Scandal on Rincon Hill (26 page)

“I know, that's the problem. There's no getting around the issue of paternity.”

“What do you propose to do?”

I sighed. “I have no idea. I've examined the problem from every angle, and I can't come up with a single strategy to help the poor girl. I realize I'm grasping at straws, but I hoped you might have some suggestions.”

He chuckled. “I'm touched by your faith in me, my girl. But I haven't yet mastered the art of performing miracles.”

“If we fail, Brielle will be compelled to work at Madam Valentine's parlor house.”

“Which is hardly a desirable place to raise a child.” He sat quietly for several minutes, presumably mulling over the situation. Finally, he shook his head. “I wish I could help, Sarah. But you know as well as I do that there is simply no way to prove that Knight is the child's father.” He paused. “Not legally, anyway. Unless—”

“Unless what, Papa?” I asked, unable to repress a flicker of hope.

“Has Knight seen the baby?”

“No, I don't think so. According to Brielle, he made her leave the Pacific Avenue house when she refused to consider an abortion. By then I believe she was about four or five months into the pregnancy, and the baby is now three months old.” I did some rapid mental calculations. “That means he most likely hasn't seen her for seven or eight months.” I studied my father. “Why? What do you have in mind?”

“Don't get your hopes up, Sarah. It's a very remote chance at best. But since there's no possibility of taking the case to court, it's worth a try. If you can arrange it, Gerald Knight should see his child. Right now, the baby is a nonentity, merely a name, if he even knows that much about her. It's much easier for him to ignore a daughter he's never met.”

“You think that if he sees Emma, he might change his mind about providing financial support?”

Papa shrugged. “Probably not. But at least he'll no longer be able to deny the child's existence. And if she's half as sweet as you claim, there's always a chance—an outside one, mind you—that he might relent.”

“He and his wife have three children of their own. No matter how adorable little Emma is . . .” My voice trailed off, my initial excitement quickly evaporating.

Papa gave my hand a reassuring pat, then rose to his feet. “We won't know until you've tried, will we, my girl?”

I
was surprised to see Samuel enter the house shortly after dinner that evening. He looked tired, but smiled when I greeted him in the foyer.

“I thought you weren't planning to return until tomorrow?” I said. “Was it a terrible weekend?”

“Not completely,” he said, handing me one of his smaller bags to carry upstairs. “On the other hand, it was not what I would call lively.”

Entering his room, we placed the bags on his bed. “The important thing was that I was able to obtain the information I need for my book, which is the primary reason I agreed to go there in the first place.” He chuckled. “It was amusing to see how eager those two jurors were to reprise their roles in the famous Laura Fair murder case. they've been milking that trial for over ten years now, and receiving God only knows how many invitations to partake of a weekend in the country.”

“But other than that?” I asked, sitting down on the bed.

“Unutterably dull.” He unsnapped the largest bag and flung it open. “Of course, the almost constant rain did nothing to help. The Talbots had planned some outdoor activities which had to be canceled. That meant we were all trapped together inside the house for most of the weekend.” His look grew teasing. “Are you certain I haven't been gone for an entire week instead of only two days?”

I laughed. “At times it's seemed that long to me, too. I've been dying to talk to you.”

He rather carelessly emptied the contents of the case into some bureau drawers, snapped the bag shut, then dropped down beside me on the bed.

“Did you now. Tell all, little sister. Lord knows I could do with some interesting news after enduring two days of dreary weather and even drearier company.”

“Well, to begin with George came here looking for you yesterday afternoon,” I began. “It seems the police arrested two Chinese men for Dieter Hume's murder.”

Samuel looked genuinely surprised. “Good Lord! On what grounds?”

“Some people claimed to have seen the men loitering about near the Harrison Street Bridge the night Hume was killed. They maintain it's the same two men the police arrested. Mind you, it was after midnight and evidently they observed the men from some little distance away.”

“Not to mention that most white people rarely make the effort
to distinguish one Chinese from another.” He eyed me questioningly. “Did George say that the police actually believe these witnesses?”

“I don't think it's a matter of whether they believe their stories or not,” I answered grimly. “People in the city are growing increasingly frightened. According to George, City Hall is exerting a great deal of pressure on the police to solve the murders.”

“When did the police arrest these men?”

“I think they had just taken them into custody when George came looking for you yesterday afternoon. According to him, the men are very young and speak next to no English.”

“Surely they've assigned them an interpreter.”

“No, impossible as it seems, they haven't. Those poor boys probably have no idea why they've been arrested. And heaven alone knows how they're being treated at the jail.”

My brother was eyeing me warily, and I attempted to smooth my face into a more neutral expression. Clearly, my effort was not entirely successful.

“You haven't gone and done anything foolish, have you, Sarah?”

“That rather depends upon what you consider foolish,” I answered evasively.

“Good Lord!” he exploded. “You really can't be left alone for five minutes without involving yourself in some trouble or other. What have you done?” His face suddenly cleared as he guessed at what I had been unwilling to tell him. “Oh, no, Sarah. You went to see Li Ying, didn't you?”

“As it so happens, I did,” I admitted a bit defensively. “Which was just as well, since Mr. Li hadn't been informed of his countrymen's arrest.”

“Those boys must be very new to San Francisco, if Li didn't know they'd been taken into custody,” Samuel stated dryly. “He usually knows everything that goes on in San Francisco, not to mention Chinatown.” He gazed at me with weary resignation. “Don't tell me, Sarah. Li has asked you to represent the men. And naturally, you've accepted.”

I nodded, but did not elaborate.

“You realize, of course, that defending two Chinese men of committing such a brutal murder will do nothing to help your practice, which, I might add, is hardly flourishing as it is.”

I did not appreciate being reminded of my precarious financial situation. “I can hardly stand by and do nothing while two frightened young men are accused of crimes they didn't commit.”

“Oh? And how do you know they're not guilty? Have you suddenly acquired a crystal ball? What if the witnesses actually
can
place those two at the scene of the crime?”

“Given the circumstances, that's most improbable.”

“But not impossible,” insisted my brother. “Listen, Sarah, even if you're right and those men really are innocent, how can you possibly prove it? As a female attorney, you'll be going up against white eyewitnesses,
male
eyewitnesses. Whose side do you think the jury will take?”

“I'll have to cross that bridge when I come to it.” I was determined not to allow my brother to sense my own doubts concerning the case. “Mr. Li is sending an interpreter to meet me at the jail tomorrow morning. I'll have a better idea of what I'm up against after I've spoken to my clients.”

He sighed. “I know better than to try to change your mind once you've got it set on something. Still, considering the public furor surrounding these murders, you may be biting off more than you can chew. And you could be placing your own life in danger. Have you thought of how much public animosity you'll be facing, especially from Dennis Kearney and his party of bigots?”

I stiffened my chin. If I was being subjected to this much resistance from my staunchest ally in the family, I dreaded to think what my father would say when he found out about my new clients.

“I'm well aware of what I'm up against, Samuel. Nevertheless, I have given Mr. Li my word.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot.” His tone was rich with sarcasm. “You've given your word to one of Chinatown's most notorious tong lords. Of course you're duty bound to honor such an admirable agreement.”

He rose from the bed and unlatched the smaller of his two cases. “So be it, then. Just don't expect me to take your side when Papa finds out what you've done.”

“Don't worry, I wouldn't dream of it.”

He must have caught my injured tone, and regretted his harsh words. After all, I had kept Ian Fearless a secret for over five years.

He could hardly do less than support me when it was my turn to undergo one of Papa's cross-examinations.

Perhaps in an effort to smooth things between us, he said, “I haven't forgotten my promise to visit Madam Valentine's brothel with you, by the way. Tomorrow is going to be pretty busy for me, but I could take you on Tuesday morning.”

Something in my face must have given me away, for he closed the bag and once again sat down on the bed. “You did stick to our bargain, didn't you, Sarah? You promised you would stay away from any brothels or parlor houses until I returned from my trip.”

At my sheepish look, he threw up both hands in obvious disgust and not a little anger. “Sarah Louise Woolson. You gave me your word!”

“Calm yourself, Samuel. I promised that I wouldn't go to a brothel alone. And I didn't. Robert accompanied me, and Eddie, too, as it happens. In fact, it was Eddie who managed to gain us entry into the house. We arrived a bit earlier than was civil, I'm afraid, given the late hours that sort of business must keep.”

“You say Robert went with you?” His bad temper abruptly deserted him at the mention of my erstwhile colleague. “Good Lord, that must have completely beat the Dutch. How in God's name did you get him to agree to go there with you?” His eyes widened as he suddenly figured it out. “Wait a minute, you didn't tell him where you were going until You'd arrived, did you?”

“Of course I didn't. If he'd known he would have become as immovable as a mountain. As it was, it was all I could do to prevent him from bolting out of there like a greased pig when the first girl came at him dressed in nothing but a flimsy, see-through nightgown.”

The image of this scene caused my brother to erupt with laughter. “This gets better and better! I just wish I could have been a fly on the wall to see poor Robert's reaction when he discovered you'd lured him inside a brothel.”

Remembering the look on the Scot's face, I could not repress a smile of my own. “I must admit the visit had its humorous moments. For some reason, Madam Valentine's ladies found him wholly irresistible.”

I went on to describe the details of our visit to the parlor house, including the new information about how Brielle had come to be Gerald Knight's mistress. Samuel raised one sandy-brown eyebrow, when I mentioned the constant watch Knight kept on the girl.

“Madam Valentine was right. What a shame you can't use Knight's own suspicious nature against him. That would certainly qualify as poetic justice, wouldn't it?”

“Yes,” I agreed with a sigh. “If the men doing the watching didn't work for Knight.”

“That's true. So, what are you going to do about the lovely Miss Bouchard?”

I related Papa's suggestion that I arrange for Gerald Knight to see his child and ex-mistress. Unfortunately, my brother appeared no more hopeful about the plan than did I.

“I suppose you can try,” he said doubtfully, “but it strikes me as being pretty futile. Knight doesn't strike me as the sort of man to be swayed by sentiment.”

“Considering his behavior toward Brielle, I'm sure he isn't. But it's our only option and I have to try. It infuriates me that he should so easily get away with shirking his responsibilities toward his own child. Brielle will be forced into a life of prostitution, while he continues to enjoy a comfortable, even luxurious, life. It's patently unfair!”

“Sadly, life isn't always fair, Sarah, you should know that by now. And from what you said the girl went into this with her eyes open. She and Knight went so far as to draw up a contract.”

“Which he broke when he cast her into the street.”

“That's true. But allow me to point out the obvious—that contract never had a chance from the beginning.”

“I know. That's why I'm determined that Knight at least see his baby.”

“You must do what you think best. But I guarantee that Gerald Knight will not endanger the future of his marriage, and his newspaper, by admitting to having an affair behind his wife's back. The same wife who controls the family's purse strings.”

There was no sense arguing the matter. Samuel was probably right anyway. However, I had one chance and one chance only to help Brielle. As soon as possible I planned to put my plan into action.

Before I left Samuel's room, however, I suddenly remembered the interview our father had arranged for my brother. “I think you should know that Papa has set up an appointment for you at Cunningham and Brill's law firm on Tuesday morning.”

“What?” Once again, Samuel stopped unpacking and sank down onto the bed. “Good Lord!”

“I thought that would be your reaction. What are you going to tell him?”

He threw up his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I always knew it would eventually come to this. It all boils down to two choices: either I take the bar exam and go to work for Arthur Cunningham, or I admit to Father that for the past five years I've been masquerading as Ian Fearless, the infamous crime reporter he holds in such disdain.

“Either way, one of us is going to end up very unhappy.”

A
s planned, the following morning I met Li Ying's interpreter outside the city jail. He was a short, wiry man, with jet-black hair carefully shaved above the temple and worn in a long queue, or braid, down his back. He was dressed in the dark, high-necked tunic and baggy trousers which were the predominant mode of costume among the Chinese. On his shorn head he wore a black cap, and his feet were encased in simple black slippers. With a deep bow, and speaking broken, if carefully precise, English, he politely introduced himself to me as Sun Kin Lu.