Murder on Nob Hill (30 page)

Li did not flinch at my forthrightness. I believe I mentioned at the start of this narrative that I abhor dissimulation. At no time in my life had this virtue seemed more relevant than at that moment.

Li inclined his head slightly. “That is correct, Miss Woolson. I had heard of this club at the time of its inception, but considered it a folly of youth, one to be outgrown with the advent of marriage and a family. I was mistaken. As I say, I recently discovered that although carefully hidden, the club still exists. It has become a safe harbor where the rich and powerful may go to indulge their most aberrant sexual fantasies.”

Robert could contain himself no longer. As Li spoke, I had noticed his face suffuse with color. It had now turned crimson.

“Curse it, Li!” he shouted, his voice so loud that sounds of activity abruptly ceased in the kitchen, and a startled Kin peeked ap-

prehensively into the room. “This is hardly the time or the place to discuss such outrageous and despicable—”

“It's exactly the place,” I broke in. “And it is certainly time we placed all our cards on the table. I may be a woman, but I’m not a fool. Nor am I blind or deaf. I’m aware that certain men are susceptible to perversities of a sexual nature. I agree with Mr. Li. This club obviously has a bearing on the case. It can’t be ignored just because it offends your sensibilities.”

“My sensibilities!” he yelped. “My concerns are for you,you infuriating woman.”

“Don’t expect me to applaud your gallantry when it is so patently misplaced.” I turned back to Li, for really there was little time to lose. Already I had begun to detect a faint light at the end of the tunnel and I was anxious to pursue it. “Tell us more about this club, Mr. Li. I presume the members pay women of a certain proclivity to participate in these—er, practices.”

Although Robert's face remained an unhealthy shade of red, he refrained from further objections. Li looked at him with an expression I can only describe as restrained amusement, then quietly resumed his narrative.

“Frequently that is the case. Occasionally, however, innocent young women are induced to take part, sometimes girls no older than fourteen or fifteen.”

For all my brave words only moments before, I could not hold back a gasp of shock. “Good heavens! So young?”

Li nodded and said with the merest trace of censure, “Chinese girls are sold into white slavery as young as seven or eight.”

I thought of the young women—little more than children—I had seen the night of Miss Culbertson's raid. “You’re right,” I said, regretting the naivete of my remark. “I suppose it was to—er, ad-

minister to these young women that the four partners hired Dr. Lawton. I understand that's his specialty.”

“You are, as usual, most astute, Miss Woolson,” Li said. “Considering the other deaths, I find it too much to suppose that the doctor's demise is an isolated incidence. The dismembering of his right hand is also suggestive, don’t you think? The hand used to abort the life of an unborn child?”

“My thoughts precisely,” I said. I was about to elaborate on this point, when Robert broke in.

“I think you’re both jumping to conclusions. It seems to me the gravest danger facing Wylde and those other vipers was keeping their depraved club a secret. If word got out, it would destroy their reputations—and they all had a great deal to lose. Yet if someone were threatening to expose them, surely
he
would have been the one killed, not the partners. Another possibility—assuming Mrs. Hanaford and Peter Fowler are innocent—is that the murderer is someone who was refused admission to this club and sought revenge.”

I stared at Robert. What he’d just said, coupled with Li Ying's revelation, turned everything upside down. For the first time I was beginning to see the case from an entirely different perspective! True, there was a great deal I still didn’t understand, but the light at the end of the tunnel seemed to glow a bit brighter.

“What's the matter with you, Sarah?” my colleague demanded. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”

“Oh, but I have. Every word, I assure you.” So deep was my gratitude, I had to resist the urge to throw up my arms and kiss him. Instead, I turned to Li. “Where is this club located?”

Li handed me a piece of paper upon which was written an address. “It is on the corner of Powell and Union Streets.”

I stared at him. “Union Street?”

Li Ying gave a faint smile. “Interesting, is it not?”

Robert looked appalled. “Don’t tell me you want to go there?”

I didn’t bother to answer. Anxious to be on my way, I picked up my reticule and stood.

“Mr. Li, your information has been exceedingly helpful. What you’ve told us today may well save another life. I find myself increasingly in your debt.”

Without waiting to see if Robert was following, I gave the tong lord a respectful bow and walked briskly from the room.

R
obert entered the carriage in a foul mood, which did not improve when I refused to answer his questions about the new “bee in my bonnet,” as he put it. After I had informed the driver where we wished to be taken, all I would say to satisfy Robert's curiosity was that we’d been looking at the case from the wrong perspective. After that I sank into my own thoughts, remaining largely oblivious to his caustic cataloguing of my numerous character flaws.

I looked out the window as we made our way through the mostly residential neighborhood where, we’d been told, four of San Francisco's most prominent men had established a private club for the sexual gratification of themselves and a select number of their peers. It was also—as I’m certain the readers of this narrative must realize—the street where Senator Broughton's body had been found. The fact that it was so near the club he had helped establish strained the boundaries of happenstance. It also opened a Pandora's box of questions.

The carriage stopped in front of the bakery where Broughton's

body had been discovered. Leaving a still grumbling Robert to deal with the driver, I gave the exterior of the shop a thorough inspection. Robert soon joined me and we stepped inside to be greeted by delicious smells and a delightful array of freshly baked goods temptingly laid out upon a counter.

A portly man, wearing a white apron and a broad smile, stepped out to serve us. As I made a show of examining some cakes, I extended my sympathies to the man on his grisly discovery. To my disappointment, the clerk said it was the baker—who came in at three
A.M
.—who had stumbled on the body, looking for all the world like a heap of discarded clothing. Ascertaining that the bundle was, or had been, a human being, the man summoned the police. That appeared to be the end of the story. The baker had been questioned by the police, then finally permitted to get on with his by now belated chores.

“That was a waste of time,” Robert said as we left the shop.

“On the contrary,” I replied, noting the time on my lapel watch and setting off at a brisk pace. “We’ve accomplished two things. First, doesn’t it strike you as significant that Senator Broughton's body was found in such close proximity to his club?”

“A coincidence,” he grunted with a remarkable lack of acumen.

I sighed in exasperation. “If you and the authorities are to be believed, this case is riddled with coincidences. It defies reality to presume that three out of four mining partners should be murdered within a three-month period. And dispatched in the same, distinctly unusual manner. Or that the last victim was discovered only a few minutes from a secret club the four men had been operating for years. Don’t you see, Robert? This explains how the murderer was able to lure Broughton out of his house, despite the senator's obvious fear for his life.”

“And just how do you arrive at that—?”

“Oh, for heaven's sake, man, use your head! What was the one pretext Broughton could not ignore, no matter the risk?”

“I—” he stumbled, taken aback by my vehemence.

“Fear of exposure! You said yourself that each of the four partners had a great deal to lose if their sexual hideaway became known. The note Broughton received last night must have alluded to some problem at the club, or perhaps a threat of discovery. That was the one place he couldn’t risk taking his bodyguard. It was the perfect ploy to entice him out of his house alone.”

“You spoke of two things,” he grumbled. I was sure my logic had led him to change the subject. “What's the second?”

“The lack of blood in the doorway, of course. The baker's boy was undoubtedly set to scrubbing the entryway after the police completed their investigation, but blood is difficult to wipe clean. Yet I was able to detect only one or two stains consistent with dried blood, hardly typical of the site of a stabbing, especially one that resulted in the victim bleeding to death.”

“What are you saying? That Broughton was killed elsewhere and left to be found at that shop?”

“Exactly. If my theory is correct, the killer wouldn’t have wanted the body found too close to the club. Which is why we’re completing the remainder of our journey on foot.” I stopped and looked at the street sign, then again at my watch. “Only see. We’re there. A short five-minute walk.”

“Not if you’re carrying a dead body!”

“It's barely two blocks. And who's to say the murderer didn’t have a carriage?”

But Robert wasn’t listening. He was staring at the only building—save two small shops on opposite corners—to grace the intersection of Union and Powell. I stared as well. The structure

was a church, a neat brick building with an old bell tower and a pious wooden cross. Without a word, I crossed the street and tried the church's heavy oaken doors. They were locked.

“Admit it, Sarah,” Robert said from behind me. “We’ve been sent on a wild goose chase.”

I can’t deny that for a moment I shared his doubt. Had Li received faulty information? Or was he, for some reason of his own, trying to lead us astray? Then I had a thought.

“Wait, Robert! What better place to hide such a sordid establishment than a church? It would be the last place anyone would think to look.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. No pastor would allow that kind of club on church property.”

“He might,” I said slowly. “If the minister himself were a member.”

Robert stared at me. “Good god, woman! Think what you’re saying!”

“I’m saying that a clerical collar doesn’t automatically bestow virtue upon its wearer. I’m not ready to reject Li's informants until we’ve conducted a thorough search of the premises.”

“But the doors are locked.”

“In the front, yes. We haven’t tried the back. You stay here in case someone comes out while I go around the side.”

“You’ll do no such thing. You wait here. I’ll see if there's a back door.”

I wasn’t pleased with this arrangement, but didn’t care to attract attention by engaging in a public argument. “Very well,” I agreed. “But make a good job of it. The entrance may be hidden.”

Throwing a pained look over his shoulder, Robert trudged around the church. Feeling conspicuous standing in front of the building, I crossed the street and took up a position beside the shop

on the opposite corner. Two women passed, small children in tow, then a man hurried by. No one paid any attention to the church.

So intent was I on my watch, that I gasped when I was suddenly grabbed around the waist and pulled into the narrow alley between the shop and the adjoining building.

“Damn it, woman! How in hell did you find this place?”

I twisted my head to find Benjamin Wylde's face looming over mine, his expression of loathing so intense it made me shudder.

“Let go of me!” I cried with a bravado I didn’t feel.

His hand closed over my mouth. “I gave you fair warning, but you wouldn’t listen. Now you’ve left me no choice but to take care of you once and for all.”

The tone of his voice chilled me. I had no doubt he meant to kill me. Unless I came up with a plan—and quickly—he might succeed!

Then, without warning, I had my chance. A howling cat came flying through the alley, a dog hard on its heels, distracting Wylde just long enough for me to bite down hard on the fingers pressed against my lips. As he cursed in pain, I pushed against him and broke lose of his grasp. I wasted no time crying out, but ran as fast as I could back down the alley toward the street. I heard him take off after me, then felt his hand brush my shoulder.

This time I did cry out, praying Robert would hear me. Then I was free of the buildings. On the other side of the street a man and woman were passing the church and I ran toward them. I had gone only a few steps when I collided with a muscular man who seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Without a word, he pulled me tightly into his chest, muffling any cry I might have managed.

“Watch her teeth,” Wylde told the man, wrapping a handkerchief around his bleeding fingers. “She bites like a wildcat.”

Admonishing the man not to attract attention, they held me

wedged between them and walked across the street to the church. The stranger kept my head pressed against his shoulder preventing me from calling for help. Robert! I thought wildly. Where was Robert?

“What are you doing here anyway?” Wylde asked the man as we reached the church. “I told you never to come here during the day.”

“Somethin's happened,” the stranger said in a rough voice.

“Well, what is it, man?” Wylde demanded, pulling a key from his pocket and inserting it into the lock.

“Yer daughter's been took,” the man blurted, obviously fearing Wylde's reaction. “Yer butler, Mr. Bateman, sent me t’ fetch yer.”

Wylde froze, then spun on the man. His voice was tight with alarm. “Yvette? What do you mean she's been taken?”

“That's all I know,” the man said defensively. “Mr. Bateman says she went out this mornin’ and a while later he got a note sayin’ she’d been taken. “He says for you t’ hurry home.”

“My god, Will! Why didn’t you tell me?” Wylde pushed open the church doors, seeming not to care now who saw us. “Tie this woman up in the storage room. I’ll attend to her later.”

Grunting his assent, the man called Will dragged me inside the darkened church. I heard Wylde's rapidly receding footsteps before the door slammed shut behind us. The only sound now was the echo of Will's shoes as he hoisted me over 4is shoulder and carried me, kicking and demanding to be released, down a flight of stairs.