by Jake Logan
This time felt different, though.
Lai Choi San disappeared from the deck. Slocum rowed just a little harder for the other side of the Golden Gate.
12
“They are out of range, Captain,” complained Sung.
“No one asked your thoughts,” Lai Choi San said coldly. She placed her hands on the railing and watched as Sir William and the other rowed furiously to get out of range. She had no compunction about killing the black marketeer and his two men, but the one with Sir William fascinated her. She had no time for fascinations, however. Lai Choi San turned to her first mate.
“I would go into San Francisco,” she said. “I want you and three of the crew to accompany me.”
“Only three, Captain?”
“Where I go there will be no need for more,” she said. “Hurry, Sung, before you anger me.”
The mate bobbed his head and backed away. Lai Choi San let out a soft sigh. Sung was a fool, but he was loyal. Since she had let him live after his failure, he was likely a devoted fool. Granting him continued life had been a boon she seldom gave, but Lai Choi San was nothing if not practical. Sung was an experienced seaman and had acquitted himself well on the journey from the Flowery Kingdom. She would need his skill going home.
“Going home,” she said, a far-off look in her ebony eyes. How she longed to see China again! She would again be in her beloved homeland before the Jade Emperor. With the stolen crown.
She sighed again. Sir William obviously did not have the crown if he and his henchman had dared come to her ship and offer a ransom for its return. Lai Choi San closed her hands on the railing again. She would have set sail long ago for China if the jade crown had come into her grasp. If Sir William did not have it, that meant someone else did. Recovering it would be the work of an afternoon.
Sung needlessly called to the men lowering the small boat to indirectly tell his mistress they were ready. She walked with measured step to the side of the junk, then swung with the agility born of long practice onto a rope and slid down lightly to the boat. Within minutes they were rowing directly for the San Francisco docks.
Lai Choi San sat quietly in the prow, considering her options for recovering the crown. All would fall into place soon enough, if she applied the proper grease to the rails of underworld commerce.
“A carriage, Captain?” Sung waited for her answer as she climbed from the boat onto the dock. Her snow-white garb remained unsullied by the slightest speck of dirt. Walking in San Francisco would certainly soil her clothing.
“No,” she said. “I want everyone to know I am coming and have adequate time to prepare.”
Sung bowed deeply, then pointed to the spots where he wanted the crewmen to walk. Lai Choi San noted that he was wise in his choices. No street thief would be able to approach her, saving her the need for dispatching a worthless remnant of humanity herself. Head high, step stately, Lai Choi San began her journey through San Francisco as she headed for Dupont Gai and Chinatown. It took more than an hour for her to arrive in front of the Sum Yop tong headquarters.
A quick glance at the mortared front and the recent patchwork covering an explosion convinced her to find another way into the building. Without breaking stride, Lai Choi San continued to the side of the building and found the alley. Her quick eyes saw the way the dirt had been churned here, indicating many feet had come this way recently. She halted, did a precise turn to her right and faced the door. Aware that the Sum Yop members on the roof watched her every move, she did nothing.
Sung came and dropped to the ground in front of her, head bowed low.
“Mistress, should I break down the door? It is wrong to keep you waiting.”
“It is wrong, but Little Pete does so,” she said loudly. “Perhaps he is not home. Perhaps he does not care for what I can offer.”
Sung wisely did not speak. He had done his part. Lai Choi San waited for the count of ten, then did her precise right turn, but before she could take even a single step, the door opened. Little Pete came out, bowing and scraping.
“Madame, welcome to my humble abode.”
“You live here?” Lai Choi San could not keep the contempt from her voice, nor did she want to. “Perhaps I should seek others. The On Leong are not far from here.”
“Please, madame, allow me to offer tea.”
“From China?”
“From India,” Little Pete said with only a hint of regret.
“You should have tea from China.” She clapped her hands. One of her crewman hurried over, bowing. Both hands extended in front of him, he held out a small package for Little Pete. “It is a small gift, but perhaps it will show my earnest desire for friendship between us.”
Little Pete bowed lower and accepted it. “Your friendship is a thing to be cultivated,” he said cautiously. He backed away and ushered Lai Choi San inside.
She looked neither left nor right but missed nothing as they twisted through the maze of crates. Her nose wrinkled at the stench of dynamite but she said nothing. Little Pete bowed deeply and allowed her to enter a sumptuous room hung with fine silk curtains. Posh pillows were arranged on the floor in a semicircle around a low teakwood table already set with a tea set.
Lai Choi San sank down gracefully, knees on a pillow. Little Pete followed so he faced her across the teakwood table. They were alone in the room, but Lai Choi San felt eyes on her. Little Pete’s hatchet men were watching, within a simple call’s distance should their leader require their deadly services.
After exchanging a few pleasantries and Little Pete pouring the tea for her, Lai Choi San got down to the reason she had come.
“The crown is missing,” she said. “The Jade Emperor will be most upset if he cannot wear it at the summer festival.” She sipped at her tea and watched Little Pete closely for his reaction. Not even a flicker of interest betrayed him.
“He has never attended the summer festival without it. Nor have any of his predecessors. This would be a terrible loss of face,” Little Pete said.
“We are agreed on this point,” Lai Choi San said. She sipped again at the bitter tea. It was not even from India, she guessed. Ceylon, with its inferior product, was more likely. It was all she had expected from a minor tong leader in a foreign devils’ city.
“What would the emperor give for the return of the jade crown?” Little Pete wondered aloud. His keen eyes fixed on hers.
“The emperor would be most appreciative,” she said. “He would not want his far-flung servants to lack for rifles.” She carefully put down the teacup. “His loyal servants, that is.”
“I seek one day to return to the land of my birth,” Little Pete said, “as do all born in the Celestial Kingdom. If I had this jade crown I would certainly be the joyous first to see that it was restored to the head most deserving of wearing it.”
“Fifty rifles,” Lai Choi San said, as if thinking aloud. “That would be a fair price for the jade crown.”
“Rusted muskets are of no use,” he replied.
“New rifles, modern weapons,” she countered.
“What good are fifty rifles without ammunition?”
“Of course, you are right,” she said graciously. “This is all nothing but idle talk. Guns for a relic dating to the Tang Dynasty.” She watched him closely and saw the flare of greed.
“If I or any member of the Sum Yop find the crown, we would be honored to restore it to the emperor.”
“Do you know who has it?” Being so blunt carried risks. Lai Choi San saw the briefest confusion on Little Pete’s face. The Sum Yop did not have the jade crown.
“We shall make inquiries,” the tong leader said.
“Make them quickly,” Lai Choi San urged. She bowed slightly, then rose. She left the room without a backward glance at Little Pete. If anyone in San Francisco could find the jade, it was Little Pete. How long it would take him to retrieve the emperor’s crown was another matter.
Lai Choi San hoped it would be soon. She did not mind Sir William hunt
ing for the jade crown. He was a buffoon but the man with him was a different matter. If any of the foreign devils could find the emperor’s lost crown, he might be the one.
“Where has she gone?” Little Pete lounged back on the cushions, sipping at his tea. How vile was the tea that Lai Choi San had given him. The pirate had no taste. She could at least have stolen a better quality, perhaps from Ceylon.
A burly hatchet man bowed deeply and said, “She returned immediately to the docks. She and her pirate scum are rowing back to the junk.”
“So I was the only one she asked to recover the jade crown,” mused Little Pete. “What does that tell me?” he muttered to himself, then put his teacup down on the table. His fingers drummed as he thought.
“No one else spoke to her?”
“Only her first mate. The one called Sung,” answered Little Pete’s henchman.
“She wants the Sum Yop to retrieve the jade crown, and she does not know where it is. In exchange for the crown, she will give us fifty new rifles and ammunition. That is a trade worthy of an emperor.”
The hatchet man remained silent, staring emotionlessly at his leader.
“The one named Slocum wants to deal with us, but he does not have the crown. The Britisher does not have it—now. The pirate does not have the jade crown in her possession, but all three want it.”
“As does Ah Ming,” the hatchet man said.
“Ah Ming wants it only to recover the bones of her father.”
“Should I toss the body into the bay for the sharks?”
“No,” Little Pete said, shaking his head. “Leave the bones in the vault. We might find ourselves in possession of the jade crown the pirate queen wants so badly through trade with the On Leong.” He muttered to himself, then asked aloud, “Why does she want the crown? I detected desperation in her voice.”
“Ah Ming?”
“No, no, you fool,” snapped Little Pete. “The pirate. Lai Choi San. She is willing to do anything for the crown.” He stretched out on the cushions and folded his hands over his protuberant belly. “She will give us rifles.”
“We can use more guns,” said his minion.
“We will take the rifles she offers, then.”
“The Sum Yop have the crown?” The hatchet man’s eyes widened in astonishment. “But—”
“Silence,” Little Pete said. Any more from his henchman and he would grow mightily angry and no longer be responsible for his actions. “She does not know that we have no idea where the jade crown is. We will take the guns and send her on her way.”
“She is very dangerous.”
“The Sum Yop are not? You are more than a fool. You are an idiot! We tell her we have the crown. We take the guns, then send her on her way. What is she to do? How can one shipload of pirates stand against the might of the Sum Yop tong?”
“A boon, master,” the hatchet man said, bowing deeply.
“What is it?”
“I want to kill her.”
“No,” Little Pete said carefully. “You may kill Sung. I want Lai Choi San for my own. Double-crossing her will be a pleasure, but nothing like what will follow.” Little Pete laughed. His hatchet man merely grinned.
Lai Choi San tossed her head to one side to get salt spray from her face. She stared at the junk bobbing on the waves. How she hated the filthy hovels on the ground and loved the sea. Her ship was more than her home. It was her key to the entire world.
All she needed to make her world complete was still in China but would be released to her once she found the emperor’s jade crown.
“Mistress,” Sung said quietly. She did not bother to turn. The feel of wind and water against her skin was too invigorating after burrowing through the dusty warehouse the Sum Yops called their headquarters. “They will cheat you.”
“More than that, Sung,” she said. “Little Pete intends to steal the rifles. What I do not know is if he has the crown.”
“You will deal with him, although he is a swindler? I do not understand.”
“Of course you don’t. Who else in San Francisco might find the jade crown? The On Leong want only one thing—the return of their leader’s bones. If the crown were in their possession, Little Pete would soon receive it in trade. The other tongs have no interest in angering the emperor. No, Little Pete is the one most likely to find the crown, so he is the one we deal with.”
“But he will double-cross you. You said so!”
“I know he will. He suspects I know, as well. If he doesn’t, he is a greater fool than I believe.”
“What do we do, mistress?” Sung sounded worried.
“There is a small chance Little Pete will obtain the crown and deal fairly with me.”
“Then you will double-cross him?” Now Sung sounded hopeful.
“A tempting thought. It might be necessary. If I must deal honestly with him, I will need rifles.”
The boat bumped against the side of the huge junk. Lai Choi San grabbed a ratline and climbed it with ease. Sung and the other three followed once they had secured the smaller boat.
Lai Choi San stood on the deck, eyes questing beyond the Golden Gate. Gum Shan, the Golden Mountain, her countrymen called this place. A land filled with barbarians and sojourners. It was not home. She must complete her mission and return to the Flowery Kingdom quickly or she would certainly go mad.
“Set sail,” she called out. “We put to sea to find us something worthy of our talent as pirates!”
A cheer went up from the crew. They had languished in port long enough. It was time to ply their trade once more on the high seas.
Lai Choi San agreed.
13
Ah Ming stood on the dock, staring into the harbor. Outwardly calm, she seethed as she watched the junk unfurl triangular sails, catch wind and begin its journey through the Golden Gate. She watched until the colorful sails were out of sight. Only then did she turn and face her bodyguard.
“Kill him. He failed.”
The hatchet man inclined his head in acknowledgment. Then he said in a curiously soft voice, “What of the emperor’s crown?”
“It’s aboard the junk,” Ah Ming said. “Lai Choi San is taking it back to China. I care nothing about that. It belongs to the emperor and should rest on his head.”
“The body,” her bodyguard said.
“My father’s bones will never be returned. Little Pete is a vile bandit. May the Kama Lords take his soul to the lowest levels of Hell and torture him for eternity.”
“You wish to attack the Sum Yops?”
“Kill John Slocum first. He is the enemy of all On Leong members. Then we will see to an assault on Little Pete,” Ah Ming said. The man bowed even more deeply, stepped away a pace and then hurried off. She turned and looked out to sea. No track of Lai Choi San’s junk remained now, not even a wake in the choppy water.
She had hoped Slocum would accomplish what she was hesitant to do. A tong war could last for years with hundreds killed. So be it.
“I say, it was a bloody good trip back to the museum,” Sir William Macadams declared. Slocum was less sure of that. His body ached, and every joint protested his every move. His hands were blistered from rowing and his feet were swelled from so much hiking.
They had made landfall near Tiburon. Even with the lure of ten dollars offered by Sir William, they had been unable to find anyone willing to drive them around the bay back into San Francisco. After a very long walk, they had reached the ferry and taken it to the Embarcadero. Only then had they found a carriage driver who would take a chance they would pay after they reached the museum.
“You stay,” the driver said when they both got down. “One of you, get the money. The other stays here.”
“Go on,” Slocum said. He saw that the driver was uneasy with the choice of who was to remain behind. Though he had been drenched, almost drowned like a rat and dried out so that his salt-caked clothes clung to him, he was obviously the more dangerous of the pair. Slocum knew his saltwater-drenched six-sho
oter would probably not fire if he threw down on the driver, but the man could not know that.
“Here you are, my good man,” Sir William said, bustling back with a handful of scrip thrust in front of him. “We appreciate your courage in taking a risk on us.”
“Thank you, sir,” the driver said skeptically. He leafed through the paper money one bill at a time studying which bank had issued it. A slow smile came to his face. Slocum knew the bills were all drawn on a solvent local bank.
“What do we do now?” Sir William asked.
“I don’t know where the jade crown is,” Slocum said. “Little Pete does not have it, nor does Lai Choi San.”
“The other woman. The tong leader’s daughter. What of her?”
“Ah Ming wants her father’s body returned more than she would want a piece of jade. It’s a religious matter.”
“Ah, yes, the return of the bones for burial in hallowed ground.” Sir William looked around, then shrugged. “Nothing sacred for the Celestials in this country.”
He returned to the museum, in seeming good humor. Slocum trailed behind, in a foul mood. The encounter with Lai Choi San had left a bad taste in his mouth. Three men had died for no reason. He still could not figure out why the pirate had not ordered her men to shoot him and Sir William out of the water. It had been a decision solely on her part. That Slocum was certain of, seeing how she spoke with her marksmen on the upper deck of the junk. He was not sorry she had called them off but only wondered why.
To torment me even more, he decided. His hands were like pieces of cured leather from long hours roping cattle and still they had blistered from the oars. He was fed up with San Francisco and anything having to do with the sea. It was time for him to seek out the serenity of the desert. Or the plains. Or the mountains. Anywhere that wasn’t a city.
As he went into the museum, though, like a dog with a bone, he still worried at the mystery of the crown’s location. If anyone in the town wanted to get rid of an artifact, Little Pete—or Ah Ming—would have heard of it immediately. No thief would keep such a trinket. Even the locoweeds wandering the streets of this town were not likely to hang on to it, although the emperor of the North might.
