them.”
“Ah.” I nodded. We were finally getting to the point. “You want me to visit the missions for you.”
“Exactly. This is a job for a white woman, a Christian woman. You will know the right questions to ask. You will bring my bride back to me. You will tell her that she now belongs to me and obeys me. Her behavior disgraces her family in China.”
“Which denomination were these missionaries?”
“I do not know one type of Christian from another. They are all equally annoying—and interfering with our people, trying to convert them from our religions to yours. But you will find no shortage of mission houses near Chinatown. They try hard, these Christians.”
“And if your bride won’t come with me?”
“Then you will come to me and I will have her brought back. But it must be done discreetly. Word of this must not reach fellow Chinese. I should lose face in their eyes. They would say Lee Sing Tai cannot even control his woman—how can he control powerful tong? This must not happen, you understand. It is important beyond anything.”
I wanted to say that the happiness of his bride should be important above everything, but he obviously didn’t see it that way. To him a woman was the same as a piece of jade.
“Find her and I will make it well worth your while,” he said. “It is for her own happiness as well as mine. If she does not return to me, then there is no hope for her. She cannot stay at mission forever. She cannot return home to China, even if she had the money to do so. Her family would not take her back after this disgrace. So where would she go? Only the houses of low women would welcome her. Tell her this. Make sure she understands that she is being foolish and childish. If she returns to me and behaves as a good wife should, then no more will be said and she will lead a happy life.”
I had been feeling no enthusiasm for this assignment, but I did see his point. Much as I disliked his calling her his possession, she was his wife, and as such he had legal rights over her. And how would she survive? I had tried to survive alone in New York City when I first arrived and had nearly starved and frozen to death. How much harder would it be for a Chinese girl? It was all too likely that she’d be lured or snatched into prostitution.
I got to my feet. “Very well, Mr. Lee. I will do my very best to find your bride and bring her home to you.”
He almost smiled. At least his face twitched in what could be interpreted as a smile. “I am pleased to hear this, Miss Murphy. I look forward to your returning to me soon with good news.”
He was about to clap his hands when I picked up the photograph in its leather case. “May I take this with me? It might help jog people’s memories.”
“Take care with it, and return it to me safely,” he said.
“I will.”
He clapped his hands. The houseboy and Frederick Lee appeared and I was escorted from the room. I couldn’t help looking across at the red silk drapes as I waited for them to appear. I thought I saw a hand holding those drapes. A hand with long fingernails.
Eight
Frederick Lee said nothing as he escorted me down the stairs and out into the street. The street was still empty, but I could hear the distant clatter of commerce from Mulberry and the Bowery.
As Frederick took my elbow to steer me down the steep outside steps, a young man came flying up the steps, nearly colliding with us and butting me in the middle. At the last minute he checked himself, realizing that he was almost touching a white woman’s skirt, and looked up into my face with astonishment.
“Why this person visit my father?” he demanded, not apologizing but glaring at me angrily for being in his way. And his very choice of the words, “this person,” made my hackles rise. I wondered for a moment whether he believed I was a prostitute until he added, “If she is missionary lady, then too bad. She won’t make my father change to her religion or make him change his ways.” He gave a scornful laugh, still looking at me as if I wasn’t a person at all.
I fought back my desire to tell him exactly what I thought of him, knowing I couldn’t reveal the reason for my visit. Also I was puzzled by his calling Lee Sing Tai his father.
“Your esteemed father requested to speak with this young woman,” Frederick Lee answered for me. He spoke with cold and measured formality.
“For what reason?” This young man spat out the words in clipped syllables like the man he had called his father but not with the latter’s command of English.
“As to that, it was personal business between Miss Murphy and your esteemed father,” Frederick said. “Even I was sent away while they were in discussion.”
“Even you? You are only secretary. I am his son.”
“A paper son. Very different,” Frederick said.
“In the eyes of the American law I am his son. That’s all that matters.” And with that he pushed past us and continued up the stairs.
“I must apologize for this man’s rude behavior,” Frederick said as we continued down the street.
“That was Mr. Lee’s son?” I asked. “But I thought he had no sons. I thought the reason for bringing…” I bit off the words at the last second. It was probable that Frederick Lee did not know his employer had brought in a young bride from China, or that she was now missing. That was why he had been dismissed from the room while we spoke.
“He is only a paper son,” Frederick said scornfully. “Bobby Lee.”
“A paper son? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the term.”
He looked surprised. “Perhaps the practice is not well known outside of Chinatown,” he said. “The Exclusion Act prevents Chinese men from bringing in their wives, but merchants are allowed to send for their sons. So one of the only ways for a Chinese man to come into this country is to pretend that he is the son of a merchant already here. This is simple to do. Your authorities do not read Chinese to understand our birth certificates. So if a young man in
