“These cases of tools, Lao Erh, I did not see them when I talked to Little Orchid yesterday. Are you loading them now?”
“No, he and the three ruffians he calls his crew will do that tonight. After it is dark I am to take my boat a short distance from here where a Ningpo junk lies at anchor. The cases will be off-loaded from the junk. Then I will tie up along shore to wait for daylight before sailing upriver.”
Something stirred in David’s mind at the mention of a Ningpo junk. He raised the tea bowl to his mouth and took a few thoughtful sips. Beazley’s words to Madame Wu came back to him. Could this be the “ship of fortune” in that last, uncompleted remark? But there was another phrase Lao Erh had spoken earlier that brought back a picture of Little Orchid, four pounds of pork, and a pound of sugared plums. He tried to think. What was it? The thought of his good friend Lao Erh being involved with a man like Beazley made him feel sick. He nearly dropped his tea bowl. “The River God is sick!”
A startled Lao Erh looked at him. “Your thoughts have been soaring above Mount Tai, elder brother. Are you well?”
“Who is the strange man?”
A look of pity came over Lao Erh’s face. “I see no strange man, Da-wei.”
“Not here. The one on your boat. Little Orchid told you she saw a strange man with the sun in his belly. Who was he?”
Lao Erh’s face relaxed. “The yang kuei tze? A foreign devil with the sun in his belly? Surely, Da-wei, you do not believe the phantoms of my poor daughter’s mind? You are a scholar. You have traveled beyond the Western Sea to their lands, but even you have never seen a foreign devil with the sun in his belly. If such a one were to come aboard my poor boat, I would be frightened to my grave. Think what my wife would say!”
“Your wife did not see him. Nor did you or any member of your crew. But he was there, and Little Orchid saw him. Your eyes tell me you think I have lost my wits. Listen, and I will tell you a story about a thief who dreamed too much.”
When David finished speaking, a wide-eyed Lao Erh said, “Liao pu te! What fearful men are these who come to me? To me, a simple boatman, who asks little from this life! What shall I do?”
“First, I want you to describe these men to me. What did their leader look like? The man who hired you?”
Lao Erh held his hands out a few feet apart. “He is about this wide at the shoulders,” he said. “Average height, but thick, strong. Heavy like a wrestler or boxer. His hair is long and he wears a red sweatband tied across his forehead. And a pin. There is a small jade pin in the sweatband. As I said before, he spoke in a coarse Shansi dialect.”
“And the three crewmen, did you see them too?”
Lao Erh struck the bench with his fist. “Hun tan! Rotten eggs! All of them. Yes, I saw them — may fox spirits take them all. Two were about my size. The other was very thin and tall, but not so tall as you, Da-wei. They, too, spoke the Shansi dialect.”
The waiter handed a warm package of food to Lao Erh and a bowl of meat dumplings and rice to David. Lao Erh gave the waiter a few coppers and stood up to go.
“There are two things you must promise to do,” David said to him. “Don’t arouse any suspicion in their minds, and don’t leave Little Orchid alone on the boat until after this is over.”
Lao Erh nodded. Clutching the food under his arm, he hurried to the street.
David took out his chopsticks and put the “nimble lads” to work. He had almost forgotten how hungry he was. The first dumpling vanished in a few quick movements of the chopsticks.
His first thoughts were for the safety of Lao Erh and Little Orchid. The Harbor Police had a station less than a mile away. Captain Huang could slip a few men on board Lao Erh’s boat at dusk and have an armed steam launch nearby with a boarding party in readiness. Lao Erh and his daughter could then be moved to a neighboring boat out of harm’s way. Ling Fu and his rogues would walk into a trap. The gold bars they carried would be enough evidence to send them to the headsman.
David speculated that Beazley had visited the boat with Ling Fu. It would be like him to insist on savoring every aspect of his unfolding dream. With all the arrangements completed, Ling Fu would have demanded to see the gold. Beazley must have shown him the vest of gold bars hidden under his clothing. This would be Little Orchid’s “man with the sun in his belly” that had worried Lao Erh. In that moment Beazley ceased to be a business asset. Ling Fu then dissolved their partnership in the Whangpoo River. The mysterious “cases of tools” and the gold bars could then change hands with no one the wiser.
David cleaned his chopsticks and put them in their case beneath his jacket. The fog was lifting. Working-day sounds returned to the street. A shabby-robed Taoist priest with a wooden begging bowl entered from the courtyard and passed among the tables. The customers offered him more silence than coins. David put three silver pieces in the outstretched bowl and walked out onto the street to the accompaniment of many scriptural blessings.
He passed the godown with its crew of painters applying the last whitewash to its interior. Beyond the market he could see the flag of the Harbor Police near the ferry landing. Traffic was moving again on the Whangpoo.
The armed steam launch was not at the Harbor Police dock. A sergeant told him Captain Huang had been called downriver. David wrote out a description of Ling Fu and his men and left it with the sergeant. “Tell Captain Huang I’ll be back around noon. Those four have to be staying close by.” The sergeant suggested a wine shop called The Green Phoenix run by a Shansi man.
The proprietor of The Green Phoenix proved to be a monument to discreet ignorance. He suggested a brothel in Joss Alley. It took David half an hour to find the brothel. He collected only a string of curses from the bleary-eyed madame who showed a neat turn of phrase. He left this gutter virtuoso still screaming from a second-story window and resumed his search through the foul alleys of the hutung.
Five hours and as many miles later he emerged from the alleyways and narrow streets. It was noon. He was tired and hungry. Captain Huang would have to wait a few minutes.
The Inn of the Eight Immortals was crowded to near capacity. From the doorway he could see an empty seat at an eating bench occupied by three men. David considered joining them. As he hesitated, they were joined by a fourth man with long hair and the muscular build of a boxer or wrestler. There was a small jade pin in the dirty red sweatband around his head. Two of his companions were of average height and build. The other was tall and thin. Ling Fu and company were taking their noon rice.
A crowd collected outside the inn when the four Shansi men were marched out followed by Captain Huang brandishing a pistol too big for his small hand. Captain Huang Liu was enjoying himself. He paced up and down before the prisoners and waited. Two policemen armed with rifles stood behind them. A sergeant emerged from the inn.
“The gold isn’t in their room, Captain,” he reported, “but I found this knife.”
Captain Huang holstered his pistol and examined the double-edged dagger. “Where is the gold?” he bellowed at the prisoners. There was a long silence. “Which one of you dung-heaped sons of a turtle murdered the foreign devil?” Again there was silence. Captain Huang sighed. “So you wish to travel the path of pain.” He motioned to the sergeant. “Take them to the station. There are ways to oil rusty tongues.”
David took Captain Huang to one side. After a few moments of whispered conversation the captain gravely nodded his head. “An excellent thought, Mr. Feng. I’ll meet you there.” Captain Huang turned to his sergeant. “March these beauties to the godown!” he snarled.
The painters at the godown put their brushes aside to join the crowd gathering in front of the windowless warehouse. Captain Huang waved the throng to silence and delivered a long speech about the longer arm of justice under the new Republic of China. He was beginning to repeat himself when the voice of an old man in the rear of the crowd cried out, “Chieh kuang! Chieh kuang! Make way! Make way for the Summoner of Spirits.”