Cole knew which of the warehouses belonged to Tobin. Luckily, they were all in the same area along the docks. He and Loo made their way carefully toward the big, dark, looming buildings. The waterfront was deserted at this time of night. The only noises were the lapping of waves, the rubbing and squeaking of hawsers against pilings, and the distant moan of a foghorn. Cole walked as quietly as possible, and Loo slipped along behind him on soundless feet.
Stopping in the shadows of an alley across from several warehouses, Cole waited for Loo to come up alongside him, then leaned over and whispered, "Which one?"
Loo pointed, and Cole stared intently at the warehouse he indicated. Cole was looking for signs of suspicious activity, but he didn't see any. The place was quiet and seemingly deserted.
He turned back to Loo and hissed, "Are you sure?"
The man nodded emphatically.
"We'd better get over there, then," Cole said. There was very little light, only a faint glow from a gas streetlight two blocks away, and that illumination was diffused by the thickening fog. If they moved quickly, Cole thought, he and Loo could get across the street without being noticed. He took a deep breath, then dashed toward the warehouse, trying to run as quietly as possible.
Suddenly, as he approached the building, figures emerged from the alleys at both sides of the warehouse. As men loomed in the darkness, Cole slid to a stop. He felt his heart sinking and cursed himself for walking into this trap. He spun around, but Loo stood there smiling, and now there was a hatchet in the man's hand.
"They whipped you and then nearly killed you," Cole said.
"All for the glory of Wing Ko and the Feathered Dragon Society."
So he had been right all along about the fanaticism of the tong members, Cole thought Little good the knowledge would do him now, he reflected bitterly.
But with any luck, he tried to reassure himself, Annabel had been able to reach someone in the police department, and help could be on the way even now. Cole hoped so, because fully a dozen of Wing Ko's boo how doy had emerged from the fog and were now surrounding him. There was no hope of fighting his way free.
He took a deep breath as the circle of hatchet men suddenly parted and two more men strolled through the gap. The tall, ascetic-looking Chinese with a thin mustache and a small goatee, wearing an expensive silk robe and a small round cap, had to be Wing Ko. Cole had met with his emissaries, but had never actually seen the man.
The second man, however, was well known to him, and Cole muttered a curse at the sight of Garrett Ingersoll's smirking face. "I should have known," he. said.
"Indeed you should have," Ingersoll mocked. "Who would benefit more from having you in jail for arson and your company in ruins? Losing one warehouse full of goods was a small price to pay for what I'll gain in the long run, now that I'm in partnership with my esteemed companion."
"Enough talk," Wing Ko said. He inclined his head toward the warehouse in front of which they all stood. 'Take him inside and prepare to start the fire."
"Why are you doing this?" Cole asked quickly as several of the hatchet men started to close in on him. "Wasn't your plan working fast enough to suit you, Garrett?"
"As a matter of fact, it wasn't," Ingersoll said. He moved a step closer to Cole, and Wing Ko motioned for his men to wait a moment. "We lined up enough evidence and witnesses to point the finger of suspicion at you, but even though Sullivan and Fernack investigated, they're still not any closer to arresting you." Ingersoll's voice grew harsh and bitter. "Everyone in San Francisco seems to think you're some sort of hero. The wonderful
Cole Brady! Anyone else would have been behind bars by now, but not you. Oh, no, not Cole Brady! If I was suspected of arson, they'd lock me up and throw away the key!"
Even under these desperate circumstances, Cole couldn't help but smile slightly as he said, "You know, Garrett, I think you're right."
Ingersoll's hand flashed up and cracked across Cole's face. "He cursed and said, "You'll regret that, Brady. But not for long, because you're not going to live long. Poor Tobin's warehouse is going to burn down, but this time there's going to be a difference. You're going to set this fire yourself, instead of trusting the job to your hirelings. But you're going to make a fatal mistake and get caught in the flames yourself." Ingersoll shook his head in mock regret. "Such a shame. But at least now everyone in San Francisco will be convinced that you really were guilty." He stepped back and said to Wing Ko, "Go ahead."
Before any of the hatchet men could grab Cole, another Chinese man came running put of the fog. He spoke quickly to Wing Ko, who listened intently and then smiled. The tong leader snapped some orders in rapid Chinese, and the newcomer bowed and hurried off into the darkness, again.
"What's going on?" Ingersoll demanded.
"Change in plans," Wing Ko said smoothly. "We now have another lever to use on Mr. Brady."
"Another lever?" Ingersoll echoed. "What the devil are you talking about? It's over. We're going to kill him!"
Wing Ko shook his head. "Not yet" He snapped his fingers and pointed at Ingersoll. Two of the boo how doy stepped up quickly and grabbed Ingersoll's arms.