Fatal as a Fallen Woman (11 page)

Foxe's eyes narrowed. "Could you handle learning something like that about
your
mother?"

Ben didn't answer. He didn't even try to imagine such a situation. "What about the murder charge?"

Foxe shrugged, but there was a worried look on his face. "Elmira Torrence took off before the police could arrest her. She's disappeared without a trace." He extinguished the stub of his cigar and began to swivel his chair back and forth.

"If there's something more, spit it out." Ben couldn't think of much that would be worse than the murder of one parent by the other, but something was obviously preying on Foxe's mind.

"Denver grew fast, and so did its underbelly." He stopped swiveling and met Ben's gaze head on. "Politicians and lawmen are well paid to look the other way when it comes to what goes on in the saloons and gambling halls and brothels. According to my sources, Elmira Torrence has long-standing ties to one of the most influential of these . . . gentlemen, a fellow known as Big Ed. Edward Leeves. They grew up in the same small town. Both his parents and hers were in the hotel business. Elmira hooked up with him again after her divorce. If she's been involved in his business ventures, above and beyond running a whorehouse, and Diana pokes her nose in where it doesn't belong in an attempt to locate her mother . . . ."

Ben bolted to his feet as Foxe let the thought trail off. Diana
would
"poke her nose in" and they both knew it.

"You can get to Denver in five days if you leave right away and travel straight through. Diana herself can't have reached there sooner than Wednesday or Thursday."

This was Saturday. Ben met Foxe's grim smile with a grimace of his own. There was no telling how much trouble Diana could get herself into with an entire week's head start.

"But I suppose you can't just drop everything and go after her," Foxe said with mock sympathy. "Not with your responsibilities at home, and all." He tipped back in his chair, chewing on the end of an unlit cheroot. "How is your brother?"

"Better."

The curt reply seemed to amuse Foxe. "Good. Good. Well, you go on back to Maine and take care of him and your other patients. Perhaps I'll go West and lend Diana a hand. There's a story in it, and she won't want to write it." He nodded, as if coming to a decision, and slanted a sidelong glance at Ben. "Shall I tell her you'll be waiting for her when we come back East? Perhaps I can suggest that she send you regular reports by telegram in the interim."

Ben held onto his temper by a thread. "Telegrams and letters are most useful, but no substitute for talking to someone in person."

"Indeed. For that reason neither would do your brother much good if you were in a distant city when he needed medical assistance. Are you sure he's in the care of a competent physician?"

Ben remembered Aaron as he'd last seen him, on the mend but so determined to get back to his painting that he might well break his promise to take things slowly. He pictured Maggie, so wrapped up in her own fey world that he wasn't entirely certain she'd notice if Aaron had a relapse.

"You took an oath as a physician." Foxe's whispered taunts echoed the voice of Ben's own conscience. "You have an obligation to your patients, as well as to your blood kin."

"I made a promise to Diana, too. And to myself."

"Ah, yes, our strong, brave, self-sufficient Diana, so determined to see things through on her own. When it comes right down to it, Northcote, I don't believe you really have any choice at all."

* * * *

"Ning?" Diana called, stepping out onto a back stoop.

He was too far away to hear her but she could still see him. The blue blouse was distinctive. He'd be easy to follow, she decided, and if she caught up with him now to ask him to do a small favor for her, it would save him the trouble of another trip later, when he got back from running Jane's errands. Diana delayed only long enough to borrow a shawl from the peg just inside the kitchen door before setting out in pursuit.

The boy moved faster than she'd anticipated and she had to scurry to keep him in sight. He slipped down a side street, hurried along a narrow lane, and turned again into an alley crowded with two-story wooden buildings. Diana rounded the last corner and looked about in bewilderment. Orientals in blue cotton were everywhere. Men and women as well as boys and girls. Ning had vanished, a needle in a haystack, lost in a crowd of similar faces.

Diana froze, feeling as if she'd stepped into another country. Even the smells were different here. Herbs she didn't recognize by sight or scent were offered in the shop nearest her. From the store just beyond came a tantalizingly exotic aroma of cooking food.

The buildings were jammed together, a church up against a restaurant, a saloon beside a laundry. As she moved slowly forward, entranced by her surroundings, she caught a whiff of borax, sulphur, and lye, all of which were used in bleaching.

A clatter arose, signalling the approach of a train. She heard it slow as it prepared to stop at the nearby depot. The engine groaned and spewed noxious smoke into the air.

When the din died away, Diana found herself listening to voices, all speaking in a foreign tongue. The high-pitched, singsong words did not seem threatening, but she'd taken only a few more steps before she smelled a faint, sweet odor running beneath all the other scents.

She knew at once what it must be. One of these close-packed buildings housed an opium den.

Suddenly all the horrific tales Diana had been told about "Hop Alley" came flooding back to her. She'd been away at school during Denver's notorious Chinese riot, but she'd heard the stories. San Francisco had a large Chinese population of its own and its residents had followed events in Colorado with considerable alarm.

She stopped, looking for a way back to Holladay Street. It couldn't be more than a block away, but she was hemmed in by buildings and people and every eye, or so it seemed to Diana, was watching her to see what she would do next.

A band of youths began to close in on her. They moved with the matching strides of a pack of wolves on the hunt. The one in the lead grinned, but it was neither a pleasant expression nor a reassuring one. She almost expected to see fangs flash.

"I am looking for a boy named Ning," Diana announced. The words came out sounding a bit breathless but at least she'd spoken clearly. "He works for my mother."

Did they understand English? They certainly didn't trouble to speak it. The youths exchanged several comments in their own language, leaving Diana at a loss to translate the remarks. When they laughed, she decided she didn't
want
to know precisely what they'd said. Their lack of respect was clear enough.

"Ning," she said again. "He works at the Elmira Hotel."

"Long gone," a nasal voice informed her.

Diana whirled around to find a man dressed in colorful silk robes standing in an open doorway. It had been closed when she passed by. The Chinese characters above it were flanked by English words: GUN WA CHINESE REMEDIES.

"I am Gun Wa, the great Chinese physician," the man said. "If you have the entry fee, you may take the underground passageway to Holladay Street."

One of the boys voiced a loud protest in Chinese. Gun Wa shouted back in the same language.

"Or I can be leavin' you to them."

Diana's eyes narrowed. The sinister leer accompanying the offer made her skin crawl, but there was something odd about his accent. For just an instant, he'd sounded more Irish than Chinese.

"A passageway?"

"Ten dollars to go through to safety, and for fifty cents more I'll throw in a rare herbal remedy, guaranteed to cure anything." From the silken folds of his wide sleeves he produced an amber bottle about seven inches high.

Pockets inside the lining, Diana thought. A theatrical trick.

Behind him, the interior of the building was in darkness. Diana had no idea what she'd be getting into if she entered. Would she ever come out again?

"I don't have ten dollars," she said in a small voice.

He looked her up and down. "Jewelry?"

"I have a bank draft I haven't cashed yet. I don't suppose you'd extend credit?"

She was uncomfortably aware of the band of youths at her back. When she heard a rush of footsteps coming her way, she opened her mouth to promise Gun Wa the entire hundred-dollar draft if he'd help her escape.

A small, blue-clad figure barreled into her before she could vocalize the offer. "Mrs. Diana!" Ning cried, grabbing her hand. "You come with me now."

As if by magic, the crowd melted away. The older boys stepped aside to let them pass, satisfying their pride with a few incomprehensible taunts. Gun Wa disappeared back inside his shop.

"You don't look back." Ning said, walking faster. "Tough place," he added as they left Hop Alley behind. "They knock a man in the head for two bits."

"That Gun Wa," Diana said, taking one last look over her shoulder in spite of Ning's warning. "Is he really a physician?"

Ning's big round eyes laughed up at her. "He not even Chinese."

Chapter Six

Diana and Ning were almost back at the Elmira before the boy spoke again. "You say you look for me."

"Yes. I thought you were going to one of the shops on Larimer Street for Miss Jane. There was something I wanted you to pick up for me."

It seemed unimportant now, but she'd intended to ask him to buy copies of the
Times
, the
Tribune
, and the
Republican
. She thought she might be able to discover, by reading the stories those Denver newspapers ran, which one would be most sympathetic to her mother's cause. There had really been no need to chase after Ning. It had been a foolish, almost disastrous impulse. She could have purchased the latest editions herself. She would, when she went out again this afternoon.

"Best herbs in Hop Alley," Ning said as they passed through the back door into the Elmira's kitchen.

The cook, a sour-faced, rail-thin woman named Louise, looked up from a range with six lids and a large oven, then quickly averted her eyes. Jane was there, too, supervising the night maid as she loaded covered dishes onto a tray. Ning produced a newspaper-wrapped parcel from inside the front of his shirt and presented it to Jane.

"I help serve morning meal now," he said.

"Tell me about Ning," Diana said when he'd disappeared into the dining room.

Jane hesitated. "What do you want to know?"

"Is he an orphan?"

"As good as. His mother was a prostitute. She's dead, but her sister lives in Hop Alley. God knows how
she
makes her living."

"And his father?"

"No one knows who he was. A white man, obviously."

"Is that his only name? Just Ning?"

Jane frowned as if trying to remember what she'd been told. "It's a nickname, I think. They called him after the province in China his family came from. Ning's the short form. We probably couldn't pronounce the real thing. Are you planning to eat with us this morning?"

Diana accepted the change of subject and the invitation to join the others in the dining room. The clock was just chiming the half hour when she and Jane sat down at the table. The others had already taken their places.

This was the perfect opportunity to become better acquainted with her mother's "girls," Diana decided. So far, she hadn't exchanged more than a few words with any of them. To avoid interfering in the bordello's business, she'd spent most of the previous afternoon and evening in Elmira's private suite.

She sent a tentative smile in the direction of the two young women she had met the for the first time yesterday. Maybelle was a skinny little creature with straw-colored hair while Chastity, a brunette with dark eyes and full lips, had a more voluptuous figure. As were they all, these two were simply dressed in respectable garments that made them look as if they
were
just residents in a young ladies' boarding house. More of Elmira's influence, Diana assumed.

When Georgia the night maid, who appeared to work all day, too, had placed the last of the platters filled with food Louise had prepared on the table, Jane cleared her throat and said grace. "Elmira insists," she explained when she lifted her bowed head and caught Diana's look of surprise.

Red Katie, to Diana's right, passed the eggs. Diana helped herself to a generous portion and continued to add to the bounty on her plate as one dish after another came her way. Consuming a hearty meal before she faced her next challenge wasn't a bad idea. In fact, she had the feeling she'd need all the strength she could muster if she was to carry out her plan for the afternoon.

First, however, she must discover what she could learn from the women at the table with her. For the most part they were ignoring her, carrying on private conversations in soft voices while they ate.

"One ounce of white wax, two ounces of strained honey, and two ounces of juice of lily bulbs," Long Tall Linda said to Honeycomb. "Melt 'em and stir 'em together and you get a first-rate remedy for wrinkled skin."

Diana turned to Red Katie. "I believe my mother was framed for my father's murder. If she was, anything any of you may have noticed that night could be significant."

Red Katie shoved a lock of hair behind one ear and gave her a hard look. "We were busy. All of us."

"Not every moment, surely."

"Had to entertain for a private party," said Strawberry Sue. "All the guests had brass checks, so neither Elmira or Jane had to be here. The professor just locked the door after they were all in."

"Brass checks?"

"Tokens," Red Katie explained. "Usually they have a design on one side and lettering on the other."

"They are used as a medium of exchange," Jane said. "A customer can purchase one to give to a girl for one silver dollar, or buy six for five dollars. The girls turn in their tokens in the morning and receive cash in return. Very handy for making sure the fee's been paid."

"How is it done otherwise?"

"Fella pays up front for what he wants," said Big Nose Nellie. She looked even younger in daylight and without cosmetics. "Then he comes in and picks his girl. But sometimes they pay for one thing and want another."