Chapter Twenty-one
The first inclination I had that there was trouble, came one evening at the slaughterhouse offices. I was sitting at my desk filling out invoices after returning from a long trip buying beef. Lucinda slipped through the door into the small room like a fugitive.
“Are there any Chinese people working here at the slaughterhouse?” Lucinda asked, with panic in her voice. I was used to her abrupt manner but for the first time in our long association she seemed frightened.
“Hello, my dear,” I replied. “What the hell brings you to Butchertown?”
This was her second visit to my place of business in the time we lived in San Francisco. Seeing her here, visibly upset, set me back.
“Answer the question, Charlie. Do any Chinamen work here? I have to know if the Chinese know we are married.”
“We spend so little time together that I would be surprised if anyone knows we are married. To answer your question, there are Russians, Irish, Serbian, Portuguese and Germans but I don’t remember seeing any Chinese.”
“There has been a misunderstanding with one of the Tongs. Do you know what a Tong is?”
“I read the paper when I get a chance. It’s a Chinese social organization.”
“They are violent Chinese gangs who have much influence. They also employ assassins,” she said.
Something had gotten Lucinda’s full attention. She took a look through the window of the office, then walked over and blew out the lamp, so that we were sitting in the dying light of sunset.
“They are trying to kill me.”
“There are a lot of Chinese in San Francisco, but I can’t imagine there are any that are out to kill you.”
As I said that, she unwound a red silk scarf she was wearing around her neck. Turning her body toward me, she lifted up her chin. A slash mark, two inches long, crossed her neck. It was enough of a cut that I could see it in the fading light.
“They tried to cut my throat, Charlie. One of them grabbed my hair and pulled my head back and sliced at my jugular. I am still bleeding. This cut isn’t imaginary.”
I peered closer at the wound. A tiny amount of blood leaked onto the collar of her expensive dress. A little deeper and the cut would have opened a vein.
“Who is trying to kill you? What did you do?” I said, alarmed at the sight of her blood.
“I can assure you, this is not my fault. You know I have been running my stallion at the race track south of the city.” Lucinda owned a fine thoroughbred stallion, a gift from her father. The horse had won so many races in Monterey, no one would bet against him there, so Lucinda brought him north.
“I knew you had brought your horse up here from Monterey, but I didn’t know you were riding him in races.”
“I am not riding him. I hired an Indian boy for that. I have been entering the stallion in match races and I have won quite a bit of money. Now, there is a problem.”
She had backed all the way into the corner of the room and was talking to me in a whisper. Her behavior unnerved me enough that I opened my desk drawer, took out a small thirty-two caliber revolver and slipped it into my pocket.
Lucinda looked around the office. She walked to the window, looked out, and then backed into the corner again. She was talking in such a low whisper, I had to stand almost on top of her to hear what she was saying.
“I met an officer from one of the China bound clipper ships. He came into the coffee shop and we became friendly. He asked if I knew of anyone who was interested in buying a packet of opium. A saloon owner mentioned to me that he knew men who were interested in the trade. I struck a bargain with the sailor. I was to receive a bundle every time the ship came back from the Orient. I would pay one hundred-fifty dollars for the bundle, and sell it for three hundred dollars.”
“You what?” I asked, my voice rising. I wanted to ask just what her relationship was with the ship’s officer and what friendly meant, exactly. However, with blood dripping down Lucinda’s neck, there were more important issues.
“Keep your voice down,” she said in a hiss.
“Did I understand you correctly? You are in the opium trade?”
“I was only the middle man, so to speak. It was no different from what you do, buying and selling cattle. Opium is not illegal, at least not for the Chinese.”
“Why would you do that? The people in that business can be dangerous.”
Lucinda sounded exasperated.
“The cattle business is dangerous. You are always saying you fear you will be killed for the gold you carry.”
Lucinda squared up and faced me, raising her nose. Some of the fire seemed to reenter her body.
“I thought you owned a coffee shop?” I asked.
“The coffee shop doesn’t make any real money. If I want to keep my horse stabled at the race track, I have to ask you or my father for money. If I want to own a carriage and a matched team to pull it, I have to ask you or my father for money. If I see a new couch or a beautiful pearl necklace I have to beg somebody to buy it for me. I would rather take a chance, and have my own money, than go on bended knee to get what I want.”
“On bended knee?” I snorted. “You have never so much as bowed your head in the rain, much less bent your knee to anyone. Besides, I have never told you no in my life.”
“When my father doesn’t want to let me have what I need, he tells me that I am married and I must ask permission from my husband. I don’t ask you because I know that you don’t have any money, except the wages my father pays you. Most of that goes toward fancy engraved silver conchos for the bridles and saddles you love so much,” she said and took another quick peek out the window. “I don’t have to justify what I do to you, Charlie Horn. Do you want to hear why I am in danger or not?”
I looked at her dark hair and pale skin in the shadows of the office and wondered why my breath always stopped the moment I saw her. I held my palms up and cocked my head. I had never told her about the hundred head of cattle I owned in Oregon or the large collection of mares I owned who raised colts I sold every year. There were advantages to Lucinda thinking I was broke.
She went on, speaking rapidly, “I came to know some Chinamen from the racetrack and the opium business. One in particular, a man by the name of Ah Lee. Ah Lee is the head of one of the Tongs. Like all Chinamen, he loves to gamble and specifically, loves to gamble on horse races. He has contacts with the clipper ships and brings in prostitutes, immigrants and opium from China. He has many Chinese working for him. He came by the coffee shop and asked to speak to me, so I went back in the alley and met with him. He said, in this truly horrible attempt at Spanish, that he liked my horse and had won money betting on him. He had a deal for me. He knew I was trading opium and he promised to buy all that I could deliver at twice the price I was getting now.”
“What did he want in return?”
“For my horse to lose a match race. That is something I would never allow.”
“Did you agree to have Ah Lee buy your opium?”
“Yes, of course. That was just good business.”
“Go on with your story,” I said, dizzy at her rationalization of the duplicity.
“We had a big race scheduled. I became afraid Ah Lee would do something to my horse, so I went down to the barn before the race.”
“What was he going to do to the horse?” I asked.
“What Ah Lee did was have a sharp stone glued in the foot of my stallion. If the stone is stuck in the horse’s frog at the right place, the horse will start to falter at the end of the race. I found the stone and took it out. Then I found out Ah Lee tried to get my jockey to throw the race. The boy only speaks his native tongue and a little bit of Spanish, so that didn’t work.”
“Did you bet on your horse?”
“I always bet on my horse. Ah Lee bet so much on the other horse, I got tremendous odds. It would have been plain ignorance not to bet my stallion. He always wins.”
“Does this Chinaman know how much mone
y you made by playing him for a fool?”
“No. I didn’t play him for a fool. He came to me with his proposal.”
“How much did Ah Lee lose?”
“I don’t know the exact amount. Whatever it was, it certainly made him mad. He tried to poison my stallion. Then two of his men tried to cut my throat when I was opening the coffee shop this morning. If I wasn’t as quick as I am, and if Gotch-Eyed Juan hadn’t been there to scare them off, they would have succeeded.”
“So, Ah Lee thought you had agreed to throw the race in return for upping your profit on the opium packet?”
“It was a misunderstanding,” she replied.
I snorted and received a glare.
“Where is your racehorse now?”
“I can’t believe you, Charlie. You are more concerned with the horse than me?”
“The horse, much like myself, is an innocent bystander.”
“I sent the Indian boy and the horse back to Monterey.”
“So, how may I put my life and general health at risk to help you avoid the consequences of your actions?”
Lucinda glared at me, then walked to the window. She looked out into the foggy night, searching for whoever was after her. Her trepidation overcame her resentment of my tone.
“I think it’s best that I go to Hawaii for a spell. They tell me it is a paradise. The clipper ships take two weeks to get there. If I spend a week in the islands, and spend another two weeks in transit back, perhaps you and Juan will have straightened this out.”
“Straightened this out? You gave this warlord the idea he had a sure bet on a horse race. Now that he lost his money, Juan and I are expected to kill him or buy him off? That is beyond the pale, even for you.”
She moved into my arms. To my surprise I felt her tremble for a second. She slipped her hands around my waist. When I came back from a trip, it would usually take less than three minutes for our clothes to fall off the moment we were alone. Like a plow horse accustomed to getting his grain at daybreak, I started to feel an overwhelming anticipation. For a moment, Lucinda didn’t notice.
“It sounds so ugly when you say it that way, Charlie. These animals that work for Ah Lee will murder me first and ask questions later. If you can’t help Juan resolve this matter, get Sandy Ellis to sit down with Ah Lee and explain why it’s smarter to let this go. That isn’t so much to ask, is it?”
I felt the excitement continue to build in me. Lucinda suddenly felt me harden and looked up.
“I would love to lie back on your desk and be with you, Charlie. It would help settle my nerves, but Juan is in the carriage waiting for us. I have secured passage on a ship. The ship leaves in two hours. Contain yourself for now and go with me to the docks. You can make sure my throat doesn’t get cut before my ship sails.”
The realization that I would not see Lucinda for several months caused me a moment of panic which dissolved into disgust at my weakness.
“Why do I end up hating myself every time you show up?”
“It’s your misfortune to love me, Charlie.”
“At least we agree on something,” I said. I reached for my coat and hat.
Gotch-Eyed Juan waited patiently in the driver’s seat of the carriage. Lucinda climbed up into the passenger seat and waited while I struggled in. Then she scooted over next to me. It was a pleasant show of affection. Then it dawned on me that she was crouching low in the seat to avoid the poisoned dart or triad hatchet, should one fly out of the darkness.
“What are you grinning at?” Lucinda hissed.
“I apologize, but I’ve never seen you afraid of anything,” I replied.
“I’m not afraid,” she announced firmly, however, she kept her head down and remained pressed up against me.
“I have obviously misunderstood why you are hiding under my arm.”
Lucinda huffed and sat up a little straighter. The glow came back into her eyes as her pride forced her upright.
“It is the knowledge that if one of these triad assassins kills me there will be no repercussions,” she said, with considerable anger.
“How is that?”
“The American law holds no sway over the triads. The Chinese won’t help the police or give them information. The killers would go back to China. No one will ever find out who killed me and so, there will be no punishment. Someone could end my life and get away with it. That is unfair.”
“How much money did this Ah Lee lose?”
She squirmed in the seat.
“Look at the moon, Charlie. There is a ring around it. Did you know that means it is going to rain?”
“How much, Lucinda?”
“I think Ah Lee said over fifteen thousand dollars, but he was so mad when he confronted me I couldn’t really understand him,” she said. I looked at her in surprise, then crouched down lower in the seat myself as we made our way to the waterfront.
Finally, we arrived at the pier where Lucinda’s Hawaii bound clipper sat. There may be a more spooky place than a San Francisco wharf in the early morning hours but I’ve never seen it.
“Everything will be fine once you get me on the ship,” she said, staying snuggled against my arm.
“How do the boats keep from running into each other? This fog is like a solid curtain,” I asked.
“The men who operate the smaller fishing boats sing opera. It helps them avoid collisions. It’s quite lovely to listen to,” she replied.
Juan pulled the team to a stop in front of the pier. Lucinda stepped out and motioned for me to join her.
Shadows of the huge warehouses darkened an already black night. A cacophony of sounds came from creaking timbers, the washing of the sea against the pilings and rats scurrying in the blackness. Sitting in the carriage, I could smell the tar on the ships and the saltwater flats. The fog was so thick, it masked the night, making everything close and intimate. I wished Lucinda wasn’t fleeing from some horrible danger she had created and we could take advantage of the moment.
“How did you arrange passage on such short notice?” I asked.
“I have friends,” she said.
“I bet you do,” I said, my jealousy replacing my desire.
“Is this really the time for your mistrust to assert itself?”
“Divorce isn’t as hard to achieve as it once was,” I replied.
“My father would never hear of such a thing or one of us would have done it already.”
A seal grunted abruptly, which caused me to turn my head. I caught the faintest movement out of the corner of my eye. Turning toward where a dray wagon was parked, I thought I saw a figure in the blackness. As I stared, the figure became a small man whose head suddenly rolled off his shoulders and moved diagonally from where we were standing. It took a shocked second to figure out I had seen a white cat jump off the short post he was sitting on and scurry up the road. Lucinda slipped behind me and pulled the small revolver from my pocket. I heard two clicks as she thumbed the hammer back.
“Un-cock the revolver before you shoot me in the butt,” I said as I felt the barrel against my backside.
“Why do you want to be difficult now? This is not the time to talk about divorce nor is it the time to talk about marksmanship.”
I sighed in resignation at the impossibility of the woman.
“I have known you my whole life and yet I continue to have more questions than answers,” I whispered to her, moving her arm so she was pointing the cocked weapon away from me.
“If you remain unsure of me then you will never get bored. Count your blessings,” she replied in a whisper.
“Bored isn’t a word that comes to mind when I think of you,” I said as I sensed more movement in the shadows. I could just see an indistinct image move again in the darkness. Suddenly, the image became clearer and I saw an arm raise and come forward. Lucinda had my pistol, which left me with a hat to defend myself. I pulled it off my head and thrust it out to meet the throwing knife hurled at us. The knife pierced the hat and fell to the g
round. Two dark figures slid out of the shadows, one holding a hatchet.
As I dropped down to retrieve the knife, Lucinda stepped in front of me and began rapidly pulling the trigger of the small handgun. There were five quick, muffled pops and then the weapon was empty. I couldn’t tell if she hit anyone or not. The two men turned back into the mist and were gone. My ears were ringing and the smell of gunpowder filled the air.
I looked over at Gotch-Eyed Juan. He was sitting in the driver’s seat of the carriage and seemed to be having trouble getting the big Colt Dragoon pistol out from where it was stuffed in his belt. Lucinda had stepped aside and was walking toward the shadows the two men had disappeared into. She stopped short of entering the fog bank. I could hear the hammer of the pistol fall on empty chambers.
I went to her and took her arm in my left hand and removed the revolver from her grasp. Her hand was shaking. I pulled her close.
“It’s not so funny now, is it?” she said in a little girl voice, and leaned against me.
“Maybe Triads aren’t the simple Chinese social clubs I thought they were. Let’s get you to the ship,” I said.
“Oh, Charlie, look at your hand,” she said. Her sleeve was soaked with blood where I had gripped it.
I looked down and saw blood freely running down my hand, dripping off my fingers onto the wet planks of the wharf. The throwing knife had gone through my hat and pierced my hand. It was hard to see how much damage had been done in the poor light.
Lucinda reached down and pulled her dress up and grasped her petticoat. Ripping a strip of cloth loose, she lifted my arm so she could wrap the wound with the cloth.
“Can you move your fingers? You need to wash your hand off so the wound doesn’t become septic.”
“I’ll do that later. Let’s get you off the dock and into the ship before more of these weasels show up.”
Juan started to climb down from the wagon.
“Stay where you are, Juan. Charlie will be back in a minute,” she said and started off down the wharf toward the ship.
“Did you see, Juan? The poor man couldn’t get his pistol free of his pants,” she said in a breathy whisper.
“He’s getting old and those Indians we ran into on the way to Oregon carved him up like a Christmas turkey. I’m surprised he can pull his pants on, let alone be effective in a gunfight. I’ll take this problem you have got yourself into up with Sandy Ellis. Where did you put your winnings from the horse race?”
Lucinda’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Why? So you can come back to California without being murdered. Sandy will be able to do a better job negotiating for your life if he has some money to give back,” I replied.
She stood in silence, facing the ship’s gang plank.
“Is the money worth more than your life?”
“There is four thousand dollars inside a small sack of coffee beans in the pantry at the house. There is another thirty-five hundred, I am taking with me to Hawaii in case I find property to buy. I’m starting to think land is safer to invest money in rather than opium. Another thing, my father must not find out about this.”
“Your father will find out about this. Sandy is his business partner and he will tell him and if he doesn’t, I will. I don’t keep secrets from your father,” I said.
“Do you enjoy being sanctimonious?” she asked.
“My hand is starting to throb. It occurs to me that if anymore Chinese assassins show up, we are out of bullets for the little revolver. I won’t be much good in a fight if I’m bleeding to death. Get on the boat. Buy some property. Perhaps you won’t need to come back.”
“You don’t really mean that, Charlie,” she said with an infuriating confidence that made me shake my head.
“No but I wish I did,” I said, and held up my bleeding hand to point at the ship.
Lucinda wrapped her arm around my neck and her mouth found mine. She kissed me fiercely for a second as she pressed herself hard against me.
“Did you ever notice we are at our best when the blood is flowing?”
“Lord save us,” I replied.
Lucinda kissed me again and walked down the gang plank. As I watched her go, I felt like something was squeezing the breath out of my lungs. She stopped and looked back.
“Stay out of the cat houses, Charlie. Take care of my Patricio. I will be back soon as you clear this up with Ah Lee,” she said and turned away.
“Keep in mind, most sailors, even the good looking ones, have the clap,” I said in loving reply. If she heard me she never looked back.
Scent of Tears
Scent of Tears Page 21
