Kitabı oku: «The Bradys After a Chinese Princess: or, The Yellow Fiends of 'Frisco», sayfa 3
CHAPTER V
OLD KING BRADY GETS DOWN TO BUSINESS
Harper's Hotel, on Mission street, both before and since the fire was always a great resort for Secret Service men.
In fact, the proprietor himself was formerly one.
As it happened, this was one of the few buildings in that part of the city which escaped the fire, so the public house at which Old King Brady turned up late that afternoon was the same old Harper's Hotel.
Detective Leggett, disguised as a dock laborer, sat in the cafe playing dominoes with another Secret Service man.
The minute he saw Old King Brady, without waiting to finish the game, he pushed the dominoes aside and made a sign for the old detective to follow, then leading him upstairs.
"I'm living here just now," he said. "I don't know as you know it."
"No; I didn't know," was the reply. "Have you caught on to anything?"
"I think so. Volckman's a sly one, but I have had a good chance to watch him. He quit an hour earlier than usual to-night. So did I, and I trailed him to China alley and saw him go into a crib there."
"Good for you! What kind of a crib?"
"Oh, there is supposed to be about everything that is crooked going on there. Mock Ting's restaurant is on the ground floor of the Dupont street side. There's a fan-tan joint on the third floor. I understand there are underground rooms. I don't actually know any of them to be opium joints, but I have no doubt that some of them are."
"It's enough that you have tracked Volckman there. What do you propose?"
"It's up to you, Mr. Brady. I have no pull in Chinatown. That is what we want."
"It surely is. I used to have a lot, but times have changed. I hardly know who to apply to now. I hate to ring in a wardman."
"I wouldn't," said Leggett, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I don't believe it would pay. I'm ready to bust ahead with you and take our chances."
"I have little faith in that, either. Volckman doesn't look like a man who used opium. He must have had special business to call him there. But let us get down there, anyway."
This conversation took place in Leggett's room upstairs.
"Better drop this rig, hadn't I?" he asked.
"I think so."
"If we only had some one who could speak Chinese."
"Get ready," said the old detective, impatiently. "We'll go ahead and do the best we can."
It was about six o'clock when they reached the House of the Seven Delights.
"We'll take supper in the restaurant as a starter," said Old King Brady. "It is not impossible that I may strike somebody I know."
They entered to find the place reasonably full.
The old detective picked out a central table, from which they could see in all directions.
Supper was ordered, and they had almost finished when Old King Brady suddenly said:
"There's a man I know. Just sitting at the third table on the left as you come in from the door."
Leggett looked.
"A Jap, isn't he?"
"Half Japanese and half Chinese. Don't you know him?"
"No."
"You will be surprised, then, when I tell you that he was once a Secret Service man."
"Is that so? He never operated in San Francisco in my time, then. What's his name?"
"Dr. Garshaski."
"Is he really a doctor?"
"Yes. I certainly ought to know him. He made me trouble enough. I don't like this. I thought the man was in China."
An inkling of the truth dawned upon Old King Brady.
The sight of Dr. Garshaski had stirred him more than he would have cared to own.
"If Alice fell into the clutches of that fellow, then heaven help her!" he thought.
He hardly knew whether he ought to show himself to the doctor or attempt to trail him.
But the matter promptly settled itself.
Dr. Garshaski saw him.
Old King Brady, who was watching him closely, did not fail to note the start he gave.
He immediately got up, and the old detective thought it was with the intention of leaving the restaurant, but instead of that he came forward to their table and, putting out both hands, exclaimed:
"Mr. Brady! I am rejoiced! My best friend! My savior, I may say! Well, well!"
Old King Brady shook hands and invited the doctor to sit down, introducing Leggett as a Secret Service man.
"Do you mind if I take my supper at this table?" asked the doctor.
"Not at all," was the reply.
Having come up with the man, it seemed to the old detective that he might as well listen to anything he had to say.
"I thought you were going to China, doctor?" he began.
"Did go," replied the doctor. "I have been across twice since I saw you. How is Young King Brady?"
"Well."
"In San Francisco?"
"I don't know where he is just now. He is working for a man on a private matter. It is some little time since I heard from him."
"And – I almost hesitate to ask for reasons such as you – you know, Mr. Brady. How is that loveliest of her sex, Miss Montgomery?"
Old King Brady's eyes were right upon him as he quietly answered:
"I cannot tell you, doctor."
"Cannot tell! Has the partnership been dissolved, then?"
"Temporarily, yes."
"You speak strangely, Mr. Brady. I hope and trust that nothing has gone wrong in that direction. You need not fear to trust me. I have quite recovered from my mad folly, I assure you."
"Something has gone very wrong, doctor. It is now several days since Miss Montgomery disappeared right here in San Francisco."
The doctor threw up his hands dramatically.
"Don't tell me that!" he cried. "Under what circumstances?"
"The circumstances belong to Secret Service business. I cannot state them. It may be, however, that she has fallen into the hands of your people."
"Now, don't call the Chinese my people. I am the son of a Japanese gentleman, as you well know. You touch me deeply. If there is anything I can do to help, command me."
"You are very kind. And your address?"
The doctor produced a card.
The address it bore was a number on Stockton street.
"I have a room in that house just at present," he said.
Leggett sat quiet through all this.
Still engaging the doctor in conversation, the old detective trod on his toe.
The signal was returned.
Old King Brady felt that he had been understood, when the Secret Service man suddenly arose and said:
"Will you excuse me, Mr. Brady? I have to keep that appointment with Holes."
"Go on," said Old King Brady. "You are a bit late for it now."
He left himself as soon as the doctor's supper was served.
Going around on to China alley, he found Leggett somewhat disguised watching the rear entrance to the house of the Seven Delights.
"That man must be shadowed," he said. "It is useless for me to undertake it other than in a general way. He has worked for me and knows my methods of disguising. He is as keen as a razor. Some time ago he fell madly in love with Miss Montgomery, and we had all kinds of trouble with him. I am afraid he is at the bottom of her disappearance."
"I'm on the job. Where shall I lay for him? Here or in front?"
"In front."
"Will I do as I am?"
"It's the best you can do at short notice. Listen. You saw him give me his card. I am going to his room on Stockton street. If I can get in I shall not hesitate to give it a good overhauling. I must be quick. Do the best you can for me, Leggett."
The Secret Service man gave his promise and Old King Brady hurried away.
The Stockton street house proved to be a four-story brick tenement filled with Japanese.
There was a bell-board with names on it, but that of Dr. Garshaski did not appear.
Old King Brady had just finished studying the names when a Jap came out through the open door.
The old detective showed the doctor's card.
"Know him?" he asked.
But the man appeared to be short on English.
"No know," he said. Then pointing inside he made the old detective understand that he was to inquire at the last door on the right, which he did.
This proved to be the janitor, whose English was quite understandable.
"Top floor," he said. "He only hire room of 'nother man. Las' door left."
Old King Brady traveled up the stairs.
He felt that he was running every risk of discovery by the doctor.
Encountering no one in the upper hall, he knocked lightly on the door.
There was no answer.
Producing his skeleton keys, he easily mastered the lock.
It was only a bedroom. There was but little furniture.
On the top of a chiffonier was Alice's picture in an elaborate gilt frame, which did not bear out the doctor's assurance that he had got over being love-sick.
Without losing an instant the old detective opened the drawers of this chiffonier and began disturbing things as little as possible.
It was not until the lower drawer was reached that he found anything to interest him.
The first was a bunch of three letters fastened by a rubber band.
There were other letters, some in Japanese and some in Chinese.
These, however, were in English, and when Old King Brady caught the signature, "R. Volckman," he knew that he had made a discovery.
This letter was brief enough. It read:
"DEAR SIR: Yours receipted. I shall be ready for you at 2 thirty. All serene. R. VOLCKMAN."
"This settles it," muttered the old detective. "Volckman has been standing in with these opium smugglers all right, and the doctor is in the deal. I shall arrest the man on sight."
He ran over the other letters.
All related to the landing of the smuggled opium.
In one Volckman agreed to furnish boats to the Chinese smugglers, with men to take charge of them.
The other was a demand to know when and where he could meet Dr. Garshaski.
There was no mention of the Chinese princess nor of Alice.
Old King Brady pocketed the letters and proceeded to examine a trunk, which he opened with a skeleton key.
Here he found other letters and photographs of several Chinese and Japanese women.
All the letters appeared to be in these languages, as the old detective hastily ran over them.
There was one photograph of a very peculiar looking young woman who was not altogether unhandsome.
She was dressed in a fancy Mexican costume.
To the old detective she looked as if she might be of mixed stock, Mexican and Chinese, or Mexican and Japanese.
But as none of these things interested the old detective, he returned them to the trunk and closed it.
Scarce had he done so when there came a knock on the door, which had not been locked.
Of course, this could not be the doctor.
Thinking that it might lead to some further discovery, Old King Brady slipped into a closet and remained on the watch through the crack of the door.
Again came the knocking, a little more insistent, and then the door opened and a young woman very stylishly dressed walked into the room.
A glance was sufficient to identify her as the original of the photograph the old detective had just been looking at.
She stood peering about as if expecting Dr. Garshaski to jump out at her from the closet or under the bed.
Then suddenly she made a rush for the chiffonier, seized the gilt frame, pulled Alice's picture out of it, spit on it, tore it to pieces, and stamped it under her feet, her eyes blazing with jealous rage and hate.
It was easy now to see that the girl – she was little more – was a Mexican-Chinese half-breed.
"Ah ha, my lady!" thought Old King Brady, "I see how the case stands! It's to be hoped that you speak English. You may prove a very valuable ally. I'm glad now that I came here."
He stepped out into full view.
The young woman gave a scream and made a bolt for the door.
"Stay, daughter! A word with you," the old detective said.
CHAPTER VI
HEARD IN THE HOUSE OF THE SEVEN DELIGHTS
Harry did not have long to wait before Ah Lung got up and came to him.
His brother Wun, making a few remarks in Chinese, excused himself and left.
"You will pardon me, Mr. Brady, for making it necessary for you to follow me here," said the merchant. "I wanted to find out whether the gods were propitious to our undertaking, as you would say. I have been so busy to-day that I got no chance until now."
"And the result?" asked Harry.
"We shall win out in the end, but not without trouble."
"Yon believe in your joss sticks, I see, Mr. Lung?"
"Firmly; and why should I not? For untold ages my people have employed them to predict the future."
"Does it always come out true as they say?"
"By no means. Just about as often as what is told us by people in this world comes true."
"Of what use to consult them then?"
"Listen! If you have a friend upon whom you rely, who you have known for years, and who has never lied to you, then you unhesitatingly believe him, do you not?"
"Most assuredly."
"It is precisely the same with me. I believe that the movement of the joss sticks in my case is controlled by the spirit of my dead father. He never lied to me living. Why should he do so now that he has dropped the body and is living in the world of spirits?"
"It is too deep for me. It would seem, though, that you must be a spiritualist."
Ah Lung shrugged his shoulders.
"I know very little about your American spiritualists," he replied, "but we will not continue the subject. I am ready."
"Where do we go?"
"We will talk of that outside."
"Am I made up to suit you?"
"Yes, yes. As I look at you I fail to see how any one could see through your disguise."
They passed out of the joss house and walked down Jackson street hill.
"One thing," said Harry. "You must pretend to talk to me with your fingers deaf and dumb fashion when we come into the presence of others."
"Oh, I can actually do it," replied Wun Lung. "I have a sister who is deaf and dumb. We were able to put her through the deaf and dumb school. She knows only English. I am the only one who can talk to her. But I suppose you cannot do the deaf and dumb finger speech?"
"Indeed I can," replied Harry, with his fingers.
"Then let us begin now," responded Ah Lung in the same fashion, "for we are liable to be seen by some one whom we may meet in the House of the Seven Delights."
"And what may that be?"
"A sort of club. A secret society. But I must say no more. You promised not to press me, you know."
"All right. I am in your hands, but I just want to ask have you spoken of the princess to any of the members of this club?"
"Why yes, to one or two whom I can trust."
Harry shook his head.
"I am afraid you are the author of your own troubles, then, Mr. Lung," he said.
"I shouldn't wonder. It is a matter I should not have spoken about to any one. I see it now."
They turned up China alley at last, entering the long building into which Alice had been taken on the night of her capture.
Harry now traveled over the same ground.
They ascended one flight, entered that elevator, and Ah Lung let them down to the long corridor under ground.
Harry wondered at the many doors.
"What new organization am I up against?" he asked himself.
But of Ah Lung he asked no questions, feeling that he was in the man's hands for better or for worse.
"Now I don't know whether anything is going to come out of this or not," Lung said with his fingers. "I am expecting to meet a certain party on business. I shall bring the conversation around to the princess. The man is supposed to be my friend. If he has betrayed me I want to know it. At all events, it is my only chance of giving you a clew on which to start your search."
"Right," said Harry. "Lead on."
Lung stopped before a door, on which he knocked three times.
It was immediately opened by a young Chinaman in a white native dress.
The room was quite a large one, well fitted up with comfortable American furniture.
It looked what it actually was, a club-room. Several Chinamen, mostly in American dress, were sitting or standing in groups.
One came forward looking questioningly at Harry.
Lung said something, apparently vouching for him as a friend, and the man walked away.
Nobody else spoke to them.
Going up to a handsome buffet, Lung poured out tea for himself and Harry, helping him also to sweetmeats and Chinese cakes.
"Is this just a business club?" asked Young King Brady.
"Just that and nothing else," was the reply; "there are several clubs meeting down here. While the members are all part of one grand organization, these clubs are organized for different purposes, and a man may belong to one without belonging to another or knowing anything about the others. That's the way we work it."
"Is your man here?"
"Not yet. He is expected, however. I must hurry and get you placed."
They now left the club-room, Ah Lung, opening the next door beyond with a latch-key.
This ushered them into a narrow corridor lighted by colored red lanterns.
From it opened several small alcoves before which fancy-colored curtains hung.
Harry saw that they were intended for opium smokers, and that each would hold two persons. They were provided with soft couches instead of the usual Chinese wooden bunks.
An attendant in white came forward. Ah Lung spoke to him in Chinese and gave him money.
"I have engaged two of these rooms," he said. "You must take one now and pretend to smoke and go to sleep. Watch and listen for me, for I shall come into the next alcove with my man. I never smoke opium myself, but he does, and he always prefers to talk business over a pipe."
And this programme was carried out.
Ah Lung left Harry, who lost no time in pretending to go to sleep. The curtain was drawn before the alcove.
Harry waited an hour and grew so drowsy that at last he actually did drop off, to be suddenly awakened by hearing somebody give a loud cough. As he opened his eyes he saw a hand draw his curtain shut.
He was on the alert instantly, for he could hear two men entering the next alcove.
"And now for business," one said. Harry recognized the voice of Ah Lung.
"Wait till I get my pipe going," replied the second person.
The voice and accent were peculiar.
It seemed to Young King Brady that he recognized both.
"Surely I have heard that voice before," he said to himself. "But where?"
This was a question that as Harry lay listening he found himself unable to decide.
The pipe filling was so quickly completed and the smell which arose so different from ordinary opium that Harry concluded the man must be merely smoking some sort of opium saturated tobacco.
The talk then began.
It was precisely what Ah Lung had hinted at, a transaction in cheap opium.
The word smuggled was not used.
Ah Lung bought a thousand dollars worth, which was to be delivered next day at the store.
There was considerable haggling, the talk lasting all of twenty minutes, and all this time Young King Brady was puzzling his brains to know where he had heard that voice before, but memory refused to serve him.
As for the man's English, it was almost as good as Ah Lung's, which amounts to saying that it was nearly perfect.
Harry heard, although their voices were keyed low. It vexed him to think that Ah Lung could not have spoken the man's name, but he never did once.
Now suddenly the conversation took a different turn.
"Ah, my good friend," said Ah Lung with a sigh, "I am in deep trouble. I know you will sympathize with me when I tell you what it is."
"Of course," was the reply. "I always have sympathy for those in trouble. What is the matter now?"
"My princess."
"Ah, ha! She is ill?"
"Not that. She failed to arrive on the Manchuria."
"Is it so? Did she not sail then?"
Ah Lung told the story he had given the Bradys.
"It must be very hard for you, Lung," replied the other. "I wish I could help you. Perhaps I can."
"You? How can that be possible?"
"Listen! I heard it rumored – only rumored by men – you know who – that there was a Chinese woman of high rank who was a passenger on the Dover Castle. With her was a man who claimed to be her cousin. The man was smuggled in, Lung. I saw and talked with him. His name was Wang Foo!"
"You don't mean it!" cried Ah Lung, excitedly.
"Hush! We shall be heard."
"No, no! I tell you the man in the next bunk is deaf and dumb. Besides, he is a good friend of mine."
"But on the other side?"
"It is empty."
"Sure? Some one may have come in."
"I'll look and see."
Ah Lung did so and reported the alcove empty.
"Go on!" he said eagerly. "You are interesting me greatly. What became of this woman of high rank?"
"Ah! That I do not know, my friend, but I do know that she did not land openly. Then she must have been smuggled ashore. Probably she is concealed somewhere in Chinatown now."
"I must find out. I will employ detectives."
"Do nothing of the sort. If the woman is here, if she really is the Princess Skeep Hup, then I am the man who can get her for you. What will you pay, Ah Lung?"
"Pay! I thought you were my friend."
"I am out for the dollars, brother. Out for the dollars every time."
"What is it worth to you then to go to the trouble to make these inquiries?"
"Nothing to make inquiries, but if this Chinese woman should prove to be the Princess Skeep Hup, and I am the means of delivering her up to you, I shall expect half of that money you told me you were going to get with her, or, in other words, $5,000."
Harry heard Ah Lung give an angry exclamation, and he feared that he was going to say something which would spoil everything, but the Chinaman controlled himself.
"Why, this is almost as bad as blackmail," he said, sarcastically. "I don't mind paying a thousand dollars, but five thousand! It is nonsense!"
"It has to be or I won't work."
"Come, I'll be liberal with you. I'll make it two thousand. Go ahead and find out for me."
"Not a cent less than $5,000, Brother Lung."
"Dr. Garshaski, I believe you know something definite, that this is a deal to blackmail me."
Dr. Garshaski! Harry almost jumped off the couch.
Now he knew whose voice he had been listening to.
He wondered at himself.
How could he ever have forgotten?
"That scoundrel!" he thought. "Alice in his hands? This is terrible, but it explains her disappearance, all right."
Meanwhile the talk was going right on.
"Have it your own way, Mr. Lung," said the doctor, "but you want to decide. Do I work or don't I work? Which?"
"I will give up no more than I said. I won't be swindled."
"Very well. Then I won't do anything about your Chinese princess. Your opium will be delivered. I am going now. Good-night."
"Go," replied Lung. "I shall not forget this, doctor."
"No, I don't think you will," replied the doctor, and Harry heard him leave the room.
Instantly Ah Lung drew aside the curtain.
But Harry did not wait for him to speak.
"After him!" he whispered. "I know that fellow! He is a scoundrel! No doubt he is at the bottom of this whole business, and of the disappearance of Miss Montgomery, too."
