.”
“Hey, you’re getting water all over my bar.” Nelson picked up a towel.
Patrick straightened. “Sorry about that. It’s pourin’ out there. I’ll go get me a towel and see to dryin’ off.”
“You do that.” Nelson was already focused on tidying up the bar.
No one seemed to notice him, which pleased Patrick to no end. He grabbed a towel from one of the cupboards and wiped his face, then glanced down the hall where the private gaming rooms were. At the end, he saw one of Daniels’ men guarding the door to the upstairs rooms. This was the routine when Daniels was out of the building. Patrick would have to make some sort of excuse for going up there.
He thought of the gun still tucked in his waistband as he walked down the hall. Maybe he should just hit the guard over the head and leave it at that. But even as he considered it, Patrick knew someone would easily find him.
“Evenin’, Murdock,” the guard said.
“Evenin’, Jude. I need upstairs. Daniels sent me.” A thought came to mind. Daniels’ living quarters were up there. He held up the keys. “He left his wallet. I’m supposed to fetch it back for him.”
Jude laughed. “Just don’t be interrupting the customers.”
Patrick shrugged. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Do what ya will. The boss sent you, and I ain’t gonna go against him.”
“Aye.”
Jude stepped aside, and Patrick took the stairs two at a time. At the top, he nearly knocked a man down.
“Pardon me,” Patrick said.
The customer was of a higher class than usual and clearly drunk. He held up his hand, pointing an index finger at Patrick. “Watch yourself, young man.” He swayed and tried to grab Patrick.
Patrick steadied the customer and pointed him toward the stairs. “Ye want to go this way.”
The customer looked down the stairs and nodded. The infraction was already forgotten, and he started down. Patrick glanced toward Liling’s. He had no idea if she had a customer or not, but it didn’t matter. He had to get her out of here before word got back that Daniels had been arrested.
He went to the door. It was slightly ajar. That was a good sign. Perhaps the man he’d run into was coming from her room.
Patrick pushed open the door and saw the petite Chinese woman sitting on the side of her bed. One ankle was chained to the frame to prevent her from running away. She was Daniels’ caged bird.
Liling looked at him with wide eyes. Her black hair was pulled back but messy. “Why have you come?” She no doubt recognized him.
Patrick glanced back at the door. “I’ve come to set ye free. I’m takin’ ye to yer folks.”
She shook her head. “No, they hate me. I’ve dishonored them.”
He knelt in front of her and began searching through the keys to find one that would unlock the shackle. After just three tries, he found it. “They don’t hate ye at all. They’ve been half beside themselves tryin’ to find ye and get ye home.”
She shook her head, still unable to believe him. Patrick tossed the fetter aside. “Come on. We have to figure out how to get ye out of here.”
“That ain’t gonna happen,” Jude said, coming into the room. “I thought you were up to something. Daniels would never forget his wallet.”
Jude started to close the distance between them, but Patrick pulled the gun from his waistband. Jude stopped mid-step. He looked at the revolver and then at Patrick.
“You’ll never get her through the dance hall. The other men will stop you. They know who she is and what she means to the boss.”
Patrick looked back at the scantily clad woman. Her face was painted and her body more than adequately displayed. He’d have to find her other clothes. Clothes that would keep others from questioning who she was.
He looked back at Jude and smiled. “Close the door.”
Jude hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “It’s your funeral.” He closed the door then looked back at Patrick. His hand moved slowly toward his waistband.
“If I were yourself, I’d not do that,” Patrick said. He knew Jude had a billy club tucked into the back of his pants. “Toss the club on the bed.” Jude scowled but did as Patrick commanded. “Now take off yer clothes. Everythin’ but yer long underwear.”
Jude looked at Patrick as if he’d lost his mind. He shook his head, then made a lunge. Patrick was ready for him and hit him square in the face with the pistol. Jude staggered back, then dropped to his knees. He was used to a good fight, but Patrick had managed to stun him—at least for the moment.
Patrick handed the gun to Liling. “Shoot him if he moves.” From the look of hatred on her face, he had no doubt she would do just that.
He went to the bed, pulled off the sheet, and ripped it into several strips. He gagged Jude and then tied his hands behind him. It was only after Patrick had hoisted Jude to his feet that he remembered he needed the man’s clothes.
Just then, however, a young man pushed open the door and staggered inside. He looked at the situation for a moment, then shrugged. “I must be in the wrong room.”
“No, ye’re not,” Patrick replied, eyeing him for size. He was smaller than Jude and wearing a hat. “Come on in and close the door.”
The boy must have been used to seeing all sorts of things and didn’t even blink. He did as Patrick directed. Patrick wrapped the chain to Liling’s manacle several times around the iron bed frame to shorten it. Then he clamped the manacle on one of Jude’s bound wrists.
“That ought to hold ye for a moment.”
All the while the boy watched. He seemed intrigued by what was going on. When Patrick came to him, the boy shook his head. “I ain’t payin’ extra.”
“Ye won’t be needin’ to pay at all. Take off yer clothes.”
“I didn’t think we could do that. I remember they said downstairs I could only take off my hat.”
“Well, I’m tellin’ ye different. Take ’em off and do it quick, or I’ll be fetchin’ my gun.” He nodded toward Liling, but the boy still didn’t seem to understand.
Knowing that time was running out, Patrick delivered a knockout blow to the young man’s chin. “Sorry about the inconvenience,” he said as he lowered the boy to the ground.
Patrick quickly stripped the boy of his coat and shirt and tossed them toward Liling. “Put these on.” Next he went to work taking the boots and trousers. When he’d accomplished that, Patrick picked up the boy’s fallen hat and brought everything to Liling. “Put these on too. They’ll all be too big, but w
e’ll figure it out.”
Patrick glanced around the room. The boy hadn’t been wearing a belt, so he needed another way to help Liling keep the pants up. Nothing seemed useful. He looked down at Jude, who was finally shaking off his daze. Time was getting away from them.
Desperate, Patrick went to the drapes and cut the cord. Liling was just doing up the buttons on the pants, and he wrapped the cord around her waist, then pulled the band of the pants up under it.
He handed the ends of the cord to her. “Tie this around ye as tight as ye can.”
Liling cinched the cord around her waist and knotted it. Next Patrick helped her do up the buttons of the coat. When that was done, he handed her the boots. He glanced down at her small feet. “Ye’re goin’ to have to make due with these.”
“I can put stockings in the toes,” she suggested and went to the dresser. She pulled out two pairs of stockings and stuffed them down the boots. Then she pulled them on and nodded. “I can walk in them.”
By now Jude was starting to make noise. Patrick thought about giving him a good punch to the nose, but decided it would just be a waste of time. Instead, he grabbed up the hat and went to Liling.
“Stuff yer hair up under this and keep yer head down when we go downstairs. I’m gonna drag ye through the place like ye’ve caused problems. Just keep yer face down, and maybe no one will notice.”
She nodded and followed Patrick to the door. He looked down the hall to see if anyone else was there. It was empty, so he pulled Liling out of the room. They had made it down the stairs without incident when Patrick took hold of her arm.
“Now remember, keep yer head down.”
She lowered her head, and Patrick pulled her collar up to help hide her face, then grabbed the front of it like he might to evict a customer.
He dragged her down the hall and passed the bar, talking all the while. “We don’t allow trouble-makin’ here.” He glanced at the bar. Nelson was too busy to notice him. That at least was a break. The men left their wallets with the barkeep before heading upstairs, and Nelson would have reminded Patrick of that had he seen what was going on.
In Places Hidden Page 26
