Sarah wanted to smack him. “You can’t arrest George because he’s innocent. He didn’t kill Angel any more than I did!”
“How do you know?”
“I…I just know! Don’t you see? He saw you taking Harry out, and Minnie told him and Cora that you were arresting him for killing Angel.”
“I didn’t tell her that!” he said with some exasperation.
“But that’s what she thought.”
“Who’s Cora?”
“She’s George’s wife. It was her baby I delivered last month.”
She thought he flinched slightly, but she couldn’t be sure.
“George thought you were going to charge Harry with killing Angel, and he couldn’t let Charlie and Minnie lose both their children, so he confessed to protect Harry!”
Malloy didn’t look convinced. “Why would he do that? He’s got a wife and a new baby.”
“Because Charlie brought him to America. He’s what they call a paper son to Charlie. That’s when—”
“I know what it is.”
“Charlie also gave him a job and helped him start his own laundry business. He owes Charlie everything.”
“So he decided to pay him back by confessing to his daughter’s murder.”
“I know it sounds ridiculous, but maybe it’s some kind of Chinese honor or duty or something we can’t understand. Whatever it is, George didn’t kill Angel, and that’s the important thing.”
Malloy didn’t look convinced. For a second she thought he was going to argue with her, but then someone knocked on the door, startling them both.
Malloy was still leaning against it, so he straightened up and opened it. Miss Kelly stood there, her pretty face creased into a frown. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Detective Sergeant, but I was just informed that there’s a Chinese man downstairs to see you. He says it’s about that Chinese girl who was killed.”
12
FRANK TOLD SARAH TO STAY UPSTAIRS, BUT SHE FOLLOWED him down anyway. At least she had the good sense to stay back, as if she wasn’t with him. The fellow Miss Kelly had told him about sat on a bench as far from the newly arrested felons as he could get.
He looked like he’d seen some trouble recently, too. His hat was missing, and his clothes were dirty. Not dirty from needing to be washed, but dirty from falling down in the street a few times. His queue was scraggly, with stray hairs sticking out everywhere, and his face had a streak of dirt down one cheek and a small cut above the other eye. Both eyes were as wide as they could get and nothing short of terrified. His gaze kept darting around the room, as if he expected to be set upon at any moment and wanted to be ready. When he saw Frank, his whole body went limp with relief.
“Mr. Detective Malloy,” he exclaimed, scrambling up and hurrying over to meet Frank. “Mr. Detective Malloy, Mr. Detective Malloy,” he kept repeating happily.
Frank had the uncomfortable feeling the man was going to throw his arms around him soon, and took a step backward just in case. “Who are you, and what do you want?”
He seemed surprised Frank didn’t know him. “I am Ah Woh,” he said. “My uncle, he send me to find you.”
Frank needed another second to figure it out. “Oh, you’re Wong’s nephew,” he remembered. “Wong wants to see me?”
“Yes, yes!” He nodded vigorously.
Frank looked him over again. Like most Chinese, he’d been immaculate when Frank saw him at Wong’s house. “What happened to you?”
The young man’s face fell, and he hung his head in shame. “I am worthless.”
“Somebody beat you up because you’re worthless?”
His expression seemed to confirm it. “Uncle, he send me find you. I go police, but they say you no there. Wrong police.”
He must have gone to the precinct house, Frank thought. “Did they do this to you?” he asked, pointing to the fellow’s ruined clothes.
He shook his head. “They send me new police. Wrong police. They send me new police. Some man, they chase, in street. I fall. They hit. I run away.”
It was a pretty typical story. A Chinaman happens into a neighborhood where he isn’t known, and the local toughs decide to have a little fun at his expense. What really annoyed him was the way the other cops had given him the runaround. “How did you find me?”
“Man tell me right police. You here,” he said simply. “I wait, long time, but you here.”
Frank glanced over to the desk sergeant. “You knew I was questioning Chinese men,” he growled.
The desk sergeant shrugged unrepentantly. “You were busy, and he looks like a bum.”
Frank bit back his instinctive reply, aware of Sarah standing well within hearing distance. He’d deal with the desk sergeant later. He turned back to Ah Woh. “Why did your uncle send you to find me?”
“He say you come. He tell you about dead girl.”
“He knows who killed Angel Lee?”
“He not say. He say get you,” Ah Woh explained. “You come?” he added anxiously.
Oh, yes, Frank would come. He wanted to know what Wong had discovered. He was the only Chinese man of Angel’s acquaintance whom Frank hadn’t eliminated as a suspect. Until George had confessed, that is, but Frank wasn’t putting too much stock in that story. Then Frank remembered something. “Is the O’Neal girl still there?”
A flicker of distaste passed over Ah Woh’s face, but he said, “Yes.”
Frank looked over his shoulder to where Sarah stood, straining to hear everything they were saying. “Mrs. Brandt, I have to question Mr. Wong. Could you come along with me to chaperone the young woman there?”
The shock on her face was gratifying. At least he hadn’t lost the ability to surprise her. She recovered quickly, though. “Certainly,” she said, as proper as you please, and accompanied him and the boy out of the building.
Tom, the doorman, greeted her by name and bade her good afternoon. She rewarded him with one of those smiles that haunted Frank’s dreams. With a sigh, he followed her down the front steps, Ah Woh in their wake.
“I’m not complaining,” she said as soon as they were safely out of hearing distance of the newspaper reporters who constantly hovered around Headquarters in search of a story. “But why do you need me to come with you?”
Frank glanced over his shoulder, but Ah Woh was keeping a discreet distance. “To keep that girl busy,” he said. “I don’t know what her place is in all this, but she isn’t going to let Wong tell me anything that she doesn’t want me to hear.”
“What wouldn’t she want you to hear?”
Frank silently debated telling her, but then decided it was inevitable anyway. “I think Wong is involved in Angel’s death.”
“Do you think he killed her?” she asked in surprise.
“I think it’s likely. The killer was a Chinese man, and he’s the only one who might have wanted her dead and who also fits the description.”
“Surely, he doesn’t intend to confess,” Sarah said.
“No, but he might have decided to try to pin it on somebody else. That’s why I need you to take care of the girl for me. I want to get him alone so I can get him to tell me the truth.”
Her frown was disapproving. “How are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know yet,” he lied. “But I don’t want the girl around when I decide.”
She gave him one of her looks, which he ignored. Then she asked, “What’s the girl like?”
“She’s no innocent, that’s for sure. If anything, I think she’s got the upper hand on Wong. Seemed like he was doing whatever she wanted.”
She gave him a little smile. “A young girl and an older man,” she said smugly. “That’s usually the way it is.”
Frank grunted in disgust and picked up his pace, making conversation virtually impossible. It seemed to take forever to reach Wong’s house, but at last they did. Frank and Sarah stood back and allowed Ah Woh to unlock the front door.
Ah Woh called out something in Chinese to announce th
eir arrival as they entered the front hallway.
No one answered. The house seemed unnaturally still, as if no one was home. Maybe Wong had gotten tired of waiting and gone out looking for Frank himself.
Ah Woh called out again, more loudly this time.
“Maybe he’s, uh, upstairs,” Frank suggested diplomatically. If Wong was busy with the girl, he wouldn’t be likely to come running just because they’d finally shown up.
Ah Woh rubbed his hands on his shirt and looked upward uncertainly. He probably didn’t relish the job of going upstairs and knocking on his uncle’s bedroom door. “I look,” he said after a moment and turned toward the door that opened into Wong’s parlor. He pushed it open and cried out in surprise.
Frank rushed over and instantly saw what had shocked the boy. Wong lay in a heap in the middle of the parlor floor in a pool of blood. Behind him, Sarah gasped, and he silently cursed himself for bringing her along.
Ah Woh made a keening sound, half-grief and half-horror. His slight body swayed, and Frank caught him just in time to keep him from falling over. He hustled the boy over to one of the chairs that sat in the hallway and lowered him into it.
“Is the girl there, too?” Sarah asked, peering into the room.
“I didn’t see her,” Frank said, hurrying to close the door so she couldn’t see the body.
“What’s her name?”
“Keely,” Frank replied as he pulled the door shut.
“Keely!” Sarah shouted. “Keely, where are you?”
Silence greeted her, and the next thing Frank knew, she’d grabbed her skirts and started running up the stairs. Frank took off after her. If the girl was dead upstairs, he didn’t want Sarah to be the one to find her.
“Keely!” she kept shouting. When she reached the second floor, she started throwing open each door in turn and looking inside. Before Frank could catch her, she came to Wong’s bedroom. The huge bed obviously belonged to the master of the house, and a human form made a mound beneath the rumpled bedclothes. Black hair spread across the pillow. “Keely!” Sarah shouted. The form didn’t move.
“Sarah!” Frank tried, but she was already at the bed.
“Keely!” she cried, pulling back the covers. The girl was naked, Frank saw in the first instant. In the second, he registered that there was no blood on her. Sarah shook her violently. “Keely, wake up!”
The girl groaned. Sarah shook her again, and Keely made a feeble effort to push her away.
“Is she all right?” Frank asked.
“I don’t see any wounds,” Sarah said, still shaking the girl. “Keely, can you hear me?”
“Go away,” the girl muttered.
“She might be drugged, but she’s alive,” Sarah said. “Go on downstairs. I’ll take care of her.”
Frank was only too glad to leave the girl to Sarah’s tender mercies. He fled back to the dead body. At least that was something he knew how to handle.
Sarah slapped the girl’s face lightly, and finally her eyes popped open. She looked more mad than anything. “Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
“My name is Mrs. Brandt,” Sarah told her. “Detective Sergeant Malloy brought me.”
“Are you some kind of police lady?” Keely asked with a puzzled frown. She looked like a painting of a wanton, Sarah thought, lying on the bed with her glowing young flesh and her tousled hair.
“No, I’m a nurse. Are you all right?”
The girl was awake now and growing more disgruntled by the minute. “Of course I’m all right,” she said indignantly. “Johnny wouldn’t hurt me. We’re getting married.” She suddenly noticed she was exposed and jerked the covers back over her. “Who let you in here, anyways? Was it Ah Woh? He’s so stupid! Wait ’til I tell Johnny.”
“Keely, when was the last time you saw him? Mr. Wong, I mean?”
She didn’t like the question. “I don’t know. Today sometime. Before I went to sleep. Why? Where is he?”
“He’s downstairs,” Sarah said carefully. “When did you go to sleep?”
“I don’t know,” she said petulantly. “What does it matter? I want to see Johnny.”
“Try to remember. Was it after breakfast?”
She was growing alarmed. “I guess so. Johnny brought me some tea, and then I got sleepy. I want to see Johnny.” She sat up, holding the covers to her chest.
“I need to tell you something first,” Sarah said.
“I don’t want to hear it. I want to see Johnny!”
“I’m afraid Mr. Wong is dead,” Sarah said.
Keely stared at her for a long moment as various emotions played across her young face. Finally, she said, “No, he’s not. I want to see him.”
“No, you don’t,” Sarah assured her. “You’ll want to remember him the way he was.”
She gave Sarah another incredulous look and then bolted from the bed, dragging a fistful of covers with her. “Johnny!” she screamed, nearly bowling Sarah over when she tried to stop her. “Johnny!”
Sarah raced after her, but the girl was too fast. Her bare feet made slapping sounds on the bare wood of the hallway and down the stairs. She made a feeble effort to wrap the covers around her as she ran, but they mostly just dragged behind her. Sarah had to slow down to keep from stepping on them.
Keely stopped when she reached the bottom of the stairs. She glanced at Ah Woh, who still sat where Malloy had left him, staring straight ahead in shock. Then she turned toward the parlor door, which Malloy had closed behind him.
“Johnny!” Keely cried and ran toward the door. She threw it open and stumbled inside, stopping dead when she saw Wong’s bloody body. She screamed just as Sarah reached her.
Sarah grabbed for the girl, ready to wrap her arms around her and drag her away, but Keely broke free and lunged for the body. To Sarah’s horror, Keely fell to her knees in the pool of blood and flung herself on Wong.
Malloy roared something incomprehensible, and Sarah stared, helpless.
“Johnny, wake up!” Keely was shouting hysterically. “Johnny, don’t leave me!” She’d lost her grip on the blanket and was sprawled on the floor completely naked and bloody.
“Do something!” Malloy shouted at Sarah. “Get her out of here!”
Galvanized, Sarah snatched up the nearest blanket and threw it over the girl’s naked back. “Come on, Keely,” Sarah said, catching her by the arms and hauling her to her feet.
“Johnny!” Keely was still screaming, but more weakly now as the shock began to settle over her.
Sarah wrapped the blanket completely around her and turned her away from the awful sight. “Come with me, Keely,” she said firmly, and the girl allowed her to lead her out into the front hall.
Ah Woh seemed to have come out of his initial shock. He was staring at Keely with undisguised loathing. The girl had a smear of blood on her face, and she didn’t seem to even notice him sitting there. Sarah led her back upstairs and into the bedroom. She sat her down in an elegant chair in one corner of the room.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Keely said in a small voice.
“Yes, he is.” Sarah pulled another cover off the bed and wrapped it around the girl, too. She was in shock, and she might start shivering soon.
Keely reached out to adjust it and saw the blood on her hand. She moaned. “I want to wash it off! I need to take a bath and wash it off!”
“Is there a bathroom here?” Sarah asked.
“Yes, in there.” She pointed at a door, and when Sarah opened it, she discovered a lavishly appointed bath with marble floor and fixtures. She turned on the spigots in the tub full blast.
FRANK WATCHED IN AMAZEMENT AS SARAH TOOK THE girl away. He was sure of it now. Keely O’Neal was crazy. He’d never imagined she could care for Wong that much. He’d seen mothers throw themselves on their dead children or wives on their husbands. He’d seen men clinging to their dead wives, too, but that wasn’t the kind of relationship Keely and Wong had.
He looked down at
the body in disgust. At least he’d had time to examine everything before she got here, because she’d certainly messed it up too badly now to ever guess what had really happened. From what he’d surmised, Wong had been sitting on the sofa. He must have been entertaining his killer. The killer was someone Wong trusted and had no reason to fear, because he’d picked up the fireplace poker and come up behind Wong and crushed his skull. Wong probably hadn’t known what hit him. He’d slumped to the floor, dead or unconscious. Probably unconscious, because the amount of blood indicated he’d lain there awhile bleeding before his heart had stopped and the blood flow along with it. One blow was all it had taken. The question now was who had struck it.
Somehow, Frank wasn’t surprised to find that Wong had a telephone. He’d already heard the groaning of the pipes as water struggled to reach the floor above, telling him of the luxurious plumbing system. Keely must have thought she was in heaven, living in a place like this, he thought as he picked up the phone and asked the operator to connect him with Police Headquarters.
WHEN SARAH HAD GOTTEN KEELY OUT OF THE TUB, dried off, and wrapped in a robe that had obviously belonged to Wong, she looked around for some clothes for her to wear. Malloy would want to question her, and then they’d have to take her somewhere, probably back to her family. She couldn’t do that in a thin silk robe.
“Where are your clothes?” Sarah asked, looking in vain in the drawers and the clothes press.
“I don’t have any,” she said, adjusting the robe. “Just what I was wearing when I first came,” she added at Sarah’s shocked look. “Ah Woh took them to wash, I think. I never needed them after that. Johnny liked me best with no clothes on.”
“Well,” Sarah said briskly. “I’ll ask Ah Woh if he knows where they are. You’ll need them now, I think.”
“Yeah, I’ve had enough of wearing Johnny’s clothes,” she said, looking askance at the robe she was hugging around herself. “What will happen to me?” she asked after a moment.
Murder In Chinatown Page 19
