Rue Allyn Read Free Page B

before I could catch them and calm them down.”
    “Are they safe?”
    “Smiley’s got nine of them in the wagon ready to head for the mission. The nuns will discover if any of the women have family and reunite them.”
    “The tenth one is right there.” Dutch pointed at the tiny Chinese woman who started to stir. “Better get her out of here. I’ll clean up this mess.”
    Trey bent to take the woman in his arms.
    “No!”
    Startled by her shout in English, Dutch and Trey both leapt back.
    The dagger gleamed in her hand. She jabbed it in Trey’s direction. “Tsung stay.”
    “What now, Dutch?”
    “Beats me.” He scratched his forehead. “You can’t stay, Miss. Don’t you want to find your family, or get a job?”
    “I stay with Mista Dutch. He make gift of life to me. I take care of Mista Dutch until I give equal gift. Find family later.”
    Trey looked at Dutch, then back at the knife-wielding woman. “Oh boy, are you in trouble.”
    “Not half as much as I was a minute ago. Take Duval. Get her into a rickshaw and pay the driver to take her to her place in Morton Street then relieve Smiley. He needs to get home to his wife. They’re leaving tomorrow to visit her folks.”
    “Right. What will you do?”
    “Clean up this mess and try to get the lady with the knife to the wagon. If I don’t succeed by the time you get there, leave without me.”
    “No go!” Eyes narrowed and jaw set, the tiny woman still brandished the dagger.
    “Suit yourself.” Dutch moved around her. He figured he had time to deal with her, since she claimed she wanted to stay with him. First, he needed to get rid of the dead man and clean the deck before the blood set and gave proof of the crimes committed here tonight.
    He hefted the corpse, carried it to the ship’s rail, and dumped the body over the side. He wouldn’t have bothered if he’d thought he could prove that Duval had committed the murder, but as always, she’d been clever. As easily as he could claim the madam had done murder, she could claim she defended the Chinese woman from the dead man and Dutch. Knowing Duval’s connections within the city, he wouldn’t bet a plug nickel that he could prove his claim over hers.
    With both Duval and the Chinaman to worry about, he didn’t need San Francisco’s excuse for a justice system investigating him for murder. So the clean up was essential.
    He moved away from the rail and went looking for a mop, scrub brush, and bucket. The last place he expected to find them was in possession of the tiny Chinese woman.
    She was on her hands and knees scouring the blood and bits of brain from the deck.
    “Well, I’ll be a plucked duck.”
    “I finish soon. You wait.”
    “You speak English pretty well.” He blinked but shouldn’t have been surprised. Many Chinese learned English. They saw it as good business.
    She continued to scrub. “Speak good English. For Mista Dutch, I clean good. For Mista Dutch, I wash good. For Mista Dutch, I cook too. Serve Mista Dutch. Take good care Mista Dutch, all time.”
    He hunkered beside the woman. “You don’t understand. I want to make sure you don’t have to serve anyone. You can work for a living.”
    She stopped scrubbing, raised the lantern, and studied the area where the corpse had fallen, then she nodded. “Clean, now. No blood. No brains.”
    Dutch lifted the bucket and sluiced the remaining water across the newly scrubbed deck. “Thank you.”
    “No, Tsung thank you. You give gift of miserable life. Only fair Tsung give equal gift. I stay with you until I do that.”
    Dutch studied the tiny woman. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now we need to leave.”
    “Yes, leave here. No leave Mista Dutch. Tsung stay.”
    Suddenly weary, Dutch didn’t argue. He extracted a paper wrapped square of chocolate from his coat pocket and popped the treat into his mouth. First Mrs. Smithfeld, then Cerise, and now Tsung Tsang. Why was he suddenly plagued by obstinate women?

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