Chinawoman's Chance

by James Musgrave

  “Yes, well then, Patrick. Your men can make a list and begin questioning these types. Thank you, Missus Foltz,” Lees nodded to the attorney. “I need to go now, and I would still like your assistance, Clara. May I call you Clara?”

  Clara’s face turned red. The Captain should have waited until they were away from all these men before becoming so emboldened. “I suppose so. Ah Toy! We must leave with the Captain now.”

  Stepping outside, Lees turned toward Clara. She was surprised at herself for being attracted to the much older man. Perhaps it was his calm, polite manner and English accent. Yes, but she supposed it was his sharp intellect that seemed to coincide with a deeper level in her own personality. When he spoke to her, his attention was riveted upon her eyes, something that other men rarely did. Other men didn’t believe women were their equal, but this man did.

  “Clara, I need your help because I trust both your character and your legal expertise. Miss Ah Toy, also, must be a fine human because she chose you as her friend. In other words, you both can assist me in this case. Now that I have my own list of suspects, I will be proceeding to go back over them and ask more questions to narrow my search. However, there is one other person I want to question who is not on my list. He is the religious leader of this Joss House, the Tin How Temple. He speaks only Cantonese, so I will need Ah Toy’s help as a translator. I would also like your legal expertise to help me assess any clues I might come up with later.”

  “Guan Shi Yin. He has been the minister of this temple for six years, I believe.” Ah Toy looked up at the colorful frontage of the temple and sighed. “My people are very superstitious when they are away from home. Mazu, Goddess of the Sea, has become a spiritual presence to pray to, and this man uses that need the way I used the female body in my business. In fact, here in the United States, she is called Goddess of the Heavens, a much loftier title.”

  “How can you compare a religious man with the business of prostitution? What he does is not illegal. In fact, religious practice is protected under our laws.” Captain Lees frowned.

  “That’s right. Nobody gets hurt praying to a goddess, but I seen a lot of girls beat up by their pimps and Johnny boys.” Dutch also had a scowl on his face. “And what about these here murders?”

  “To some extent, I agree with you. The way the Hip See Tong conduct business does degrade the women and put them in danger. They treat them like animals, put them in cages, and let the men do just about anything they want to their bodies. When I ran my business, my girls mostly acted for the men.”

  “Acted? I don’t get your reasoning.” Lees was intrigued.

  “She means she used feminine allure to make money, Captain,” Clara put in. “We women have been doing this legally, in marriage, for thousands of years.” She smiled over at her friend.

  “Yes, nobody could touch one of my women. They could please themselves, mind you, and we provided accoutrements to assist them in this endeavor. I began by doing this alone, and I saw that it worked. I made more money dancing and showing them a gradual unveiling of my female form than I would have if I had to perform intercourse with each of them. Chinese men enjoyed my acting, as it coincided with our Taoist and Buddhist ways. All of life, you see, is a drama produced by the inner God in all people, animals, and in all things.”

  “But you must have been approached by some men to do more than dance,” Lees said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Of course! But this was the genius of my approach, and it angered the Tongs. I was in control of whom I would allow to do this to my girls. I could carefully screen the applicant, if you will, so the danger to my employee was minimized. My girls received proper medical treatment, and they enjoyed their work. If they chose to marry one of these men, I would allow that also. The Tongs hated me for it, of course, and I eventually had to leave the business. My humane practice was too expensive to their way of thinking.” Ah Toy raised the sleeve of her red silk dress to expose a long, jagged scar that extended the length of her left forearm. “One of them did this to me out of anger.”

  “My God! You never showed me that,” Clara touched Ah Toy’s arm and winced.

  “Come, let’s talk with the mystical man. Enough about me.” Ah Toy climbed the steps leading to the temple’s main entrance. The temple itself was on the third floor of the building. The second floor was where the clan associations met, including the Tongs. Lees could smell the odor of burning incense and perfume as he stepped into the room behind Clara and Ah Toy. Sergeant Vanderheiden held his nose and raised his eyebrows.

  Inside the temple, the statue of Mazu sat on the central shrine with her assistants by her side. She was adorned in an Empress dress, all gold, and the ornate detail and jewels inserted in her belt were quite dazzling. Ah Toy pointed to the ceiling above the goddess’s head. “Above the shrine are rows of red lanterns donated by devotees. You can see the names of donors that are written on slips of red paper and attached to the lanterns. In front is a table full of offerings. The ritual items such as the joss stick holders were donated by devotees more than a hundred years ago back in China. For a donation, the worshipper may choose from this display of silver-colored seahorse combs, jeweled tie clasps, and small buddhas.”

  Dutch started to pick up one of the slips of paper to read it, but Ah Toy gently tapped his hand. “You must not touch. In fact, you are not supposed to be here. I suppose you were able to get permission because of the crimes, correct Captain?”

  Lees nodded. “It wasn’t easy. So, don’t get us thrown out of here, Dutch.”

  “Okay, boss,” the sergeant muttered.

  “I see there are gifts for women on display. How many females come here to pray?” Clara asked.

  “The prostitutes who are superstitious often come here to seek redemption from the Gods or to ask for divine intercession,” Ah Toy explained.

  “I see,” said Clara, and she wrote something down on her pad, which she had extracted from her purse.

  Ah Toy continued with the tour. “The side shrines are dedicated to many other deities including Guan Gong, Justice Bao, God of Wealth, Wah To, Wah Kwong, Lady Golden Flower and eighteen Guardian Deities, Ji Gong, Lu Dong Bin and God of House Guard.”

  “You certainly know your Gods, Miss Ah Toy,” a deep voice came from in back of the shrine’s red curtains. The draperies soon parted to reveal the temple minister, Guan Shi Yin, which meant, “hearer of all sufferings.”

  After Ah Toy translated the man’s Cantonese, Lees assessed him carefully. His walk was austere and boldly confident, as this was his domain. As a lowly minister, however, his clothing was humble compared to his spiritual protégé. He wore a simple robe of gold that tied at the waist with a golden sash. He was tall, over six feet, and his face was dark and handsome. He had a cleft in his chin and an attractive mole on his right cheek. His straight, raven hair was pomaded so that it was perfectly symmetrical and parted on the left side with his queue hanging down his back.

  Captain Lees knew Guan Shi was thirty-seven years old and that before entering the clergy he had been in the funeral business. In fact, as he still had connections outside Chinatown, he made extra money from doing services for Chinese patrons who had the money to pay for burials. This was the main reason Lees wanted to question him, as there might be some connection between the burial business and a possible murder suspect who might work therein.

  “Welcome. How may I assist you in your investigation, Captain?” Ah Toy’s translation created a gap in time, and Lees spent it observing the minister’s face. He looked sincere enough.

  “Where were you on the night of February 12, between the hours of six and eight?” Lees figured he would establish his whereabouts first.

  He spoke without hesitation in that sing-song chatter, and Ah Toy said, “He was performing a service in the temple.”

  “Good. Do you know if any of your—do you call them parishioners? Do you know if any of them have said anything about the murders of pr
ostitutes or behaved in any suspicious way in your presence?” Ah Toy thought for a moment, and then she spoke to him.

  Again, he answered quickly, and Ah Toy translated. “No, nothing was said about those murders. When I speak or perform a sacrifice, there is no talking allowed.”

  “I see. What about your services at funerals? Do you know anybody in your congregation who works preparing the bodies for burial or uses a knife of any kind in his job?”

  Before translating Lees’ words, Ah Toy explained, “Captain, we do not touch the body when it still has skin. The belief is that the flesh has evil spirits, so we employ white men to do the work of stripping off the flesh. The body is then ready for burial, but we most always send it back to China to be buried with the relatives.”

  “Thank you, Ah Toy, for that information. I would still like to know if he knows anybody who does this stripping work, whether they are Chinese or white men.” Lees knew the Sheriff’s men would be asking these people also, but if Guan Shi Yin knew anybody, it would save time.

  The minister paused for the first time before responding. Ah Toy finally translated. “He says he knows many such men, as he used to be in the funeral business. However, because the work they did is seen as disgusting and servile, he never wanted to know them personally.”

  “I see. I also saw a woman who performed in the street outside as the psychic medium for your Goddess. What kinds of questions or requests does she receive from the men?”

  After Ah Toy translated, the minister smiled broadly, and his response was quite long. Finally, Ah Toy offered the translation. “They ask many things. For good health, for a good woman and companion, for a safe trip back to China, or perhaps even to get rid of some specific disease or bad habit. Mazu can create the dance of the Gods inside a person so that any problem can be solved.”

  “Wonderful. And I would expect you get paid handsomely for your part,” Lees said, but when he saw Ah Toy shake her head in the negative, he rephrased his words. “I mean, thank you for your help. If I should need it again, would you be open to more questions?”

  Ah Toy translated Lees’ last words, and Guan Shi Yin again smiled that spiritual grin of his and answered, “Yes, anytime, Captain,”Ah Toy translated.

  When the group was down the stairs and standing in the street again, Lees confided his assessment. “I want to talk about motive right now. Why would a murderer want to commit a series of killings right under the noses of thousands of Chinese? What do we know about these victims? Now that the mayor and the Kwongs have turned over the details of the other seven victims, I know they had one thing in common, besides the fact they were all prostitutes.”

  “What’s that, boss?” Vanderheiden asked.

  “They were all independent prostitutes. This means they were a direct affront to the Tongs and their sex traffic business. I was, at first, angry with Connolly and Cook when they arrested the major Tong leaders, but now I’m not so certain. Could one of them be involved in these murders?” Lees buttoned up his cape, as it was beginning to get cooler.

  “I don’t think so,” Ah Toy responded, buttoning the top button on her red silk qipao.

  “Dear, I think we better get you inside. That flimsy garment won’t keep you warm,” Clara said. She was hoping the Captain might get the hint.

  “Come with me. There’s a nice Italian restaurant over on Stockton. It’s just a few blocks.” Lees began to lead the way.

  Clara smiled and nodded at Ah Toy. “See? Chivalry is not dead. Even in the police force.”

  At Mona Lisa’s Ristorante, inside a back booth, all four investigators were huddled together, sipping espressos, and chewing on breadsticks, waiting for their dessert orders to come. Lees sat next to Clara, on the right, and Ah Toy and Vanderheiden were next to each other on the left side of the booth.

  “Please continue, Miss Ah Toy. Why is it you believe the Tongs would not want to kill these women?” Lees asked, nibbling at the end of his breadstick.

  “I know the Tongs and how they do business. They are ruthless, yes, but they are also pragmatic. They see these women as their product, their source of income. Even women like me, who work alone, are not a threat to their business because we attract men with more money from outside Chinatown. The Tongs who deal with prostitution also deal with gambling, alcohol sales, and opium use. As long as the lone prostitute encourages her client to make full use of the sins available, they never get pressured, much less murdered. I was a threat only when I became a Madame. That made me a fellow business entrepreneur, so I was pressured to leave, but they would never have killed me.”

  “Show them your scar again,” Clara said.

  Ah Toy pulled up her left sleeve, and the men frowned. “Yes, I got cut as a warning, and I chose to leave. However, if I had decided to play their game, and give them regular tribute and protection money, I could have stayed in business. I was ready to leave, anyway. I made a lot of money in those fifteen years of work in Chinatown. I was given a Chinawoman’s chance to succeed.”

  “Yes, and that was more of a chance than she would have been given outside Chinatown,” Clara said, sipping her tiny cup of strong Italian coffee.

  “True, and that leads me to another suspect. Again, this person probably wasn’t the murderer, directly speaking, but he could have hired such a person to commit these atrocities.” Lees lowered his voice. “Mayor Bartlett hates the Chinese. He got elected on a platform of supporting the national Exclusion Act. And now, from what I hear, he wants to run for governor in the next election. Wouldn’t his chances improve greatly if there were wholesale murders being committed in Chinatown? Why, Dutch and I were with him today, and he said as much. Didn’t he, Eduard?”

  Vanderheiden looked up and saw the waiter bringing the tray of desserts. “Wait up, Captain. I want to taste my Cannoli before I say another word.” He selected the dish with the sweet cheese-stuffed funneled treat. He picked up his fork and took a big slice and pushed it between his lips. “Oh boy, that’s better than a gift from Mazu herself!”

  The others were given slices of Tiramisu coffee cake, and they all ate silently for a few moments, enjoying the experience.

  “Sure, the mayor could get a lot of good press from all of these murders. He did tell us he hopes the killer is Chinese. And he threatened our jobs if we found out the killer wasn’t a chink—excuse me—a Chinese.” Vanderheiden licked his fork.

  “How ghastly! I never realized there was this kind of racist subterfuge going on at high levels of our fair city.” Clara said, but she was purposefully coy. She played the same “innocent female” in the courtroom. It allowed men to open up even more to expose their weaknesses.

  “I received another clue from Miss Benedict at the Home for Wayward Women. There were two clues, but the second may be a coincidence. First, Miss Benedict stated that George Kwong was the man who brought Mary McCarthy into the school. He would also visit the girl from time to time. The second was the fact that Benedict used an expression for me when we first met. She called me O Captain, my Captain. Coincidentally, the mayor called me the same name, and he had never done this.” Lees dipped his fork into the cake and held it there. “I wondered if Benedict and Bartlett might be having a personal relationship.”

  “That was from Walt Whitman’s poem about the death of President Lincoln, was it not?” Clara asked.

  “Yes, it was. Frankly, I was wondering if it might not be a veiled threat. Assassination being the operative word.” Lees picked up the fork and brought the cake to his lips. He held it there.

  “You mean, if Bartlett and that woman are working together to get these girls murdered, then they might also be planning to take you out if you get too close to the truth,” Clara said. “Has our corrupt society come to this?”

  “But why would they want the bodies of these women disfigured? It makes no logical sense.” Ah Toy wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin and then set it down.

  “It makes sense if you reali
ze Bartlett once owned a newspaper. The more sordid and fantastically morbid a murder is, the more readers want to buy it. It’s the old saw of when a dog bites a man, it’s not news. But when a man bites a dog, it is.” Lees took the forkful of cake into his mouth.

  “And if these murders get solved under his watch, and the killer is Chinese, then the White Whale gets his votes for governor. The story would certainly become state, if not national news.” Clara pointed out.

  “Yes, and that’s the sum of my thinking. Of course, there are still George and Andrew Kwong and their involvement in this. Could they be the proximate murderers? If Bartlett paid them a lot of money, they could become killers who would profit from the case behind the scenes.” Lees was thinking out loud. He trusted Clara Foltz with this information because he believed she also wanted to find the truth.

  “Captain, I realize you know where I must stand on this. These two men are my legal clients. I must represent their best interests. I am, however, thankful that you are sharing this with me.” Clara smiled over at Lees, and he returned the grin.

  “You two should get a room!” Vanderheiden laughed, and he drained the last of his coffee.

  Sergeant Vanderheiden escorted Ah Toy back to her residence on Nob Hill, and Captain Lees did the same for Clara Foltz. This small team had become closer during the day, and Lees wanted to express his gratitude in a more personal way.

  “Clara, I know you didn’t get any money today by spending your time with me. Do you think you’ll be able to pay for your family to come to San Francisco?” Lees stood at the bottom of Clara’s apartment building on Montgomery Street looking into her eyes with his usual direct gaze. Gas lights were lit along the street, glowing with a reddish hue in the fog. Lees was not anxious to go home to his lonely flat, and he wanted to know more about this fascinating woman.