Tears of the Dragon

by Holly Baxter

  Archie snorted. “Walk softly and carry a big stick,” he quoted. Hugh, who was heavy-footed at the best of times, doubted he could comply, but he would try. Drew added, “Carry a big rock would be better.”

  “Carry whatever you can get your goddamn hands on.” Archie was keying himself up. He liked to investigate alone, but he was more accustomed to going into a dangerous situation with trained and armed officers beside him. Not nervous amateurs.

  He restarted the engine and rolled slowly along the edge of the road until they came to the place where the woods met the road between estates. He cut the engine and the lights. Opening his door quietly he glanced back at the other two. “Move it,” he commanded in a rough whisper. The rain suddenly blew in upon them, relentless and icy.

  There was a long, long pause, and then Drew got out and pushed his seat forward so Hugh could emerge. The whites of their eyes shone as they regarded one another. They were already wet through, and their hair was being beaten down onto their foreheads by the rain.

  “Damn,” muttered Hugh.

  “What?”

  “I knew I should have gone to the toilet before we left.”

  Archie gestured widely. “Pick a tree. And then shut up and follow me.”

  ***

  Ellie, Mrs. Logie and Lee Chang had been going back and forth to the vault, bringing in the many old boxes that held T’zu-hsi’s jade. Mr. Lee told her it was traditional to pack jade in old boxes. If they were being watched, it would seem as if they were getting ready to comply with Harry’s demands, for their activity had been clearly visible through the glass passage, which now was awash with the falling rain.

  Ellie had gone into the kitchen with Mrs. Logie to get something to eat, when she gave a gasp and a small squeak. There was a distorted face pressed against the kitchen window. Mrs. Logie turned and drew a sharp breath.

  “No, no—it’s all right.” Ellie’s spirits soared as the face drew back a little and she was amazed to see it belonged to her cousin Hugh. What on earth was he doing here? “It’s my cousin.” Ellie hurried to the rear door and unlocked it. Hugh blew in with the rain, followed by Archie and—“Drew?” Ellie was dumbfounded.

  “Are you okay?” Hugh came over and grabbed her by the upper arms. His grasp was painful, and his clothes and hair were dripping wet.

  “Ouch, yes. I’m fine.” Ellie pulled away, rubbing her arms. “How did you—”

  “Are the others here?” Archie demanded, pushing his hair back from his gleaming forehead. This only resulted in his hair standing up in spikes.

  “No.” Mrs. Logie regarded them suspiciously. “How did you get past all those men outside?”

  “There are only two at the foot of the drive.”

  “Oh.”

  “We had a hell of a time getting across the back lawn—the light from that damn glass passage reaches nearly all the way to the woods.” Hugh was looking around curiously. “But we didn’t see anyone else, and I don’t think anyone saw us.”

  “They cut off the phone. They brought me here. Mr. Lee has to give up the jade to Harry or he’ll kill General Cohen and Father Anselm.” Ellie’s words tumbled over one another in her haste to explain. “And I think they’re near the stockyards because I could smell manure.” She frowned. “And ether…and pickles.”

  “Who the hell is Harry?” Drew interrupted.

  “Oh, dear.” Ellie looked at Mrs. Logie, who had resumed her usual blank expression in the face of these strangers. “It’s kind of a long story.”

  “Oh, swell,” said Hugh, taking off his wet jacket. “There’s nothing I like better than a nice long story in the middle of the night. We’ve been all over Hell’s Half Acre looking for you, Ellie. We’re half drowned. What the devil is going on?”

  The kitchen door swung back, and Lee Chang stood looking at them in astonishment, then recognized Archie. “You have brought the police?” He seemed upset by this.

  “No. Just me.” Archie looked around. “Can we sit down and talk about all this? My back is killing me.” He had fallen twice in the woods while the two “amateurs” had stepped lightly along as if sneaking up on houses was something they did every day of their lives. He was relieved to see Ellie, but growing more exasperated by the minute. “I seem to remember there are no windows in your library, Mr. Lee. It would be better if we weren’t seen to be with you for the moment. We were lucky. Those two out front must be making regular tours of the grounds. We came across two of your own guards in the woods.”

  “Fell over them.” Hugh still felt sick at the sight of all that blood.

  Mr. Lee clutched at the doorframe as if to keep himself from falling. “Dead?”

  “Very.” Archie moved toward him. “This is getting uglier by the minute. And I want to know why, Mr. Lee.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  It took a while for everyone to tell what they knew. At the end of it, Archie looked bleak. The storm was directly overhead, now, and he had to raise his voice to be heard over the thunder and wind. “I don’t know what the hell to do,” he admitted. “I really don’t.” He turned to Ellie. “You say the place they’re being held is a large building?” She nodded. “How many men did you actually see?”

  “Five. But I could hear others in the building, shouting and moving things around. General Cohen said he smelled opium. I could only smell manure and pickles. And something like ether.”

  “A lot of opium in Chinese history,” Drew said.

  “A lot of opium in China today.” Lee was as weary as the rest of them.

  Archie turned to Ellie. “But you said you smelled ether?” She nodded, and he swore under his breath.

  “I thought we were in the basement of a hospital until the General said he smelled opium.” Ellie was close to tears. Time was passing, and nobody seemed to be doing anything but talk. She thought of Father Anselm and Two-Gun Cohen and Harry Lee’s vicious sneers. Right after she had been taken from that room to come here, she had heard the sound of a blow and a chair falling. She thought of the big sullen men with Harry. Were they beating the priest and the General for more information, as they had beaten Webster? For pleasure? Were the two of them even still alive?

  “You’ve got to do something!” she cried. “Stop talking and do something. Take the jade out to the men in the delivery truck—they’ll take it to Harry and he’ll let the General and Father Anselm go.”

  “I doubt that.” Archie’s voice was flat. “That address he sent to Mr. Lee is on the riverfront. You said it was a big building—but not a hospital, Ellie, most likely a warehouse. Ether in a warehouse tells me just one thing. They’re using a cocaine lab’s facilities to process opium into heroin. And the people who process cocaine work for Capone.” He looked around at them in despair. “Don’t you see? They’re combining forces, using people like Manotta to get what heroin they’ve made so far to hook people on the street, moving them from opium and cocaine to heroin. It’s not a little Chinese operation. It’s big business. Dr. Tsung said they were anticipating Repeal, and I think he’s right. Torrio set up the Syndicate, organized it on business lines, before he handed over to Capone. Why let a good outfit go to waste just because liquor becomes legal again? If we contact the police on this, word will get straight back to Capone. We don’t need the police, we need an army!”

  Mrs. Logie covered her face and moaned. “Harry. Harry.”

  Mr. Lee’s face had been changing as Archie spoke. He went from hopelessness to shock to anger to resolve. “Do any of you men know how to reconnect the telephone wires that were cut?”

  “I do,” said Drew. “As long as they just cut them and didn’t take out a section.”

  “Do you know how a combustion engine works?” Hugh’s question was in jest, but Drew nodded.

  “In theory.”

  Hugh just shook his head. Was there nothing this Drew guy didn’t know—in theory? He resolved there and then to renew his library card when all this was ov
er. If he was still alive, that is.

  “I told you, calling the police is useless,” Archie snapped.

  Mr. Lee shook his head. “Not the police.” He looked suddenly sly and almost mischievous. “I have an idea.”

  ***

  “Where do you want these guys?” Arnold Ryan indicated the two Chinese thugs his own men had dragged out of the delivery truck at the foot of the drive and trussed up like a pair of turkeys. Forewarned by Lee, they had had no trouble sneaking up on them under cover of the storm. It had taken Drew less than ten minutes to reconnect the cut phone wires outside the house, although he returned wetter than ever and nursing a cut hand. Ryan shook the rain off his hat and began to unbuckle his raincoat.

  “Living room. But they need watching,” Archie said.

  Ryan looked at him, then turned to look at Lee. “Odd company you’re keeping, these days, Lee. Or have you got another body on the premises?”

  “I have need of help from all available sources,” Lee Chang said, calmly. He gestured and they followed him into the library, leaving Ryan’s two “friends” to guard the Chinamen.

  It took quite a while to explain everything. As they each spoke, Ryan regarded them in turn, lively interest on his face. He did not seem surprised by any of it, just interested. Elodie supposed nothing would surprise him these days. Not even jade from a dead Empress and people with their heads cut off. Mr. Lee finished up by explaining what he wanted from Ryan.

  “I think I can get you what you need.” Ryan leaned back in his chair. “Ever since the Valentine’s Day thing, Bugs Moran looks for ways to knock Capone’s legs out from under him.”

  “I thought you worked for Capone,” Archie said.

  “So does Capone.” Arnold Ryan smiled. “Because he has an Irish wife, he is prepared to overlook the fact that I am Irish as well. In fact, I occasionally give him useful information about the Moran outfit—when Bugs says it’s okay, that is.”

  “You’re working both ends against the middle.” Drew’s expression bordered on admiration.

  “I’m a lawyer.” Ryan took a drag on his cigar. “I work for myself.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous?” Even as she said it, Ellie knew her question was naive.

  “My dear, walking across the street in Chicago is dangerous.” Ryan smiled his charming crocodile smile. “If it pleases me to take money from fools on both sides, so be it. Their day is ending.”

  “Yours could be, too.” Hugh knew none of this could be reported, and it peeved him. A great, great story was being enacted in front of him, and he couldn’t say a word. It might make his career, and he would have to let it go. He glanced at Ellie, who almost smiled. She could sense his frustration.

  “Oh, my day is nearly over.” Ryan glanced at Lee Chang. “My doctor says a year or eighteen months if I’m lucky.” His tone was informative, and totally without self-pity.

  “Oh.” Ellie’s cry of sympathy was involuntary. By Lee Chang’s expression, she saw that he had already known of Ryan’s prognosis, but the others were as surprised as she was. Ryan looked perfectly fit and healthy.

  “That is why Mr. Lee’s offer of a jade piece in exchange for my assistance is so satisfactory. I will end my days possessing something of inestimable beauty I could not othewise afford—not even with Mob money.” He glanced at Lee. “You have it here?”

  Lee stood up and walked over to where the boxes containing T’zu-hsi’s treasure were piled on his desk. He opened one or two, then found what he was looking for. He came back and handed the small box to Ryan, who put his cigar carefully into the ashtray beside him, and took the box in his hands. “What will the General Two-Gun Cohen say when he knows I have this?”

  “If he lives, he will say ‘Thank you,’ Mr. Ryan.” Lee managed a smile. “If he does not live, no one will know. There is no inventory except in here.” He lightly touched his forehead.

  “And when I die?”

  Lee shrugged. “It is yours to do with as you wish.”

  Ryan nodded, satisfied. Slowly he lifted off the cover of the box and drew a sharp breath. “Holy Mary, Mother of God.” He stared into the box for a long moment, then looked up at Lee, who still stood beside him. “They’re incredible.”

  Ellie realized Lee had given him the butterflies. Ryan would obviously recognize their worth immediately, but it was not their value that filled his eyes. Just their incomparable beauty. In that moment she would have forgiven him anything.

  “I want my son to live.” Lee’s voice was soft.

  “No.” Mrs. Logie’s voice was harsh. “Disown him. Leave him.”

  Lee turned to her, his face sad. “Do you really want that?”

  “Yes, yes!” Mrs. Logie’s voice trembled. She covered her face and tears ran out between her fingers. “No,” she whispered.

  Ryan was still staring into the box. Finally he spoke. “How many men do you need?”

  Archie stood up. “That depends on what we can get out of those two in the other room.”

  Ryan glanced up at the clock face opposite him. “You’d better be quick. We’ll have to move before dawn, and that’s not so far away now.”

  ***

  Ryan had spoken directly to Moran on the phone, explaining that he needed about twenty well-armed men immediately. They could hear Moran’s rasping voice clear across the room but not what he said. Ryan simplified the situation but made it clear it was an opportunity to do serious damage to Capone. That brought forth a loud guffaw from the other end of the line.

  “I just need muscle and bullets, Bugs. No brains required on this one. You understand?”

  Moran’s voice softened. He understood.

  When he had finished making arrangements, Ryan put the phone down, and turned to Archie. “Half an hour. Six cars and a couple of limousines. We can brief them outside.” He turned to Ellie.

  “Now—draw what you can remember seeing.”

  “But I’m going, too.”

  “The hell you are.” Hugh was suddenly overwhelmed by anger. “You started all this—”

  “I did not!”

  “—and now that we’ve got you out of it we’re damn well not going to let you back in. This is going to be ugly, Ellie. You stay here.”

  “I will not! And you didn’t get me out of it, I got myself out by convincing Harry Lee that I was just a dumb little student. If I go in first, maybe carrying some of the jade, he’ll think he’s won. He’ll be off his guard.”

  Archie turned from where he was getting paper and pencil from Lee’s desk. “For five minutes. A lot of bullets can be fired in five minutes. Once you’ve brought the jade you’re no more use to him. You’ve seen him, you can identify him, you know something of what is going on. Why should he let you live any more than the priest or Cohen? Don’t be stupid.”

  “I am not stupid!” Ellie flared. “I’ll take in something small and say the rest is out in the delivery truck and I’ll go back out to get it.”

  “And he’ll shoot you in the back.” Ryan’s voice was flat. “He’ll expect his men to bring back the jade, not you. Archie here is wrong. You’re not stupid, Miss Browne. You’ve proved that, from what I hear. But neither are you expendable. There will be shooting. People will die. Their men, even some of Moran’s men, I expect. He knows that, we know that.” He glanced at Lee and Mrs. Logie. “She stays.”

  Lee nodded. “But my son—”

  “Have you a picture of your son?” Archie interrupted. Lee looked at Mrs. Logie, who nodded and went out of the room. Archie continued. “There will be a lot of Chinese men, Mr. Lee.”

  “And we all look alike.” Lee’s voice was bitter, resigned. “I understand.”

  “We’ll do our best, Mr. Lee.” Drew heard himself speak, and realized he had just volunteered for the operation. What the devil was happening to him? he wondered. Bravery was all very well in books and on the radio, but he was a dreamer, a drinker—not a fighter. “I mean—I’m sure they
’ll make every effort—”

  “I heard you the first time, Wilson.” Archie grinned at him. “Ever fired a gun?”

  “Good God, no!”

  “It’s easy,” said Ellie, her face filled with resentment. “You just point and pull, right?” She glared at Archie. “Even a woman can do that.”

  “Ever see a man go down with his intestines pouring out of a big hole in his gut?” Ryan’s voice was a slap in the face. “Ever hear a man with shattered legs begging you to kill him so the pain will stop? Ever see what a machine gun can do to a watermelon, much less a man?”

  Ellie went pale.

  “I think you get my drift.” Ryan handed her the paper and pencil. “Draw, Miss Browne. Just draw.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Drew had begun drinking while they waited for Moran’s thugs to arrive. When they appeared, they were even more frightening than he expected. They weren’t all big, or tough, or particularly unattractive in any way save one.

  Their eyes were dead.

  He knew instinctively that every one of them had killed at one time or another, and were perfectly prepared to kill again. It was their job, and like the baker and the candlestick maker, they did it carefully and well.

  As they stood in the driveway in front of Lee’s house, he exchanged a glance with Hugh. The reporter in Hugh was awake and interested, but the man within was as frightened as Drew was by these silent, obedient men who carried guns as casually as they might carry a cane or roll a hoop.

  The night was tapering, the storm had passed, but there still fell a soft, filmy rain. Hat brims, cars and even Drew’s spectacles glittered. Archie and Ryan were explaining what the men were to do. Lee Chang stood beside them, his face impassive. Harry Lee’s picture was passed from hand to hand, illuminated by flashlights.

  Drew tried to pretend it was a movie.

  It wasn’t.

  He had filled his flask from Lee’s supply, and took another swig. The gun they had given him was heavy in his jacket pocket, and banged against his side when he raised his arm to drink. He knew he would not be able to use it. Indeed, he was not at all sure he could put one foot in front of the other when they got where they were going.