by Jake Logan
He took one last look at Little Pete’s fortress building and finally headed back to the museum. He needed a few more details from Sir William before making another attempt to recover the jade from Lai Choi San.
“A most curious question, my dear boy.”
Slocum wished Sir William would not call him “my dear boy,” but that was the British explorer’s manner of speaking. From all Slocum had seen, Sir William might not be able to remember names. He never called anyone by his name. Or her name. Slocum glanced over at Tess Lawrence, who watched Sir William closely.
“One I need answered, though, and you are the only expert around.”
“Yes, quite. The surviving museum staff seems to have, what’s the expression? Hightailed it? Beaten off in the tall grass?”
“Hightailed it,” Slocum said, seeing Tess blush. After the deaths of the men on the staff, everyone else had either quit or gone on sabbatical until Sir William left. The owner of the museum had put advertisements in the paper asking for new staff but had been unable to find adequate personnel. Sir William had agreed to remain on the premises until the absent curator could be found.
“Tell me what a junk is like. Inside, outside, everything.”
“One of the Chinese ships? That is a strange request, my dear boy.”
Slocum forced himself not to clench his fists and hit the man for using that phrase again. He needed information. Sir William could not know that it would not recover the missing crown.
“Why do you want to know, Mr. Slocum?” Tess fluttered about, looking upset. She was lovely but Slocum thought she needed to take a bit more sun to do something about her flightiness. He knew she was unaccustomed to the morass of deaths and fights she had endured the past few days, but there was no call for her to be such a hothouse flower.
“I can’t be certain, but I think the crown is on a junk out in the harbor.”
“Ah, I see. Chinese sailors, junk, that’s where the crown must be. Splendid deduction.”
Slocum wondered if Sir William realized how the term my dear boy grated on him because he did not use it again, though it almost sprang to his lips.
“How do I get aboard without being seen? The junk fired on a naval launch this afternoon and put a few holes in it. Until a U.S. frigate returns to port, there’s nothing the officials can do.”
“So you intend to take matters into your own hands? Bravo! That’s the spirit. I say, I can leave Miss Lawrence in charge here and come with you.”
Slocum saw surprise blossom on Tess’s face at the use of her name.
“It’s better if I do this alone,” Slocum said. “They’re keeping a sharp eye out for boarders. From others I’ve asked, they are certain it is a pirate ship. The pirates would be expert at boarding other ships and repelling boarders trying to get onto their own.”
“I see, yes. Well, I have sailed with some of the South China Sea pirates and observed their battle tactics. However, nothing I saw gives insight into sneaking aboard while they are in harbor.” Sir William stroked his chin, then looked up at Slocum. “There might be a way. If you can come up on them from the stern, they might not be as likely to see you.”
“The high part of the ship? The backside?” Slocum remembered how it had risen up, even more than on the heavy cargo ships in the harbor. He had not seen any window in the rear for a sentry.
“Yes, perhaps. Their lookout will be perched high in the rigging, up at the top of the sails. Since they are anchored, the sails will be furled. This gives the lookout a better view, but it also gives him more to do. He must look in all directions, and not having other ships sailing toward him, perhaps he will be more lax.”
“I can hide in the blind spot at the stern?”
“Oh, yes, that would be capital, but you must get there first.”
“Do you really want to risk this lone-wolf attack, Mr. Slocum? Your life is not worth the return of the jade crown.”
“I beg to differ, my dear! It is worth many men’s lives. I risked my own to get the crown. Why should he be deprived of similar adventure recovering it?”
Slocum was not going to argue the point. He did not look at this as some grand adventure. It was a chore. A duty. An obligation wrapped up in his honor. More than this, he knew if he failed, Ah Ming would set the On Leong tong killers on his trail.
“Twilight,” Slocum said. “That’ll be the best time to try.”
“Tides,” Sir William said. “Be wary of the tides. They are powerful in San Francisco Bay.”
“I’ll remember that,” Slocum said. He was already planning on how best to row over to the junk and climb aboard. Once there, finding the jade crown might be difficult, but it had to be easier than reaching the boat in the first place.
Shivering from the cold, wet spray blowing off the Pacific Ocean, Slocum hunkered down in the tiny rowboat he had rented. The sun dipped with amazing speed into the ocean beyond the Golden Gate. The setting sun only momentarily showed the origin of the name. The peaks on either side of the mouth of the bay shone like hills of gold. Then the sun was gone and only freezing wind remained.
It was time. Slocum shoved off from the shore and began rowing. He had to constantly reorient himself because of the strong currents that Sir William had warned of. The junk was nearly a mile off. Slocum thought he could cross that distance quickly. No lookout, no matter how observant, would see the tiny chip of a boat coming at the junk from the stern. He was cloaked in darkness and had all the time in the world to cross that watery mile.
After a half hour of rowing, his arms and back began to ache. Another fifteen minutes he was close to screaming in pain. The more he aimed for the junk, the more the tide swept him away. By the time he had covered half the distance, Slocum was fighting the ebbing current that threatened to suck him out into the vast Pacific Ocean. Darkness may have been his ally but the water itself was his fierce enemy.
Slocum took a few minutes to rub his hands and straighten his back. He saw how the tide swept him away from the junk now, toward the distant lighthouse just to the north of the bay’s mouth.
He gritted his teeth, gripped the oars and began pulling with all his strength. Little by little he approached the junk, but when his strength began to fade from weariness, he lost ground fast.
Slocum knew no one aboard could see him in the dark water. More than once he had watched a slender white-clad figure come to the forecastle and look out toward San Francisco. Once he was sure whoever that might be had turned, leaned against the railing and stared out to sea—past him at the Pacific.
He was insulated from sight, but he could not get close enough to the junk to board it. He soon found himself rowing as hard as he could and losing position steadily. When he stopped rowing altogether, he realized he was being carried to the middle of the channel leading into the harbor.
Close to calling out for help, Slocum knew what his reception would be from the junk’s crew. They had no compunction against firing on a naval vessel. They might make it a competition to shoot him out of the water.
Slocum was not sure when he gave up trying to reach the junk and began rowing furiously to get out of the channel and go toward the shoreline. There was no hope for him if he was carried out into the ocean. His hands blistered and his back at the point of snapping, he finally worked free of the main tide and let eddy currents carry him toward the rocky land. His rowboat smashed into the rocks and was turned to splinters, throwing him into the cold water.
Sputtering and thrashing about, he finally found bottom, got his feet under him and staggered ashore. He collapsed on a rock where he could stare at the dark outline of the distant junk.
Getting aboard had seemed easy enough. He had been wrong. Slocum realized he had also been wrong about other things. It was time to remedy his mistaken idea that he could ever recover the body of Ah Ming’s father, and run like hell away from San Francisco.
10
Slocum trudged all the way through town and reached the museum just before da
wn. He was shivering from the cold and badly needed to get into dry clothes. He had stashed his gear in a storage room in the museum. At this time of day, he reckoned he could get cleaned up, take his gear to the Wells Fargo station and get the hell out of town before Ah Ming realized he had gone. She might have spies in the stagecoach office, and if so, Slocum would have to take care of them.
An easier way might be to steal a horse and ride like the demons of hell were nipping at his heels—in a way they would be. It pained him to cut and run like this but getting the jade crown back from Lai Choi San had proven impossible. The navy frigate would be back sometime. It might show up before the junk sailed for China, but Slocum doubted it. There was no other way of boarding Lai Choi San’s vessel and getting the jade crown needed to ransom the body of Ah Ming’s father from the Sum Yops.
He tried to think back to discover where he had gone off the rails. All the way back to the Sierra Madres and barely surviving showed him no other course to follow. He had been a pawn in a huge game of fate. He might have avoided San Francisco altogether, but he had been in this city before and liked it. Drinking away his sorrow had seemed reasonable enough at the time.
From there he had been bitten by rats, saved by the female leader of a secret Chinese society and generally used as a target by all and sundry. It was past time for him to hightail it.
“Beat off in the tall grass,” Slocum muttered, grinning. Sir William presented another of the odd highlights of his stay in San Francisco that he saw no way of avoiding.
Slocum slipped into the museum and made his way through the silent cases in the main room, going directly for the corridor leading to the storage room where he had cached his gear. He had barely stepped into the large room when he heard a sharp intake of breath. His hand flashed to the butt of his six-shooter and he half turned, going into a crouch. He kept his six-gun in its holster when he saw a pale and drawn Tess Lawrence standing to one side of the room, a pad of paper in one hand and a pencil in the other.
“John, it’s you. You scared me.”
“What are you doing out here?” Slocum came out of the gunfighter’s crouch and went to her. She had filled the top sheet of paper with long columns of names and numbers.
“I’m doing the inventory. We’re getting ready to ship the collection to Boston. On a train.”
She sounded defensive, but Slocum had other things to worry about. The hair on the back of his neck rippled constantly with imaginary hatchets cutting into his flesh. Ah Ming did not yet know he was abandoning the task of retrieving her pa’s body, but word would get back to her fast.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt, but you are working late.”
“You look a mess,” Tess said, stepping back a pace and giving him a once-over. “Have you been swimming in the bay?”
“Something like that,” Slocum said. “I tried to get aboard the junk.”
“You actually tried that? Oh.” Tess put her hand to her mouth in fright. “I thought you were only considering it.”
“I didn’t get aboard and I didn’t get the jade crown back from Lai Choi San.” Slocum wondered at her reaction. She did not seem too surprised, but then Tess was smart. Anyone dripping saltwater onto the floor of the museum just before dawn probably had not been graced with much success.
“You aren’t injured, are you?”
“I’m still in one piece. Wetter and wiser, but not hurt.”
“Good. I worried that Sir William made it sound too easy to get onto that awful pirate’s ship. She is quite infamous in the South China Sea, you know.”
“If she’s so infamous there, what’s she doing here? What makes the jade crown so important to her?”
Tess shrugged. “I cannot say. It’s valuable as an artifact, of course, as history of her people. She must have some reason to sail halfway around the world for it, though.”
“Is it worth as much as all of this?” Slocum made a sweeping gesture with his arm and immediately regretted it. He sent droplets scattering all over the glass-topped cases.
“Oh, yes, I am sure it is,” Tess said. “These are fine pieces, but there is only one jade crown.”
Slocum started to say more, then realized time was quickly passing.
“I’ve got to get my gear,” he said.
Tess looked as if she had seen a ghost.
“You’re not leaving us, are you? Y-you can’t be running off.”
“I tried to get back the jade crown. There’s no way I can get onto that ship. The navy couldn’t do it. I can’t. I’d rather be riding a pony chasing after strays.”
“John, please. Don’t go. We need you. I need you.” She was almost stammering now. She clutched at his arm and looked deep into his eyes. “The crown is so important, but Sir William’s life is more important. He needs your protection.”
“What do you need?” Slocum asked.
“You,” she said more boldly. Tess tipped her head back slightly and closed her eyes. Slocum should have walked away. He kissed her instead.
She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down hard for a kiss whose passion mounted. The woman’s intensity startled Slocum. She had been a meek little mouse, but something had changed. She pressed her body against him wantonly, wrapped a leg around his and began rubbing herself on his thigh like a cat stropping up against a table leg.
“I want you, John, I’ve wanted you from the moment I set eyes on you.”
He tried to answer, but she shut off any protest by kissing him again. Her hands left their grip behind his neck and worked down, over his broad back and finally cupped his rock-hard butt. She pulled him in closer as she continued to move sinuously.
“You’re getting all wet,” he said.
“Yes, I am, because of you.”
“I meant your clothes. I’m dripping all over the place.”
“Then we’d best get you out of those wet clothes,” she said, looking boldly at him. “Mine, too.” She took his hand and pulled him along toward the curator’s office where she had been working. Tess turned and came once more into Slocum’s arms.
They kissed as their hands roved each other’s body. Slocum was freed of his gun belt and shirt, and soon enough he had mastered the intricate fastenings of Tess’s skirt. She stepped free, and he dropped to his knees and began burrowing under her petticoats, where he found warm, sleek legs.
“Oh, yes, John. Yes.” She sighed.
He slid his hand upward under her petticoats toward the wet warmth nested between her legs. His hand brushed across her sex lips, and then his finger wiggled inward. He had to move fast to support her as she sagged down, weak in the knees.
He lifted her and swung her around to deposit her on the desk. Her arms flapped about, knocking books and papers to the floor so she could lean back. She lifted her legs, exposing herself lewdly to Slocum.
“See anything you like?” she asked needlessly.
“You have wonderful legs,” Slocum said, stroking over the calves and working upward to her thighs. Her flesh trembled beneath his touch as he worked closer and closer to the blond nest he had been fingering before. She gasped when he bent over and pressed his face down and began licking.
His hands worked around her body to her fleshy buttocks. He kneaded them like lumps of dough until she was reduced to harsh panting, then worked higher. With dextrous fingers he worked off the woman’s blouse and exposed her firm white breasts to the cool morning air.
She sagged back flat onto the desktop. Slocum worked from her bush up across her belly. His tongue dipped briefly into the well of her navel before slithering wetly even higher. When his face was firmly between the twin mounds of titflesh rising up from her chest, he began kissing and tonguing with furious strokes.
As she thrashed about, he reached down and gripped her thighs. This kept him in position to take her left breast entirely into his mouth.
“Oh, John, I…I—” He left her speechless when he began pushing the firm mound from his mouth using the tip of his t
ongue. He circled the aureola and pushed the lust-hardened nipple downward. When he was done with this breast, he jumped to the other and repeated the erotic torture.
“More, John, I want more.” She tried to sit up as she reached down to find his hardened manhood. He gulped when her feverish fingers closed around his shaft and tugged insistently. His balls tightened, and he would have gotten off then and there if he had not worked hard to control himself.
“More?” he teased. “What more could you want, other than this?” He lifted her hips off the desk and slid her forward. The plum-tipped stalk bounced off her moist sex lips, paused a moment and then worked into her heated center.
“Yes, that, oh, you’re so big in me. So big.”
He slid another couple inches into her and reveled in the heat and wetness he found. She clamped down powerfully around him until he thought she would mash him flat. When she relaxed, he thrust forward and sank completely into her.
She let out tiny trapped animal noises now. Remaining within her was taking its toll on his control. He felt his balls churning and tumbling over and over as the pressure built within his loins. He felt like a boiler ready to explode. Withdrawing slowly, he tormented her and aroused her and made her scream out in stark pleasure.
When only the tip of his manhood remained within her, he paused, got some control back and then rushed in. Faster and faster he moved now, pistoning like a locomotive building up steam. The friction of his sensitive flesh against her female channel mounted until there was no turning back. He caught at her ass and lifted it so their crotches would grind together intimately. Hips rotating and thrusting, he drove even deeper into her seething soft interior.
“Yes, oh, yes, yes,” she shrieked. She half rose off the desk, then fell back, arching her back and grinding herself into him. Slocum managed to draw back and thrust a few more times before he exploded like a stick of dynamite in her velvet-lined tunnel.
