Bless the Bride (Molly Murphy, #10)

We reached the living room. Captain Kear indicated I should sit on the sofa and took the big chair himself.

“Take a seat, Bobby,” he said, waving graciously at an uncomfortable-looking upright wooden chair.

Bobby scowled as he perched on the chair.

“Okay, Bobby, now let’s talk about what happened to your father,” Captain Kear said. “Do you know anything that can shed some light on this? Can you think of anyone who would want to kill Lee Sing Tai?”

“Hip Sing, of course,” Bobby said quickly. “They would be happy if no more Lee Sing Tai in On Leong. He control too much of Chinatown.”

“Do you really think they’d be stupid enough to risk starting the war again right now?” the captain asked. “And if they were going to kill Lee, do you think this is the way they’d choose to do it?”

Bobby pursed his lips, thinking. “Okay. Maybe not. Push man off roof is coward’s way. They would shoot him or stab him in his bed and leave him there to be found.”

“Exactly my thoughts,” Kear said. “So what about other rivals—rivals within On Leong, for example, or business rivals?”

“Members of On Leong know that Lee Sing Tai is good for them and good for Chinatown,” he said. “They do what he say. Lee Sing Tai only one who does business with white people outside of Chinatown. He important man. Nobody to take his place.”

“And business rivals?”

“Business rivals? Lee Sing Tai control business in Chinatown, except for Hip Sing properties.”

“So you’re saying he had no rivals who might want to kill him to get him out of the way?”

Suddenly Bobby Lee’s face lit up. “Ah,” he said, waving a knowing finger at Captain Kear. “I know who did this. Of course. It was Frederick Lee.”

“Frederick Lee? Another paper son?”

“No, he not son. He was only Lee Sing Tai’s employee. His secretary. My father dismiss him yesterday. So maybe Frederick angry that his job has been taken from him and he come back to kill. This would be easy. He knows my father’s apartment well. I am sure he has access to keys.”

I was now sitting on the edge of my seat. “I’m sure Frederick wouldn’t do a thing like that,” I said hotly. “He spoke of Mr. Lee with great respect. And he was a quiet, educated man too.”

“How come you know Frederick Lee?” Captain Kear asked, looking at me with surprise.

“Lee Sing Tai sent him to find me. He escorted me to Chinatown and looked after me. I was impressed with him.”

“Men who have lost their jobs have acted irrationally before now,” Captain Kear said. “Especially Chinamen. They care about losing face more than losing money. So do you know why Frederick Lee was fired by your father, Bobby?”

“I do. He try to touch my father’s bride. My father send him to bring his bride to New York and he betray my father’s trust.”

“That’s not what I heard,” I said, really angry now. “I heard it was you who tried to force yourself on your father’s bride.”

Now they were both looking at me suspiciously.

“Who told you this?” Bobby Lee demanded.

I realized I had to tread cautiously here. “Frederick Lee,” I said. “I asked him if he had any idea why Bo Kei had run away and he said that she was frightened when Bobby tried to attack her.”

Bobby Lee pursed his lips in scorn again. “He lies! Of course he says this, to protect himself. I would not dare to touch bride of my esteemed father.”

Captain Kear looked from me to Bobby Lee as if he was trying to decide whom to believe.

“Let’s hear what this Frederick Lee has to say for himself, shall we?” he said. “I’ll have him brought in right away.”

I could read from his expression that he was feeling satisfied. He’d come up with a suspect who would suit everybody and not ruffle any tong feathers. My one thought now was to get back to Patchin Place as soon as possible, so that I could warn Frederick when he came to see me, expecting good news about Bo Kei. But even as this thought formed, another, more worrying idea crept into my head. Was it possible that this crime had been carried out by Frederick? A man will do much for a woman he loves, and clearly their lives would be in danger as long as Lee Sing Tai was alive. But his would not have been those large hobnailed footprints on the roof. He was of slender Chinese stature.

I had no chance to consider this further as there was the sound of voices from downstairs and Constable O’Byrne appeared, dragging an indignant Chinese man by the arm.

“I not do anything,” the man was saying. “Let go of me.”