Mrs. Field pursed her lips and looked about the table. Her frown deepened when no one took the opportunity to agree with her. “I believe time will prove me right, and I daresay that many will agree with me. Maybe not here, among the staff who’s devoted to you, Miss Cameron, but others who have been dealing with these types of depraved people year after year and have seen no improvement as a whole.”
Dolly exhaled slowly. “Many of the rescued women find employment or marry and raise families, becoming productive members of society.”
“I guess it depends on how you define productive,” Mrs. Field said. “I don’t count the type of progress you are suggesting, and I don’t think it’s possible with the type of coddling you do with these girls. You’ve allowed them to stay in their beds when suffering from melancholy, and the ones who are pregnant . . . well. They should not even be allowed residence here.”
Dolly was stunned. She could only imagine how the other staff members felt.
From beyond the kitchen, Dolly heard a tumble of footsteps. Someone was coming. She sorely wanted to excuse herself to answer, if only to take a break from the hateful words and icy composure of the director. But a moment later, Tien appeared in the dining room and produced a note.
Mrs. Field snatched it from Tien, while the Chinese girl cast a guilty glance at the staff members, and Dolly suspected the girl might have been eavesdropping. Dolly was sorry that Tien, as difficult as she could be to manage, had overheard such hateful words from the director.
Dolly watched Tien exchange glances with Yuen Qui, a woman whom she idolized, and saw the girl’s expression soften. Dolly was glad that Tien was fond of at least one staff member since the departure of Miss Culbertson, because the relationship between Dolly and Tien was still tenuous at best.
Tien was a stubborn girl, sometimes to her credit, and sometimes to her detriment. In this case, she remained in the dining room as Mrs. Field read the note.
Mrs. Field’s mouth pressed tight as she read; then she snapped her narrow gaze to Dolly. “Well, it looks like you’ve been summoned once again, Miss Cameron, to go save the world.”
Dolly’s face burned hot, but she rose from her chair and took the note. Ignoring Mrs. Field’s disapproval, Dolly read through the lines quickly. The immigration office had requested her presence. Ironically, the summons was a relief—an excuse to leave the mission home for a while and clear her head. She wished she could take both interpreters with her, but with Mrs. Field’s negativity, Dolly didn’t want to leave the girls abandoned, so she invited only one.
“Yuen Qui, will you come with me?”
The young woman rose quickly, nodding a farewell to the others at the table.
Dolly wished she could speak to the staff members without the director and explain that she didn’t have the same feelings. Yet she knew Ah Cheng could handle herself around Mrs. Field.
Tien followed Dolly and Yuen Qui to the front door, where Dolly told the girl, “Stay out of trouble while we’re gone. Help Ah Cheng if needed.”
Tien nodded like an obedient child.
The fall day was cool, but the sun felt lovely on Dolly’s face. They walked to the corner, where they hailed a buggy. As Yuen Qui settled next to her, Dolly couldn’t help but say, “I’m sorry about Mrs. Field.”
“I know who you are, Miss Cameron,” Yuen Qui said in her accented English. “You are not Mrs. Field.”
This was perhaps the nicest compliment Dolly had ever received. She hoped she was nothing like the director, but she still didn’t understand how the woman could be so cold toward other humans in desperate need.
When they arrived at the harbor and climbed out of the buggy, Dolly took a few deliberate, calming breaths. She never knew what to expect on this type of errand, so she silently prayed that whatever the situation was, she would be able to help.
Moments later, she and Yuen Qui stepped into the immigration office.
The immigration officer on duty adjusted his spectacles and greeted her, then nodded to Yuen Qui. “We’ve a young woman in custody. She’s about fifteen, is my guess, and that’s what she told us as well. But her story has many holes, and she’s already broken down more than once, becoming nearly hysterical. I think it would help her to speak to a woman, and maybe you can find out if she’s speaking the truth.” He continued to relay brief details about the young woman and why he didn’t think she was telling the truth.
Dolly didn’t hesitate. “Show us to the girl.”
The immigration officer led Dolly and Yuen Qui past two doors, then stopped at the third. He turned the knob, and Dolly entered the room to find a young Chinese woman sitting alone on a bench. She clutched a small satchel against her as if she were afraid someone would take it away. Her gaze met Dolly’s, but there was no emotion or interest in her eyes.
Dolly crossed to the young woman and sat next to her, with Yuen Qui hovering close. Dolly smiled and said, “I’m Donaldina Cameron, and I’m from the mission home. What’s your name?”
The young woman’s gaze darted to Yuen Qui as she translated Dolly’s words. Then the young woman looked back at Dolly, who smiled again and pointed to her own chest. “Donaldina Cameron.” Then she pointed to the young woman.
“Jean Ying,” she said at last.
“And where are you from?” Dolly asked.
Another darted glance at Yuen Qui as she translated, then Jean Ying said, “I am from Canton.”
Dolly nodded. “Wonderful. Are you here with your family?”
Jean Ying’s story came out in a halting tone, and it was what she had also told the immigration officer. Jean Ying was adamant that she had a job and a family in the area, and that they were expecting her.
Finally, after asking all the leading questions she could think of, Dolly placed a steady hand on Jean Ying’s petite ones. “We wish you all the best in San Francisco. But should you ever need any help, please send word to 920 Sacramento Street.”
Jean Ying lifted her chin and nodded with a confidence that wasn’t reflected in her dark brown eyes.
Dolly sensed that the immigration officer was right to have doubts. Jean Ying was holding back information. At this point, however, there was nothing else Dolly could do. Perhaps this mission had been a failure from the start. Only time would tell.
After Dolly and Yuen Qui left the office, they returned to the mission home wrapped up in their own thoughts. Just before they reached the front steps leading to the porch, Dolly stopped Yuen Qui. “Your people are not a burden,” Dolly said quietly. “All humans need a helping hand now and then on this earth. Right now is the time that your people are in need, and providence had given me the opportunity to help.”
Yuen Qui nodded, moisture welling in her eyes. She clasped Dolly’s hand. “Thank you, Miss Cameron. You are good to us.”
The women both smiled at each other through their tears. Walking back into the mission home, Dolly kept her head held high. She knew that, as the director, Mrs. Field dealt with many burdens and stresses of the business side of the mission, but no one could ever tell Dolly that whatever service she could render to another woman was ill-conceived. And no one could ever tell her that another soul wasn’t worth trying to heal, no matter how broken that soul was.
Over the next few weeks, Dolly went about teaching her classes, following leads sent to her by informants to rescue slaves, and mostly avoiding Mrs. Field. Dolly supposed that they would have to talk things out eventually and smooth things over. But for now, she was filled with resentment, both toward Mrs. Field’s negativity and toward herself for being the one who couldn’t take over the directorship when she had been asked by her beloved Miss Culbertson.
One night, after everyone in the house had settled to sleep, Dolly was summoned by Ah Cheng. “There is a man to see you at the front door,” she told Dolly.
Dolly knew instinctively that the news couldn’t be g
ood. No good news came late at night. She didn’t recognize the Chinese man waiting for her, and although Ah Cheng translated his words, no translation was needed for Dolly to comprehend the man’s desperation. His deep brown eyes kept glancing toward the front door as if he expected a member of the tong to catch him in the act of patronizing 920.
He held out half of a red handkerchief, which reminded her of the very first time Miss Culbertson had used this method to make sure she was fetching the correct slave. “Can you help?” the man asked. “There is a young woman who was sold to a very bad house. She says that you will come get her. But watch for the tong, they are watching for you. Now they have their own lawyers.”
Dolly wondered exactly which woman this man was referring to. But this was no time to guess. She took the handkerchief from the man.
“We will come,” she said. “Tonight.”
The man nodded when Ah Cheng translated the English to Chinese, then he bowed and took a step toward the door. He paused before leaving. “The highbinders call you Fahn Quai,” he said quietly.
“What is he saying?” Dolly asked Ah Cheng.
“Fahn Quai means white devil.”
The man continued, “They tell the paper daughters on the ships that you will capture them and force them to eat poison. They make the girls afraid of you before they even arrive in San Francisco. They tell them to run and hide if they see you coming with the policemen.”
Dolly’s breath stilled. “And what do you think, sir?”
A shout came from somewhere outside the building, and the man flinched. Then he whispered, “I think you are an avenging angel. You are the light among the darkness of Chinatown. And I am honored to meet you, if only once in my life.”
Another shout sounded outside, and the man acted like he wanted to disappear beneath the floor. “I was never here, and I never spoke to you.” He opened the door and disappeared into the black night, leaving Dolly to stare after him.
Ah Cheng didn’t say anything.
Shouts continued outside from the street, and Dolly moved to the high window and peered out. In the darkness, she could see a group of dim figures confronting the man who had just left the mission home. In a flash, a fight broke out.
And then—a gunshot stopped all the commotion.
The men scattered like litter tumbling with the wind, abandoning the crumpled form of a single body.
Dolly pressed a hand to her stomach. She had no doubt that the messenger had just sacrificed his life to deliver his message.
“Call the Chinatown squad,” Dolly told Ah Cheng in a strained voice. “There has been a murder on our street. We will also need help for our rescue.”
Ah Cheng joined her at the window and gasped. “We cannot go out tonight.”
“We must go out tonight,” Dolly said. “The tong will not stop at any cost, and neither will we. Tell Officer Cook we’ll need as many men as he can spare. And we’ll need a search warrant if the tong now have their own lawyers.”
Ah Cheng drew in a deep breath and went to make the call.
Dolly looked down at the grungy red handkerchief and wondered again which woman knew her enough to send specifically for her. Which woman had been desperate enough to send for the white devil?
A small sound from the landing caught Dolly’s attention. She saw a flash of white clothing disappear into the corridor. Tien. She was sure of it.
She hurried up the stairs and went directly to the girl’s bedroom. Predictably, the door was locked. Luckily it was late enough that the other residents were in bed. She would leave a note for Mrs. Field on her desk; otherwise, Dolly would be completely on her own with Ah Cheng. But what had Tien seen and heard tonight?
“Tien,” Dolly called softly. “Ah Cheng and I are going on a rescue. You will be safe here. I promise. A man sacrificed his life tonight to help us save another girl. He has brought the mission home honor.”
The door cracked open, and Dolly found herself gazing down at Tien’s tear-stained face. The girl said nothing, but she didn’t draw away when Dolly placed a hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to stay with Yuen Qui?” Dolly asked.
Tien nodded, and she walked with Dolly to Yuen Qui’s bedroom. After explaining the circumstances, Dolly was able to leave the two of them together. Her heart hurt for Tien, but Dolly was also grateful for the girl’s growing trust in her.
An hour later, Dolly and Ah Cheng left the mission home and headed down the hill in the deep of night to meet the police officers. As they walked past the location of the murder, Dolly blinked back hot tears.
Three officers waited at the bottom of the hill: Cook, Riordan, and James Farrell.
Cook’s expression was grim, and he confirmed that the murdered man was the one who had delivered the message. “You can turn down a rescue request, Miss Cameron,” he said. “Or take a break for a while. One man has already died tonight.”
And that man had told her that the highbinders were warning the paper daughters about her far in advance of any rescue efforts. She knew she should probably let things cool off, but her heart wouldn’t let her. Instead she said, “Do you have the search warrant?”
“Yes, but that house will be heavily guarded.” Cook’s thick brows pulled together. “We will meet with resistance.”
Dolly eyed the other two officers. Farrell carried an axe, and Riordan and Cook had sledgehammers. “If you’re willing to accompany us, then I don’t want to back out.”
All three officers nodded, their stoic gazes telling Dolly that they wanted the same results as she.
It was nearly midnight by the time they wound their way through the streets of Chinatown and reached the narrow, three-story house. The dim glow of lights came from inside, and Dolly suspected their raid wouldn’t be a surprise, just as Cook had said.
“We should divide up,” Cook said. “I’ll knock, and the rest of you find the back entrance. I’ll give you a signal.”
Cook approached the front door while Dolly and Ah Cheng slipped around the back of the house with Farrell and Riordan.
No lights glowed from the back of the house, and Dolly paused with Ah Cheng, catching her breath in the inky darkness. They waited for Cook’s high-pitched whistle to signal he was inside the front door, but no sound came.
After several moments, Dolly whispered to Ah Cheng and the officers, “We need to go inside the back door. It’s been too long.”
Farrell nodded, then tried the back door. It was locked, so he used his axe to hack at the door latch. Two strikes later, the door swung open, and with only a glimmer of moonlight to show the way, Dolly rushed into the house and up the set of back stairs. Scuffling feet and muffled voices sounded from the floor above.
“They’re going to hide her,” Dolly hissed as they reached the second floor.
Farrell followed, and Dolly started opening doors as they moved down the hall, but all the rooms were empty.
She stepped into one of the rooms, sensing it had recently been vacated. Spying a long crack in the far wall, she crossed the room. The crack turned out to be a secret panel. Dolly swung the panel open to find a ladder that led up a narrow chute to the roof. “They’ve gone up here,” she said with a confidence that she couldn’t explain. With one hand grasping her skirts, she started up the ladder.
The two officers and Ah Cheng followed, but Dolly was the first to the rooftop. Two buildings over, three dark forms crouched and were moving toward a third building. Still grasping her skirt to give her feet and legs more freedom, Dolly leapt the few feet from one rooftop to another. Farrell made the leap as well, but Ah Cheng stayed rooted in place on the roof of the first building.
Dolly moved as fast as she could, the moon throwing hopeful light across the rooftops as she determined to reach the fleeing party.
A piercing scream split the night, and Dolly stumbled to a stop. Two of the people up ahead wer
e forcing the third person off the roof.
“Stop!” Dolly yelled, running straight at them. Perhaps it was because they hadn’t expected her to keep running, or because the girl they had between them somehow wrenched herself away from her captors, but Dolly was able to grasp onto the girl and pull her free.
By then, Farrell had caught up, and he produced the warrant as Dolly held onto the trembling, crying girl. The girl opened her closed fist and revealed the other half of the handkerchief. She said something in Chinese that Dolly didn’t understand, but she didn’t need any more clarification that she had found the right girl.
Her captors had been two women, and they backed away, their gazes furious. One of the women spat toward the girl and cursed her. “You are dead to all Chinese if you go with Fahn Quai.”
Dolly didn’t need Ah Cheng to translate the meaning of Fahn Quai—white devil. If these slave owners considered her a devil for demanding freedom, then so be it. Dolly tightened her grip around the girl’s thin shoulders and led her away from the cursing women.
By the time they found their way back to street level and rejoined Ah Cheng and Officer Cook, Dolly realized this young woman was Jean Ying, the fifteen-year-old she’d spoken with at the immigration office a few weeks before. Another paper daughter, then. Dolly could only hope that the warrant wouldn’t be contested.
At the mission home, Dolly and Ah Cheng helped Jean Ying bathe and dress as she trembled uncontrollably. Dolly knew she should have been used to witnessing abuse marks on those she rescued, but it added another crack to her heart each time. She was gratified when Jean Ying ate everything they placed before her at the kitchen table. The young Chinese woman might be exhausted, but she also needed nourishment.
“I am sorry I lied to you,” Jean Ying told Dolly in a faint voice.
Jean Ying’s entire story came out through Ah Cheng’s interpreting. Her father was a wealthy manufacturer in Canton, and she was kidnapped one day when walking to meet some friends. She was taken to Hong Kong and sold to an agent who paid 175 Hong Kong dollars. On the steamship across the Pacific, she was forced to memorize details of a false identity.
The Paper Daughters of Chinatown Page 11
