Borrowing a handkerchief from her husband, Lady Yee gave the ruby egg a final cleaning, and then rubbed the gem on either side of her nose. The fine facial oil imparted a lustrous sheen to the stone. But it was only when she held it up in the bright sunlight that the true magic of the ruby became apparent; the sunlight entering the gem seemed to converge at the heart of the stone and created an animated, fiery core of ruby light that was almost hypnotic.
Captain Hammond and his wife remained seated on the stoop admiring the scorching brilliance of the gem. Then, after a few moments’ reflection, Lady Yee asked whether fifteen thousand dollars in compensation for the ship’s survivors and crew would help Malakoff’s soul rest any easier. Lady Yee said she didn’t mean to include the owners of the ship, of course, as those skinflints would most certainly recoup their losses from the insurance companies. Besides, Mr. Atwood had long since signed on another crew and steamed the battered old freighter north, much to the visual relief of everyone on the bay. But there were others, she said, who had been marooned and left behind in strained circumstances, including Dr. Neruda and his family. They had all paid premium prices to travel like cattle just to escape from political violence, and they would never see their money again if they waited for the ship’s owners to soften their hearts. Besides, there were debts owed to the city for taking care of those people. The city fathers would be very pleased if Captain Hammond could find a way to recompense the public coffers as well.
Captain Hammond thought about this for a moment, and said he believed that was an excellent idea, but where were they going to find somebody with fifteen thousand dollars and a desire to own a ruby egg? Besides, they would have to get a professional appraisal to secure a buyer, and that could take months if not years, and then the word would be out. If the gem were stolen, the owner would be well within his rights to demand its return, and then no one would see any profit, and they would be out expenses.
Lady Yee suddenly looked up and said she would buy the gem for fifteen thousand dollars, and she didn’t need a professional appraisal either. She had grown up around precious gems, and she knew from the manner in which the stone had been cut and polished, and how it transmitted light and color, that it was not only authentic, but also almost perfectly flawless. She was convinced that such a rare stone, cut in such an unusual shape, could only have been the work of Russian or French jewelers, commissioned by Russian royalty. Though she did point out, this didn’t mean that the Russians hadn’t stolen the rock from its original owners, who were most likely Turks. Then Lady Yee laughed and said she even knew a way to turn a profit on the transaction.
This last statement amused the captain, and he asked how his wife planned to accomplish that. She said that was simple. She would sell the stone to her father for twenty thousand dollars. Captain Hammond laughed, but observed that her plan smacked of familial disloyalty. He asked how her father was to see any profit at that price. Lady Yee said that was the easiest part of all. Master Yee would turn around and sell the ruby egg back to the Russians for twenty-five thousand dollars. That, she thought, would even entertain Malakoff’s ghost. Captain Hammond just shook his head. He had married into a remarkable family, but he found that trying to stay ahead of the wave was usually an exercise in frustration. He handed the ruby egg back to Lady Yee, and they rose to walk back to Macy’s tea party. Then suddenly Lady Yee stopped and cocked her head as though listening for something. She looked up at her husband and asked whether he had ever discovered what had inspired the man Vuychek to torment Dr. Neruda with insults. The captain said he didn’t really know for sure, but he didn’t believe Malakoff had instigated the incidents. Rather, he wagered a theory that Vuychek, like all ignorant people, was triggered by the oldest and most backward reasons possible: the color of the man’s skin and the name of his god. Lady Yee took on a curious expression and asked what kind of skin she had. Her husband smiled, and bent to kiss her on both cheeks. With a twinkle in his eye he said Lady Yee had very expensive skin, which he prized above all else. But he reminded her that one could never place a true value on something that has no equal. There was nothing to compare with the incomparable. There was only one Silver Lotus, he said, imparting another kiss to her forehead, and she was unique in all the world.
The next day, Captain Hammond went to visit the little onion-domed Russian Orthodox church on the distant north end of Monterey. It sat on the banks of willow-lined Fremont Creek, embraced by a small forest of willows and blooming dogwood, and in the main was a lovely prospect all around. After a formal introduction, Captain Hammond met with the presiding cleric and arranged to pay for the funeral and burial of one Captain Sigmund Malakoff. Captain Hammond even commissioned a small stone to mark Malakoff’s grave.
When Mr. Campion ultimately learned of this generous and selfless act, he sent Captain Hammond the most complimentary letter imaginable, and invited him to sit on the board of the harbor commission. Captain Hammond was of a mind to modestly decline this honor, but Lady Yee convinced him to accept as a means of helping others, while at the same time affirming his own reputation as a man capable of shouldering public responsibility. The financial remuneration was only ceremonial at best, and so Captain Hammond agreed to serve without pay for as long as he was needed. This consequently led to further invitations to participate in public service, but the captain chose to maintain an attitude of enlightened disinterest, especially in holding any position of authority, since these usually came with implied political allegiances that required more than gratitude to sustain. He far preferred to labor in the public interest on his own terms, in his own time, and using his own methods and means to accomplish his ends. Lady Yee understood precisely how he felt. The captain had been in sole command for too many years to abide decisions made by consensus, and he wasn’t one to join clubs, committees, or social movements, no matter how well intentioned their motives or goals.
The passing of Malakoff brought a long spate of peace and quiet that allowed Dr. Neruda the time to place the infirmary on an active footing. He and his family proved very dedicated indeed, and they soon had everything working relatively smoothly, at least for a mechanism fashioned to deal with the turmoil of injury and illness, birth and death. Within a short while, aside from approving and paying running costs, Lady Yee found the infirmary worked quite well on its own and required no further supervision. She was now free to focus on other projects that had since taken her interest. She also felt that it was now extremely important that both her children learn to speak and read civilized Chinese, and not the slang dialects they were exposed to by the servants, gardeners, and stable hands. In this endeavor she trusted herself alone to accomplish the task properly. And that would take her full attention for a while.
For the next few years, under the captain’s deft guidance and Lady Yee’s intuitive commercial instincts, Hammond, Macy & Yee thoughtfully moved from one modest success to another, growing in assets and wealth. And though Captain Hammond had now resolved, at the loving insistence of Lady Yee, to do all his sailing on Monterey Bay aboard his custom-built thirty-foot catboat, the company nonetheless now controlled substantial or at least a majority interest in eight modern steam-powered freighters, chartered mostly to the lucrative coastal lumber trade, but sailing as far as Panama and Peru for rarer woods.
But like his wife, Captain Hammond’s greatest pleasure and the focus of his happiest discipline were the needs of his daughter and son. The captain, according to Lady Yee, was a complete stooge when it came to any whim Macy might envision, and if his three-year-old son, Silver, could have come up with a reputable scheme to conquer Central America using toy soldiers, his father would have backed him to the hilt. Though he adored Macy, and indulged her every whim, even Lady Yee was forced to admit that there was a very special, very powerful, and very mysterious bond between father and son. When the boy was teething or ill, the only arms and voice that gave him any true comfort or relief were his father’s. On occasion, Macy, who felt she held p
recedence where her father’s interests were concerned, went into fits of sibling jealousy when she felt her little brother was receiving attention that should properly be hers. However, their father possessed diplomatic skills worthy of a French courtier, and always somehow managed to calm the troops and then inspire a resurgence of laughter, patience, and affection in the ranks. This was just as well, since Lady Yee freely confessed she had no proficiency at disciplining her own children and was grateful that her husband possessed the ability to maneuver them into channels of acceptable behavior without resorting to harsh words or threats. It was his contention that hurt feelings rarely inspire children to behave properly toward each other, whereas praise and laughter had remarkable healing properties when it came to injured pride and the tarnished ambitions of disappointed children. Though it sometimes piqued her own motherly pride, Lady Yee had to admit that her husband had the insight and patience to bond with his children in a very creative and yet orderly manner. He never raised his voice, never criticized, and never threatened. He also knew how to make them laugh by telling wonderfully silly stories, and often joined in their games, regardless of his personal dignity. Sadly, Lady Yee always felt she lacked these necessary skills, and though she adored her children, and they worshiped her in turn, she continued to believe that somehow she was not doing enough to make them happy. Captain Hammond laughed at her self-assessment, of course, and said she was talking halfpenny nonsense, and Lady Yee in turn would smile gratefully and pretend to believe him.
18
IT WAS LADY YEE’S unerring aptitude for unraveling the intricate skeins of the human mystery that led her to become once again involved with Sheriff Winslow and Marshal Sanchez in two mysteries that involved homicide during the commission of a theft. The first was the murder of a Chinese, and the second was a murder by a Chinese, and in both cases whites were involved, so the public demand for resolution was high.
The first case involved the brutal murder of an elderly Chinese craftsman, a fine wood carver of high local repute. His name was Master Chow-Ing Wah, and Lady Yee knew him primarily because he had carved the beautiful gold-leafed characters honoring Guan Yin that hung above the entrance to the infirmary. He had also contributed a marvelous little statue of Guan Yin that he had carved from a single piece of rose coral. To Lady Yee’s great distress, Master Chow-Ing Wah had been found beaten to death in his cottage workshop. His property had been thoroughly ransacked in search of something of value.
The crime inspired Lady Yee to do her own research into the circumstances surrounding the old man’s murder, as she was aware that the Chinese would never reveal anything to the authorities out of fear of becoming a target for the murderer or of being accused of the crime themselves. With this in mind, Lady Yee set out her own subtle web of inquiries to collect any information that might drift by. Like a hunting anemone, she let her tentacles wave through a cloud of irrelevancies until something significant swam within reach. And that is just what ultimately transpired.
Through Nandiri Neruda she learned that an elderly woman who had been a patient at the infirmary said she was the murdered man’s cousin. According to Nandiri, the old woman was a creature of nervous temperament and vivid imagination, a very distressing combination in the elderly. She had come to see Mrs. Neruda because she was so fearful about the death that she hadn’t slept for three days. Her distress was taking a definite physical toll, so Nandiri compounded a sleeping draught that seemed to work quite well. Lady Yee decided to send her familiar, Ah Chu, to interview the woman. Lady Yee saw to it that he carried a hamper full of gastronomic delights aimed to pamper the elderly palate. She also included a half-pint jug of a rare Chinese plum-wine brandy. This volcanic spirit was so powerful that tradition dictated it could only be consumed from cups the size of pinky thimbles, and even then the portion was deemed more than adequate. When Ah Chu returned, he bore information that Lady Yee knew at once was critical to the mystery. She immediately penned a note to Sheriff Winslow inviting him for tea that afternoon. She promised strawberry custard tarts and critical information as inducements. Sheriff Winslow, who had formed a high opinion of Lady Yee’s abilities during the Vuychek business, was fascinated to learn that the murdered man had once been an exotic pearl broker who had spent many years on the coasts of Arabia and the Red Sea. After serving two years in a Turkish prison for supposedly smuggling pearls, he escaped to Egypt. To feed himself in Alexandria, Chow-Ing Wah took work in a wood carver’s establishment, where he learned he had considerable untapped skills of his own as an artist. He also learned it was safer to travel as an itinerant craftsman, burdened only by his chest of tools, than it was to travel as a pearl broker, whose burden virtually everyone wanted to relieve him of.
Lady Yee told the sheriff that the victim’s aged and very distant cousin lived close by, and she had sworn that Chow-Ing Wah had come to Monterey from Seattle ten years before. Once settled, he had set up a small shop carving decorative elements for other furniture makers. He made a modest living, disdained all thoughts of marriage as too expensive in time and money, and seemed to want for nothing important. Lady Yee then smiled and suggested that, despite all evidence to the contrary, perhaps Master Chow-Ing Wah hadn’t really set aside his deep interest in pearls after all. The killer had gone to great risk to thoroughly search the dead man’s property. She said they could only assume the murderer had found what he or she was looking for. With this in mind, Lady Yee went on to suggest that Sheriff Winslow put out the word to be on the lookout for anyone trying to sell or trade in pearls, for she was honestly persuaded that the old man had been murdered for profit and nothing else. Lady Yee convinced Sheriff Winslow that Chow-Ing Wah, being Chinese to the core, would have set aside something valuable to see himself through old age and infirmity. What else could this consist of but pearls?
Sheriff Winslow left Lady Yee with warm sentiments of gratitude and assurances that he would act on the information at once. Matters soon fell into place when a rough-hewn Portuguese seaman was arrested in Moss Landing. He had gotten uproariously drunk at a popular local cantina, and it was noted that he drank only the best and most expensive spirits. When the cantina owner refused to take a large misshapen pearl as payment for the seaman’s food and drink, the Portuguese assaulted him and then tried to escape. He was restrained by some of the other customers, and then arrested by the local deputy. It was then discovered that the seaman had a large stash of pearls in his possession, and Sheriff Winslow was contacted immediately. The man was then rearrested for the murder of Chow-Ing Wah, a crime to which he later confessed. He didn’t really have much choice in the matter, as the silk-lined leather purse holding the pearls carried Chow-Ing Wah’s personal chop stamped in cinnabar.
There were two odd codicils to this sad incident. The first was the fact that the Portuguese was the first man ever to be hanged for the murder of a Chinese in Monterey County. The second odd circumstance appeared in the guise of Chow-Ing Wah’s distant cousin and now heir. The old woman begged Ah Chu for an audience with his mistress, and Lady Yee agreed. It was only then that Lady Yee learned that Chow-Ing Wah’s cousin had gained possession of the pearls. But the poor old woman said she didn’t need pearls, she needed money to live on. She had no idea how to liquidate the gems without being cheated, and she feared that now that the pearls were blood-cursed, someone would murder her as well. Then she blushed and modestly confessed that she really didn’t think they were worth very much altogether, for they were far too large and grotesque in shape, and no two were alike in any respect including color, and though admitting complete ignorance on the subject, she said she wasn’t sure whether they were really pearls at all. They certainly didn’t look like pearls she’d seen depicted.
Lady Yee politely asked to see the gems and was stunned by what greeted her eyes. The old lady placed the silk purse on the table and slowly poured out twenty-five of the largest and most shaped baroque pearls imaginable. Some were the color of fine pink coral, while others refl
ected tones of azure blue, soft sea green, silver black, and translucent gold. The sizes and shapes were indeed bizarre and unattractive to the untrained eye, but Lady Yee knew from the first instant that there were court jewelers in Moscow, Brussels, and Paris who would sell their own children to possess these magnificent and unique natural sculptures. Once in gifted hands, they would become the torsos of golden mermaids or diamond-haloed cherubs in repose, or perhaps even set in some priceless piece of royal regalia. However, Monterey wasn’t Paris, and taking these to market would involve some expense and time. Local appraisal of their value would be meaningless, since no one in California would know what to do with them.
Lady Yee knew she was treading a slick deck, but her instincts told her that, despite the fact that she knew little about baroque pearls, and colored pearls specifically, she might see her way to a profit if she helped the old woman simultaneously.
Lady Yee asked how much money the woman needed for the gems, but the poor woman had no idea of their value. She said she needed at least sixty-five dollars a month to support herself, her widowed daughter, and baby grandson, but more money would certainly be helpful. Lady Yee suddenly realized the poor woman’s problem. If by some impossible act of perverse justice the old woman should find some buyer to give her the full value in cash, she wouldn’t have the slightest notion of what to do to protect the money besides burying it under the hearth, and her personal possession of such wealth would only attract acts of fraud, theft, and possibly worse, especially if her darker fears were made manifest.
The Silver Lotus Page 24
