By now, the crowd that had assembled to stare at the car found themselves being entertained by the man and woman in the front seats. They began to applaud and cheer them on.
Bell pulled back and smiled wickedly. “I was never able to resist a beautiful lady.”
Marion was almost swept away by the moment—almost but not quite. “Can we please move away?” she insisted.
Bell laughed, tipped his hat to the people cheering him on, and shifted the Locomobile into first gear. He stepped lightly on the gas pedal and moved into the street amid the flow of traffic. He drove north on Montgomery before turning left into Chinatown. He swung into an alley and came to a stop behind a large Mandarin-style restaurant, painted red and gold and with a pagoda roof. An attendant waiting there bowed.
“I will watch your car, sir.”
Bell gave him a tip that made the attendant’s eyes pop. “I’m counting on you.” Then he helped Marion from her seat to the ground.
“The Empress of Shanghai,” she said, staring at the ornate entrance. “I’ve always wanted to eat here.”
“It came highly recommended.”
“I wondered how you knew about the rear parking.”
After they entered a long hallway, they were greeted by a beautiful woman with long shiny black hair wearing a Chinese sheath silk dress slit high on the sides. She led them upstairs to a small private dining room and seated them. While they were studying the menu, a pot of tea arrived and was poured.
“You were limping,” she said.
“A little memento of Telluride, Colorado.”
For the first time, she noticed the bandage on his head as he removed his hat. She frowned and raised her eyebrows. “Another memento?”
He nodded and smiled gamely.
Marion looked into Bell’s eyes and her own eyes became misty. “You don’t know how happy I am that you weren’t killed.”
“Your boss certainly tried.”
“Mr. Cromwell!” she exclaimed as her mood altered from compassion to alarm. “I don’t understand.”
“He’s the man who shot me and killed a Van Dorn agent who was my friend.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Like it or not, Jacob Cromwell is the Butcher Bandit who has held up over twenty banks in the past twelve years and killed nearly forty innocent people.”
“That’s crazy!” Marion bit her lower lip. She looked as if she was lost and had nowhere to turn. “He couldn’t have done what you say.”
“What I said is true,” Bell said with a sudden gentleness. “We have evidence. Maybe not enough to convict, but it falls at Cromwell’s doorstep.”
“But he’s helped so many people in need,” she protested.
“A front,” said Bell icily. “He’s built a wall around his empire, guarded by an army of good citizens who believe he and Margaret are generous people who want to help the poor out of the goodness of their hearts. It’s an act. Cromwell could care less about those who are destitute. He uses them to promote his own purposes. In the eyes of the city’s crooked politicians, he can do no wrong so long as he supports them with secret donations.”
Confused, Marion sipped at her tea, her hand noticeably trembling. “I simply refuse to believe it,” she murmured.
Bell reached across the table and took both her hands in his. “Believe me, Marion, it’s true. I looked into his eyes and recognized him the instant he shot me at the bank in Telluride.”
She pulled her hands back and clasped them together tightly. “Oh, Isaac, it’s all too fantastic. Why would Jacob rob banks when he already owns the second-largest bank in San Francisco? The thought is too absurd to be real.”
“I can’t give you an answer, Marion. In the beginning, he took the money to build his own bank. But when he became rich, the robbery and killings became an obsession. I’ve seen many cases like Cromwell’s. The robberies and the murders are like a narcotic for him. He can’t help himself, and will go on killing until I stop him.”
She looked up into his sensitive violet eyes across the table. They had turned dark and cold. “You, Isaac? Does it have to be you?”
“I can’t let him go on murdering people.” Bell spoke the words in a monotone, as if he were reading an accusation in a courtroom. “I am not going to let him thumb his nose at the law and continue to run around free, living the life of a wealthy Santa Claus.” Then he added, “And that goes for his sister, Margaret. She’s buried in his evil operations up to her pretty neck.”
Marion dipped her head in utter confusion as her hat covered her eyes. “I’ve known Jacob and Margaret for years and yet I didn’t know them.”
“It’s hard,” Bell said softly, “but you’ll have to accept it.”
She tilted her head back and the forward brim of her wide flowered hat rose until he could look directly into her coral–sea green eyes. “What can I do?” she asked softly.
“For one thing, you must go on as if you know nothing. Continue your duties as his loyal secretary. Our agents will have both brother and sister under constant surveillance. All you have to do is report anything suspicious or unusual regarding Jacob’s actions.”
“You mean, of course, report to you.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
She suddenly had the feeling she was being used, that Bell’s interest in her was purely as an informer. She turned away so he couldn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes.
Bell immediately sensed what was whirling in her mind. He moved his chair around the table until he was sitting close enough to put his arm around her shoulders. “I know what you’re thinking, Marion, and it’s not true. I know I am asking you to commit a devious act, but lives hang in the balance. Yet there is much more. It goes far beyond a request for your help.” He paused to build up his courage. “I’m in love with you, Marion. I can’t explain why it happened so
