The Silver Lotus (28 page)

Lady Yee smiled like a contented cat. She asked the gentlemen present if they had any more questions, and Marshal Sanchez again produced the rusted dirk and showed it to Mr. Beal. The marshal asked if he had seen it before, and Mr. Beal smiled and replied that he had four just like it in his galley, only his were in better condition. When asked
who might have owned the knife, the cook shook his head and said he wouldn't know, but he was sure there were at least three men aboard who carried blades like it. Such items were easily available in any port in the Pacific. Captain Hammond took the opportunity to confirm this fact by interjecting that such knives were a common Indian export. The manufacture was cheap, to be sure, but the Indian steel was good and kept a keen edge and the leather scabbards were well greased against seawater. He said his own crewmen sometimes carried them, but in general professional seamen working sail preferred more utilitarian multiplex knives, models with three or more blades of different sizes. The fact that the blades folded into the handle precluded gutting oneself accidently, which may or may not have been a factor in the present circumstances.

Lady Yee smiled at her husband's timely interjection, and asked the other guests if they had any further questions. Only Mr. Campion showed some concern for the craggy old cook, by asking what he planned to do now. Mr. Beal smiled a crooked smile and said there was good work for cooks in the railroad camps, and he looked forward to working where the threat of drowning wasn't such a constant hazard, and where the cookhouse didn't pitch around at all angles.

Lady Yee thanked Mr. Beal and passed him a five-dollar gold piece. The houseboy was called to show the man out, and then all fell quiet for long moments while the men at the table pondered what they had heard that afternoon. Lady Yee took advantage of the pause to unobtrusively leave the table. She parted without saying a word. None was necessary. She knew full well, men being what they are, that every detail of what had passed that afternoon would be common knowledge in a few days. But she also knew that the blood-scented hounds of idle speculation and dangerous gossip had been turned from Dr. Neruda and were now encouraged to course on a more promising trail, one salted with dark possibilities and with a very promising perpetrator to
liven suppositions all around. After all, Malakoff was a fugitive who had escaped custody and remained at large. But to Lady Yee's way of thinking, though she personally refused to offer judgment either way without proof, any scent that led opinion away from Dr. Neruda and the infirmary was useful and providential. By the time the authorities got their hands on the elusive Malakoff again, all sentiments to the contrary would have moved on to greener pastures, and Dr. Neruda would have been all but forgotten.

While on her way out of the room, Lady Yee nodded to her husband. This was a signal to serve the guests brandy and cigars, listen to their opinions if they cared to voice any, and then to see the gentlemen safely and quickly to their conveyances.

16

DURING DINNER THAT NIGHT, Captain Hammond gave a short account of the comments put forward by Lady Yee's guests. Mr. Campion and Mr. Atwood were of the opinion that Malakoff was at the heart of the matter, and probably the murderer. The city attorney and Marshal Sanchez kept an open mind as to guilt, but agreed that Dr. Neruda was totally above suspicion, and Mr. Winslow, the city sheriff, agreed that the Indian doctor couldn't possibly be involved in such an inbred sequence of events stretching back over years, and was, in fact, just another innocent victim dashed on the rocks of Point Lobos by the drug- and alcohol-induced incompetence of ex-captain Sigmund Malakoff.

Lady Yee didn't dwell on her victory in any fashion. Instead she remarked that she and her husband had something more important to celebrate. Captain Hammond looked surprised for a moment. He couldn't believe he'd missed the date of an anniversary or a birthday. Lady Yee smiled and passed him a small, ornate silver box, which when opened, revealed a tiny scroll of gold paper. The captain carefully unrolled the paper and read a calligraphic greeting from heaven. Below was a simple declaration, which announced that in seven and a half months Captain Hammond would become the blessed father of a new son and heir.

The captain, who was usually prepared for almost any emergency, found himself speechless once more. With tears welling in the corner of his eyes, he looked up at his beautiful wife and moved his lips, but nothing came out. And when his voice did return, all he could think to ask was how she knew it would be a son. Lady Yee simply laughed indulgently and shook her head. Captain Hammond recovered his dignity and agreed it was a ludicrous question. Then he gently kissed her hand, leaving behind a single tear like a jeweled drop of dew. He raised his glass of wine in gratitude, and toasted their mutual good fortune. With an unaccustomed emotional break in his voice, the captain vowed that he would endeavor to always be worthy of her sacrifices on his behalf. Then something else occurred to the captain and he smiled. He wondered what Macy would think of having a little brother. Lady Yee laughed and reassured her husband that as far as their daughter was concerned, the whole matter of credit for the idea of having a little brother was hers in the first place. The little imp would simply assume that she had gotten her own way once again.

Within the week Captain Hammond was happy to report that as far as Monterey County was concerned, “the Hindu” was forgotten altogether. In less than seventy-two hours, the hounds had picked out another scent, and they were baying for Malakoff's blood. The papers reported armed farmers and orchard men patrolling their barns, ricks, and outbuildings at all hours, and townsfolk took to locking their cellars and carriage houses. In no time at all, Sigmund Malakoff inherited the mantle of every evil from childhood bogeyman to Blackbeard the pirate and beyond. There wasn't a case of chicken theft, stolen apples, or purloined pie that wasn't laid at his door. And as everyone knew, fugitive murderers were the most dangerous of criminals. They were men who would not balk at the most horrendous and villainous of crimes. But that being said, there still wasn't a person in or out of authority who had the slightest idea where to lay hands on the miscreant. Sigmund
Malakoff had disappeared into the Monterey fog and was gone to all save the inventors of popular myth. And there must have been a numerous herd of such people, because Malakoff had been spotted in a score of unlikely places including a seminary in Carmel.

All of these matters ceased to be of any interest to Lady Yee almost immediately. The infirmary was her only real concern, and it was gaining in popularity with the Chinese all the time. Dr. Neruda's wife, Nandiri, and his daughter had become particular favorites among the Chinese women, especially those who were giving birth for the first time. And Chandra Din, the doctor's son-in-law, was embarrassed to discover that all the elderly Chinese ladies were flirting with him and laughing about it afterward.

Dr. Neruda and his family had already begun teaching a few promising candidates a rudimentary course of medical practices, mostly aimed at dealing with health emergencies or injuries. The biggest teaching hurdles were overcome with the help of dedicated translators, who were always young American-born Chinese. And as foreseen by Lady Yee, as soon as the infirmary became acceptable to the ancient and mysterious sisterhood of grandmothers and great-grandmothers and great-aunts and so forth, the men were encouraged, for the sake of the family, to submit themselves for proper medical treatment of illness or wounds. Midwives were instructed on sanitation, fishermen were taught how to bind injuries properly, and children were taught how to clean themselves and their food.

Provisions never seemed to be a problem because most people were constrained by economics to pay in kind. As a result, there was always an abundance of fresh fish and fruit, garden vegetables of every description, eggs, chickens, and of course, rice. One old man, whose life had been saved with proper medicines, took it upon himself to deliver two hundred gallons of fresh springwater every other day. And though he had long since discharged his debt, he kept up the practice because
he saw there was need of it, and he was inclined, he said, to gain merit for the life to come. All other necessary supplies were purchased in bulk by Hammond, Macy & Yee and delivered on a regular schedule. But the greatest indication that the infirmary was doing well came from the fact that it was no longer a topic of conversation in Monterey. The mechanism worked so smoothly that it became all but invisible in the fabric of the town. Even the used army ambulance was painted a bright Chinese blue to avoid its more somber connotations. The city fathers, always so tender to the barbs of the public touch, were grateful to be shunt of a humane responsibility for which they had no mandate, no funding, and no interest. However, the county sanitary commission showed its interest by sharing surplus medical supplies, and various small charitable organizations contributed blankets, bandages, lamp oil, and stove wood. A local Salinas brewer, who used Chinese labor, contributed a hundred gallons of 180-proof clear grain alcohol to help sanitize surgical equipment. The fishermen even established a kind of informal tithe, by which on common agreement the last two fish caught on any given day would be set aside as the freshest of the catch, and sold to help buy medicines for those who could not afford them. Lady Yee could have funded all this herself without the slightest financial burden, but she felt it was important that the Chinese make the infirmary their own, and the best way to accomplish that was to allow them to make meaningful sacrifices commensurate with their own interests and appreciation. She insisted, however, that the same modest profile be maintained, and in fact there were few white residents of Monterey County aware that such a thing as a Chinese infirmary even existed. Perhaps the most notable changes over a period of time were too subtle for most to take note of, but if one happened to spot a fisherman with a broken leg mending his nets, it might be noticed that he had been fitted with a modern plaster cast and not two boards tied together with rag line. And when he walked, it was with the help of a real crutch and not a driftwood stick.
A woman with burns from a kitchen fire could depend upon medicines and fresh bandages every few days. But intrinsically, the most wonderful thing of all as far as the Chinese elders were concerned was the lowered mortality rate among women in childbirth, infants, children, and even the elders themselves.

As soon as Lady Yee was confident that the infirmary could manage on its own, she went on to focus exclusively on another extremely important project, namely giving her husband a healthy son on or about August 1. This was the date she had decided was most auspicious for a son to be born. Captain Hammond was later proud to say that she was off schedule by only two hours. But she had cause, since there was a full moon and strong tides, which sailors believe influence such things. So at the stroke of two o'clock in the morning of August 2, Lady Yee gave birth to a strapping boy that weighed in at eight pounds, eight ounces. Mrs. Neruda and her daughter were in attendance, but there were no real complications to contend with. Dr. Neruda had a more difficult time keeping the prospective father calm and collected, but by far the most excited and exuberant member of the reception party was little Macy who, in a very proprietary fashion, had decided she had waited far too long to get her promised baby brother. With Lady Yee's blessing, Captain Hammond named his new son after his long-deceased father. The child's birth certificate read Nathanial Yee Hammond. However, this wasn't good enough for Macy, who used part of her mother's name and for some inexplicable reason began calling her baby brother Silver, and, just as inexplicably, the nickname stuck. Soon everyone called him Silver, everyone except his mother, of course, who would only bend as far as Nathan, and disallowed Nat altogether. Even Captain Hammond gave in to Macy and began to call his son Silver, but Lady Yee suspected he liked the connotation as well as the sound of Silver Hammond.

The following months were creative and rewarding. The captain purchased a steam dredge, which proved a very profitable investment,
and Lady Yee chartered a small private school for Chinese girls. There was room for only twelve students at a time, but they were instructed in a broad range of skills, and worked hard at improving their English. Macy was growing by leaps, and already showed promise with languages, speaking Chinese and French. In turn, Macy also thought it her responsibility to teach her little brother a thing or two, which sometimes backfired in amusing fashion. Little Nathan somehow picked up Macy's favorite phrase, “ba-ka,” the Japanese word for “stupid,” and to Lady Yee's complete chagrin it was the first word her son ever gave voice to. It backfired on Macy too, because it eventually became Silver's nickname for his sister when he was angry with her, which, as time went by, was often.

Another dramatic curtain suddenly arose about nine o'clock one night while Captain Hammond was in Salinas on business. He had promised Macy, who was turning four and suffering from a cold, that he would be home before midnight with a special birthday present.

Lady Yee sat up with Macy. She was coaxing her daughter to sip ginseng tea and honey to alleviate her cough when Li-Lee entered the nursery and announced that a Mexican boy at the gate was the bearer of a very strange message, and the houseboy was at a loss to know what to do. It sounded like there was a man dying in a cart. Lady Yee left Macy in the care of Li-Lee, gathered up her cloak at the front door, and followed the houseboy and his lantern out to the road. A rickety canvas-covered mule cart waited with a barefoot Mexican boy wearing a worn serape and a straw hat. In broken English he said there was a man in the cart who was coming close to meeting God. He had paid the boy's father ten dollars to bring him from Gonzales to Monterey. The man was in great pain and in search of some Chinese princess who had an infirmary for poor people.