“Bobby Lee’s were on it,” he said, “but not Frederick Lee’s. There was also a set of prints that we can’t identify yet. And apparently plenty of motives for killing Lee in those little drawers—protection money contracts, IOUs for large sums of money, and who knows what else. Most of them in Chinese, but not all. What seem to be promissory notes from Americans were there as well. I didn’t have time to get much of the Chinese translated for me. Just enough to get the idea that a lot of very diverse people owed Lee money.”
“Did you happen to come across a document involving Bobby Lee?” I asked. “One concerning his status as a paper son?”
“No,” Daniel said. “What are you hinting at?”
“Just a thought,” I said. “Mr. Lee had this girl brought over because he wanted a son—a real son. Bobby Lee was no relative really, so he would be supplanted by a real flesh-and-blood son, and apparently Mr. Lee had made it clear that Bobby would inherit nothing when he died.”
“How on earth did you learn this?” Daniel demanded.
Of course I’d learned it from Bo Kei. “Frederick Lee told me a little of it after Bobby was so rude to him, then more came out when Captain Kear was questioning Bobby. And I’ll tell you another thing that was suspicious. Mr. Lee wore the key to that cabinet in a chain around his neck. Today it was in the cabinet. So I wondered if the body showed any kind of bruising around the neck where the chain had been.”
Daniel laughed. “Where the chain had been?—my dear, he was in such a mess that his whole body was bruised and bleeding. But that was an interesting observation. You noticed the chain around his neck when he was alive, did you?”
“Yes,” I said, although that wasn’t exactly true. But I did have it on good authority from one who had seen him in his night attire.
“So your suggestion is that we look more closely at Bobby Lee?” Daniel said after a pause. “And we hunt for some kind of document that proves he isn’t Lee’s true son and he doesn’t stand to inherit when Lee dies?”
“That is what I am suggesting,” I said. “Although I can’t see why he wouldn’t have had time to remove an incriminating piece of paper before the police arrived.”
“The houseboy slept just on the other side of the screen. Perhaps he woke up before Bobby could go through the whole cabinet.”
“Then if he knew Bobby had been there, why didn’t he tell that to the police when Captain Kear questioned him?” I asked.
“Either loyalty or fear. From what I’ve heard of Bobby Lee, and from what I know of the ways the tongs operate, the boy could have been afraid of having his hand or ear or tongue cut off.”
I tried not to gasp, but my body gave an involuntary shudder.
Daniel noticed. “They are ruthless people, Molly. They have different notions of loyalty and revenge and they regard life as cheap. That’s why I’m relieved you had the sense to want no part in this whole sordid business.”
I nodded demurely, looking down so that I didn’t meet his eye.
“You’d have thought that Bobby would have had opportunities before this to sneak in and remove a piece of paper, wouldn’t you? That really must mean that he could never get his hands on Mr. Lee’s key or that the paper was cleverly hidden.”
“Or that Lee checked at regular intervals,” Daniel suggested. “Bobby wouldn’t have dared to remove it while his father was alive. He was much too afraid of him.”
“So what will you do now?” I asked.
“It’s still Kear’s case. I’ll tell him to get an official translation of everything in that cabinet.” He paused, studying my expression. “Better yet, I’ll find my own translator and put him to work on it right away. Thank you, you’ve been a big help.” He took a couple of more bites of cold salmon, a swig of champagne, then got to his feet. “I suppose we’d better go and mingle before I have to leave again.”
We came out into the hallway. “I know you’re suggesting it was Bobby Lee,” he said, “but I really want that girl found.”
“Girl?” I asked innocently.
“This missing bride. She has an equally good motive for killing the old man. The timing of her flight is just too coincidental for me, and I did notice small footprints when I was up on the roof.”
I tried not to glance up the stairs.
“If she was his bride, and his bed was up there, she might well have walked around quite legitimately on the roof,” I pointed out.
“But these looked rather fresh, didn’t they? And they were at the edge of the roof. At the very least she used the roof as a way to escape, and at worst, she came back that way to kill Lee.”
“If you were examining footprints, what did you think about those heavy men’s boots?” I asked. “Weren’t they equally fresh?”
“Ah, yes. The big boots. I suppose they could be,” he said. “It’s hard to tell. Lee could have brought in a Caucasian workman to fix a leaking roof. The Chinese don’t have that kind of footwear. But to come back to the missing woman—tell me, exactly how far did you get in your search for her?” His voice echoed up the stairwell.
I glanced up nervously, half expecting to hear scurrying feet. “Not very far,” I said. “I tried the various missions around Chinatown and while doing so, I found out what was going on and didn’t want to return the girl to Mr. Lee.”
“I’ve had men on the lookout for her today,” he said.
“Any luck?” I asked cautiously.
“One false lead. We heard of a Chinese girl hiding out at one of those settlement houses. But this one turned out to have escaped from a brothel, and the settlement workers said that she’s dying of consumption.” He paused
