The Killing Look

by J. D. Rhoades

“I’m sorry things worked out the way they did, Cade.” He looked away. “I’d gotten to enjoy your company.”

  Cade swung down from the carriage and held out his hand. “Me too, partner. You look after those folks, now.”

  Samuel took the hand and gave it a firm shake. “I’ll try. But I’m not sure how.”

  A young boy had run out from the porch and caught hold of the reins. A thin young man dressed in a red jacket and tight black pants stepped to Cade’s side. He was wearing a little round red cap that made Cade think of an organ grinder’s monkey. “May I take your bags, sir?”

  Cade, who’d let go of Samuel’s hand to reach for his small trunk, stepped back. “Sure, sonny. But let me help.”

  The young man took the trunk and hefted it easily. He was apparently stronger than he looked. “I’m fine, sir. If you’ll follow me.”

  Cade touched the brim of his hat to Samuel. “Don’t be a stranger. Keep in touch if you can.”

  Samuel gave him a sad smile. They both knew that wasn’t going to happen. “Sure.” He gave the reins a shake and set off. Cade sighed and followed the bellboy inside.

  The lobby was huge and spacious, with more columns in a row toward a front desk impressively carved with twining vines and flowers. The man behind it was dressed in a black suit with a shirt that looked so heavily starched, the high collar would cut his throat if he didn’t keep his chin held high. “Good day, sir. Welcome to The Royal. In what name is your reservation?”

  “Townsend,” he said. “I’m a guest of Violet Townsend.”

  The only way Cade could tell that the name was familiar was that the front desk man didn’t even bend to look it up in his ledger. He just nodded. “Very good, sir.” He took a brass key from beneath the desk and nodded to the bellboy standing to the side. “Room 345.”

  The bellboy nodded. “This way, sir.”

  The room was the biggest hotel room Cade had ever seen, with lush carpet on the floor and red striped wallpaper. The bed looked big enough for five people, with a carved headboard that reiterated the vines and flowers theme of the front desk. The bellboy put Cade’s trunk down on a nearby stand and stood back. “Is there anything I can bring you, sir? Anything at all?”

  Cade had been standing in the middle of the room, turning around and around to take it all in. He realized he was looking like a rube.

  “Anything at all?” the bellboy repeated.

  “I dunno,” Cade said. “Bottle of whiskey?” He’d meant it as a joke, but the bellboy just nodded.

  “Very good, sir.” He closed the door behind him as he left.

  Cade resisted the temptation to take of his boots and wriggle his toes on the carpet. It only took him a few minutes to unpack his things from his trunk and stow them in the dresser on one side of the room. There was a window next to the dresser, with its shade pulled down. Cade walked over, raised the shade, and opened the window. It overlooked a narrow alley between The Royal and the office building next door. The sounds of the nearby street were muffled, so he left the window open to get some fresh air, or what passed for fresh air in this city.

  There was a knock on the door. Cade answered to find the bellboy standing there with a fifth of whiskey and a pair of small glasses on a silver tray. He entered silently and placed the tray on top of the dresser. “We also have ice available, if you wish,” he said as he turned to Cade.

  “Ice? Who the—never mind. That’ll be fine.”

  “Very good, sir.” He didn’t make any move to leave.

  “Ummm…that’s all I need right now, sonny.”

  “Yes, sir.” The bellboy cleared his throat, but didn’t move.

  Cade realized he was waiting for a tip. He grimaced. He hoped Mrs. Hamrick made good soon on her promise to get him his pay, because he was about tapped out. He fished in his pockets and came out with a dime. “More where this came from, soon,” he said as he held it out.

  The bellboy looked at the offered coin as if Cade was holding out a mouse turd. “One can hope.” But he took the dime and left.

  Cade took the bottle. It was Jesse Moore. AA quality. Top of the line. He poured a couple of fingers of the rich brown liquid into the glass and took a drink. It went down like smooth fire. He fervently hoped that “Mrs. Townsend” had the bill covered for that as well, else he might find himself sweeping floors in this place to pay his bill. He hung his hat on the bedpost, sat down, and poured another drink.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Cade was dozing on the bed when a knock came at the door. He startled awake and reached for the pistol he’d hung in its holster on the bedpost. Then he recollected where he was and reached for his boots instead. As he was getting them on, the person outside knocked again.

  “Hold your damn water,” Cade grumbled. “I’m comin’.” It suddenly occurred to him that his visitor might well be Marjorie Hamrick. “Be there in a second,” he called out again in less grouchy tone.

  It wasn’t Mrs. Hamrick. The man from the front desk stood there, smiling pleasantly. “Sorry for the interruption, sir. I was asked to inform you that your presence is requested for dinner.”

  “Dinner? Who?”

  “The personage who made the request wished to remain anonymous for the moment.”

  “Well, that’s damned mysterious,” Cade muttered, more to himself than to the front desk man.

  “Yes, sir,” was the only reply.

  “So, when is this dinner?”

  “Now, sir. If you require more time to get ready, I can—”

  “No, no…” Cade said. If it really was Marjorie waiting for him, he didn’t want to keep her waiting. “Wait,” he said. “Is there some kind of fancy dress required for this establishment?”

  The desk man’s smile became more pained. “No, sir. You’ll be in a private dining room.”

  “Well, lead on, then.” He briefly thought of going back for the pistol, but decided against it. He figured he was pretty safe here, especially if it was Marjorie waiting for him.

  It wasn’t. As the front desk man opened the door of the second-floor dining room, a man Cade didn’t know stood up from the other side of the dining table. He was short and wiry, bald on top, but with an impressive set of black sideburns. Cade noted that his skin was deeply tanned, the complexion of a man who spent most of his time outdoors. His eyes were bright blue and fixed on Cade with a steely intensity. He held out his hand.

  “Mistah Cade,” he said in a somewhat gravelly voice, surprisingly deep for such a small man. He had a pronounced New England accent. “Pleashah to make your acquaintance. My name is Jedidiah Alton. Captain of the Marjorie Ann.”

  Puzzled, Cade took the hand and shook it. “Pleased to meet you, Captain.”

  Alton gestured to the table. “Please. Sit.” It was a voice that sounded used to being obeyed.

  Cade was even more puzzled to see that only one place was set, the one he was being pointed to. Alton’s place had only a heavy glass mug before it, half full of beer. Whoever this captain was, he wasn’t staying for dinner. Cade sat down, never taking his eyes off Alton. He wondered if leaving the gun behind was such a good idea.

  Alton sat down and took a drink from his beer. He gestured to Cade with it. “Care for one?”

  “I’ll wait.”

  Alton nodded. “I would do the same in your position.” He had a clipped, precise way of speaking, as if he was biting the excess off of every word. “No doubt youah wondering who I am and what I’m doin’ here.”

  “No doubt,” Cade said.

  Alton reached down for something next to his chair. Cade stiffened, but all the captain came up with was a large envelope. “Mrs. Hamrick apologizes for the mystery.” He handed the envelope across the table. “But I believe this will explain everything.”

  Cade took the envelope. It was heavy. “Do you now?”

  Alton smiled thinly. “I figgah it will. I have no idea what’s in it.”

  Cade wen
t to open the envelope, but it was sealed. He decided to wait until this Alton fellow was gone. “So,” he said, laying it on the table, “what’s your connection with Mrs. Hamrick, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  A waiter had appeared from wherever the waiters in these places seemed to hide themselves. He looked quizzically at Alton’s glass. Alton shook his head. The waiter turned to Cade. “Something to drink, sir?”

  “Sure,” Cade said. “Beer.” The waiter nodded and left.

  “No trouble with you asking,” Alton said as the waiter left. “I’ve worked for Mrs. Hamrick’s father since befoah Marjorie was born.”

  Cade remembered that Marjorie told him her father had gotten rich in the shipping business. “Is her father still alive?”

  Alton shook his head. “Gone these five year.”

  “So…she owns the company now?”

  Alton stood up. “That, Mr. Cade, is a complicated question. One you’ll need to ask her about. What I can tell you is that I’ve known Marjorie since she was a girl. Mr. Townsend, her father, was one of the best men I’ve ever known, and he asked me to help look after her. So there’s very little I would not do for her.” He stood up. “She wanted me to tell you that your room and meals here are on her account.” He smiled. “But she asked that you please be moderate with the whiskey.”

  “Okay.” Cade was even more baffled than before. But there was one question uppermost in his mind. As Alton reached the door, he said, “Wait.”

  Alton turned back to him, one hand still on the door. “Yes?”

  “Can you tell me where she is? If she’s safe? And the little girl?”

  Alton smiled. “Theyah perfectly safe, Mr. Cade. But that’s all I can tell you.”

  “Thanks,” Cade said. He wanted to ask if he could see her, but the words stuck in his throat.

  As Alton left, the waiter returned with his beer and placed it on the table. “And for dinner, sir?”

  “Um, beefsteak, I guess. Rare. And roast potatoes.”

  “Very good, sir.” He left Cade alone with the envelope.

  Cade stared at it for a long minute, then picked it up and slit the seal with the butter knife. Inside was a number of gold coins. Cade shook them out on the table. A folded piece of paper fell out as well. Cade picked it up and unfolded it. It was a note, written on fine paper in a strong hand.

  Mr. Cade, please forgive the roundabout manner in which this comes to you. I am also ashamed and embarrassed by my husband’s beastly and unjust behavior toward you. You are a good man and deserved better.

  I would like to employ you on my own account to continue looking into the question of McMurphy and who it is that wishes my family harm. Enclosed I believe you will find sufficient funds to pay the wages owed to you by my husband, as well as an advance on future earnings.

  I have faith in your abilities and your judgment. When you believe you have an answer, please contact Captain Alton, on board the clipper ship Marjorie Ann, at the Gold Wharf.

  I do not believe my husband has my best interest or that of our daughter at heart or that he is being completely truthful. Our safety depends on your finding out the truth. I implore you to do your utmost.

  Marjorie Ann Townsend Hamrick

  Cade put the note down and counted out the coins. Thirty dollars in gold and silver. He sat back in his chair and stared at the pile in front of him. With that money, he could get out of this town, set himself up nicely somewhere else, away from these rich people and their problems. But he didn’t have it in him to run. You are a good man, she’d written. He’d not heard that often. He hoped he could live up to it.

  The dinner came. It was an excellent meal, but he barely tasted it. He was too intent on planning what to do next.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  “When can I go home?” Mei asked. She was seated in a chair in Mr. Kwan’s library. Lin was standing behind her, combing her hair.

  “Don’t you like it here, Little Sister?” The White Orchid carefully undid a tangle.

  “I’m worried about my grandparents. And I know they’re worried about me.”

  “They’re fine. They’re under Mr. Kwan’s protection, and everyone in our community knows it. And I’ll make sure that they know you’re safe.” She put down the comb. “All done.”

  “Thank you.” Mei turned in the chair to face her. “And thank you for all you’ve done. Please don’t think me ungrateful. But this is not my home. And I miss my family.”

  “Ah.” Lin’s face lost all expression.

  Mei reached out and took her hand. “I’ve offended you. I’m sorry. But don’t you know how it feels to miss your family? Your parents? Your grandparents? “

  Lin gave Mei’s hand a squeeze, then pulled away. “My parents are back in Guangzhou.” She sat down, not looking at Mei. “And no, I don’t miss them at all. In fact, I hope they are long dead and buried.”

  Mei was horrified. A statement like that was close to sacrilege. “Surely you don’t mean that!”

  Lin’s face was like stone. “I do mean it. I would kill them myself if they were here.” Her expression softened as she saw the look on Mei’s face. “I’m sorry, Little Sister,” she murmured. “I don’t mean to shock you.”

  Mei shook her head. “I’m not…well, I guess I am shocked. Did they hurt you? Is that why you’re…” She stopped before she could blurt out the next words.

  Lin did it for her, smiling sadly. “A killer? A criminal?” She sighed. “I suppose it is.”

  Mei got up and walked over to where Lin was sitting. She put her hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “Would it help you to share the pain, Elder Sister?”

  Lin looked up at her and shook her head. “You are so kind. How can someone like you live in this terrible world?”

  “I’ve found that most people in this world are kind,” Mei said, “given a chance. And those who aren’t, well, it’s because of something that happened to them.” She knelt by the chair and looked into Lin’s eyes. “What happened to you?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “If it will help you, my friend, yes.”

  Lin nodded. “Take a seat, Little Sister.”

  ***

  Cade finished his meal and got up from the table. As he did, the door opened and the young waiter came in, so quickly that Cade wondered if he’d been listening at the keyhole.

  “How much do I owe you, sonny?” Cade asked.

  The waiter smiled unctuously. “Everything is on Mrs. Townsend’s account, sir.” The smile widened a bit. “Will she be joining you tonight, sir? Perhaps for dessert? A demitasse?”

  “Doesn’t look like it.” Cade took out a quarter and flipped it toward the waiter, who reached out and caught it deftly. “Think you could direct me to the nearest livery stable? I mean to take a drive and I’ll need to rent a buggy.”

  The waiter pocketed the coin. “There’s Clawson’s down the street. The front desk clerk can make arrangements.”

  “Thanks. I’ll walk down there and do it myself. I feel the need to stretch my legs a bit.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Clawson’s was still open, but the only employee in attendance was an elderly black man with a harelip and a severe limp. Cade had meant to rent a carriage with his new-found bankroll, but his eyes lit on a likely-looking gray mare in one of the stalls. A few minutes later, he was saddled up. The tack was old but serviceable, the horse docile and good-natured. Cade hadn’t realized how much he’d missed being on horseback. The gentle rhythm of the horse’s walk helped settle his mind.

  He’d been puzzling over how he was supposed to find this McMurphy. He didn’t even have a description, much less a photograph. There was the one thing that set him apart from the mass of humanity in this town: his crazy father, the manic street preacher. Find him, and he’d bet his bottom dollar he’d find McMurphy not far off. And when he did, he could get the skinny on whoever it was trying to frame the Chi
nese. But where to start? He was still awed by just how big and bustling this city was.

  Well, he couldn’t be in one of the rich neighborhoods. He’d stick out like a sore thumb. Cade had last seen the old man in Chinatown, but he didn’t think he’d be welcome there for long. The old man had looked too shabby and down at the heels to be staying in a place like The Royal. That left one possibility. Cade spurred the horse to a trot and turned toward the Barbary Coast.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  “The worst thing that can happen to a poor girl,” Lin began, “is to be born pretty.”

  Mei blinked in surprise. “I’d think the opposite was true.”

  Lin shook her head. “No. To a poor household, a pretty daughter is a commodity. Something to sell for the money to buy your way out.” She’d reverted to that stony expression. Mei could almost feel the rage pent up behind that dam, and she began to feel a little afraid.

  Lin must have read her expression, because she smiled. “Do you think I’m being vain, Little Sister, when I talk about being pretty?”

  “No,” Mei answered sincerely. “There’s no sense in denying it. You are beautiful. Truly the most beautiful lady I have ever seen.”

  The White Orchid acknowledged the compliment with a slight inclination of her head. “Thank you. But my father didn’t see me as someone to be cherished. He couldn’t wait for me to reach the age when he could peddle me to some rich man. Like a prize heifer.” She’d been speaking calmly until then, but the last words were as bitter as gall.

  “What about your mother?”

  Lin sighed. “She was beaten down before I was born. She had no voice left.”

  “Beaten…by your father?”

  “Yes. And by life. She was no better than my father’s slave. When the man came to take me away, she didn’t even cry.”

  Mei felt the tears starting in her own eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Lin went on as if she hadn’t heard. Her eyes were far away. “The man he sold me to was a merchant. A fat, disgusting pig. He actually licked his lips and stared at me while he was counting out the money.”