“How much?”
“Are you out of your mind?” His older brother grabbed him by his shirtfront and thrust him aside. “She’s obviously helping the police. Didn’t you hear what she said? Monk’d kill you.”
“So you’ve joined Monk Eastman’s gang now, have you?” I asked.
“Junior Eastman.” The boy stuck his chest out proudly. “Monk says I’m real useful to him.”
“Then I think I’ll leave the nuns to Shamey,” I said. “You’ll do your best for me, won’t you, boy?”
Shamey nodded, but with a half glance back at his cousins to see their reaction. “Come and report to me as soon as you hear anything. You remember where I live, don’t you? And at the moment I’m across the street with the two ladies. You can leave a message with them if I’m not there.” I ruffled Bridie’s hair. “I’ll see you soon then. And you’ll come to my wedding. I need a flower girl. We’ll make you a pretty dress.”
As I bent to hug her she whispered in my ear, “Let me come with you now. I don’t like it here. Those boys, they’re bad. They drink and they fight.”
“Darling, I can’t take you right now,” I said softly, “because I’m sleeping in someone else’s house. But I promise you I’ll take care of you and we’ll find a grand place for you. You just need to stick it out for a few more days—be brave for me—all right?”
She nodded. But after I left, I had terrible second thoughts. Was she actually safe there? I thought about asking Sid and Gus if I could bring her to share my room, but then I resolved to take her with me when I returned to Daniel’s mother’s house.
I started back in the direction of Chinatown. Churches. Where would a Chinese newcomer go, looking for nuns? Then, of course, I remembered the blank brick wall that was the face of the Church of the Transfiguration on Mott itself. It had never crossed my mind that she might be there, still in the neighborhood. Surely she wouldn’t have stayed so close, within easy reach of Mr. Lee, would she? But she might have gone there for help. Perhaps she had found nuns there who had spirited her away to their convent. It was worth a try, anyway. I went back to Mott, which had become quite lively at this time of day. There were men going into restaurants, returning home with bags of provisions, standing together talking, sitting drinking tea. A few half-Irish children kicked a ball around, but there was not a woman in sight. I tried the heavy oak door of the church and it opened to my touch, leading me into a different world. The quiet peace and muted light through the stained glass windows was in contrast to the gaudy colors and loud, staccato speech outside. I stood, breathing in the tranquility, trying to collect my thoughts, and as usual wondering what on earth I was doing getting involved again in something so complicated. A piece of stolen jewelry was one thing, but now I had no idea how I should proceed if I found the girl. I was being paid to carry out a commission. Was it up to me to make a judgment on the moral validity of my assignment? Maybe that’s why I wasn’t a good detective like Daniel, who had learned to prevent himself from becoming personally involved in his cases.
The church was silent and empty apart from an old Italian woman, dressed all in black, praying at a statue of St. Anthony. I went up to her and asked where I might find the priest. She pointed at the confessional where a red light was on. I went and sat beside it, waiting patiently, and eventually he came out.
“Were you still waiting for confession?” he asked, in a voice that still betrayed a hint of the Irish.
“No, thank you, Father. I was wondering if a young Chinese woman had come here, seeking sanctuary.”
“She did indeed.” His lip curled with distaste. “Wanted my help in getting her away from some man. Probably her pimp, since the only women here are prostitutes. I told her there was nothing I could do for her.” He folded his arms expressively over his cassock. “This used to be a good Italian and Irish neighborhood, you know, before those Chinese came and took over. And the last thing we want is Chinese women here—then the men won’t ever want to go home again if their womenfolk are allowed to come here, and there will be no getting rid of them.”
“So a young Chinese woman did come to you—about five or six days ago?”
“My housekeeper found her hiding in the church after the last mass of the day, when she went in to tidy up the hymnbooks. Brought her to me. I told her I was sorry but I wasn’t going to get involved in Chinese business. They’re a violent people, you know. You should see the killings that went on when the tongs were at war. Men shot and stabbed in broad daylight as they walked down the street or sat in the restaurants. I have to make sure I stay out of it.”
“So you sent her away—where did you send her?”
“I’ve no idea. I told my housekeeper to feed her and then get rid of her.”