Our footsteps echoed down the narrow stairwell. At the bottom we came into a dimly lit area. Smoke swirled around one hissing lamp, so it was hard to see what lay beyond, but I could make out wooden platforms around the walls. Figures lay on them, some smoking from long pipes, others lying in a stupor. At intervals around the room braziers glowed. Although I knew it was not a true opium den, I felt a rush of fear. The air was cloying with scented smoke and suddenly I felt that I couldn’t breathe. I turned and tiptoed back up the stairs as Connors’s voice said in a hushed stage whisper, “They are all in the land of their dreams. For the moment they are happy. They have escaped from their troubles. But the moment the drug wears off, they will have to repeat the process. Once smoked, the drug takes over their lives. They will never escape from it, never be free.”
I came out into the fresh air and stood catching my breath, ashamed of my momentary panic. It wasn’t like me to be so easily frightened, especially when I knew that the scene had been staged for the benefit of the tourists and the moment they departed the actors would go back to their normal lives. But there was something about the place—some undercurrent of danger that I had picked up. I put it out of my mind and went straight to the Chius’ residence.
In response to my knock the door was opened by a tall young man. He was so like Frederick Lee in appearance that I gasped out, “Frederick?”
“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asked, and I realized that the similarity was in the Eurasian features and this boy was younger and skinnier.
“You must be Mrs. Chiu’s son who is attending Princeton,” I said. “My name is Murphy. I wondered if I might speak to your parents?”
“Who is it, Joe?” a man’s voice called from beyond the screen.
“An Irish lady, dad. Mrs. Murphy,” the boy called back. “Wants to speak to you and mom.”
“From the church or the missions?”
“Didn’t say.”
“I’ll be right there,” the man’s voice said, and a slightly built Chinaman came around the screen, straightening his ascot.
I held out my hand to him. “Molly Murphy,” I said. “I had the pleasure of meeting your wife the other day and I wondered if I could have a word with you both.”
“Come in,” he said, ushering me through the hallway. “Aileen,” he called. “You’ve got company.”
“I’m just finishing up in here,” Mrs. Chiu’s voice came from the far end of the passage.
“Take a seat. She’ll be coming right away.” Mr. Chiu escorted me to the sofa. I sat. “If you’ve come to visit, I’m afraid this isn’t a good time. We’re just about to go out,” he said. Although his words were slightly clipped and staccato, his English was remarkably good. “We take a picnic to Staten Island with friends from church today.”
“How lovely. It’s a perfect day for a picnic,” I said. “I won’t keep you long. I came actually because I need some help and your wife is the only person I know in Chinatown whom I felt I could approach.”
At that moment Aileen Chiu came into the room, wiping her hands on the apron she wore over her good clothes. “Sorry, I was just finishing making the egg sandwiches,” she said. Her face broke into a smile when she saw me. “Why, it’s you, Miss Murphy. How nice to see you again. But I’m afraid you’ve come at a bad time. We’re just on our way out. We’re meeting friends at the Staten Island ferry. We always share a picnic with members of our church on Labor Day.”
“I’m sorry. Of course I won’t keep you then,” I said. “Perhaps I could come back later today when you get home?”
“We usually stay pretty late,” she said, giving her husband a worried glance. “What is this about?”
“You remember the young man you saw me with the other day, Frederick Lee?” I said. “You thought he was my sweetheart?”
“Of course I remember. I used to know his mother before she passed away, God rest her poor soul,” Aileen Chiu said.
I took a deep breath. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Frederick has been arrested for the murder of Lee Sing Tai. They are holding him in the Tombs.”
“Holy Mother of God,” Aileen Chiu muttered. “We heard about Mr. Lee being killed, of course, but I don’t think we knew he was murdered, did we, Albert?”
“There were rumors going around On Leong, but nobody knew anything definite,” Mr. Chiu said. “So they’ve arrested Frederick Lee, have they? That’s too bad.”
“I’m sure he’s innocent,” I said. “So I wondered if you might know how to obtain a lawyer for him. I don’t believe he’ll get a fair hearing otherwise. I suspect that Captain Kear wants to pin it on Frederick because he’s not connected to one of the tongs.”
“Captain Kear. I might have known,” Aileen Chiu said, smoothing her hands down her apron. “That man’s nothing but trouble. He’s given Albert his share of grief, hasn’t he, my dear, because Albert won’t go along with bribing the police.”
“Let’s not go into that,” Albert said curtly. “So Frederick Lee is being held in the Tombs and you want us to find a lawyer to represent him?”
“A good lawyer,” I said. “I just wondered if you knew such a person. I don’t know how much Frederick could pay, but I hate to think of him being browbeaten into a confession because he has nobody to speak for him.”
“Quite right,” Albert Chiu said. “Don’t worry, Miss Murphy. I will try to do something about this. I will ask my fellow church members today and if they can’t come up with anybody, then I will go to CCBA tomorrow. They will certainly find someone to represent him.”
“CCBA? What’s that?” I asked
“It is the Consolidated Benevolent Association. It looks after the welfare of Chinese citizens.”