The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,49

to the door, and called out, “Who is it?”

When a male voice answered that he had come to serve a warrant, Dolly rang the brass gong by the door. Sounding the gong in the daylight hours would have been the girls’ first alert to stop lessons, drop their sewing projects, and put away brooms. Then the papered girls could gather in the chapel while the unpapered ones would go down the back stairs to hide in the basement. Would the signal work at night?

She stalled as long as she could by turning the multiple deadbolts one by one, as slowly as she could, giving the girls more time to prepare or hide. Then she opened the door a crack. Three men stood on the porch.

A tall man with slicked-back hair, wearing a double-breasted suit, said, “We have a search warrant for Chan Juan.”

She knew the man in the suit, a lawyer by the name of Abe Ruef. He used to work with Miss Culbertson, but recently he had sold out to the tong, and now he did their dirty work.

Dolly glanced at the Chinese man behind the lawyer. His cold gaze could have frozen an entire Chinese banquet. Ruef shoved the warrant toward Dolly, and she took it, but not before glancing at Officer Cook. His expression was closed, his eyes shuttered. Dolly knew he hated this as much as she did, yet he’d been called upon to see this warrant served and executed.

Panic stung her throat. Applying for guardianship had become a crucial part of every rescue, but sometimes the paperwork was slow to process. And the name on the warrant was Chan Juan, a girl who’d only been with them for three days. She had just begun interacting with the other girls, and color had slowly returned to her cheeks.

After stalling as long as she could by reading every word of the warrant, Dolly drew open the door to let the men in, hoping beyond hope that she’d given the unpapered girls enough time to make it to the basement and hide under the rice bags by the gas meter. “You’re welcome to look for Chan Juan,” Dolly said. “I don’t think she is here, though. These girls come and go.”

Tension vibrated from Cook as he entered and moved past her. She could very well guess his thoughts. They had both been witnesses to girls being returned to their owners. Better-case scenarios were when the judges placed them with Chinese families or allowed them to stay in the mission home, where Dolly adopted them as wards. Not-so-favorable judgments included the deportation of Chinese girls back to China, or the girls being released as wives to the Chinese husbands who claimed there had been a legal marriage. Which usually meant the girl was returned to a life of slavery or prostitution.

“Please take care to respect our property while you look.” Dolly lifted a brow at Abe Ruef. “Translate for your client, please.”

Ruef translated, but the Chinese owner didn’t seem fazed, and he barreled into the kitchen, banging through cupboards. Dolly followed. The owner was thorough, checking each cupboard and shifting through the rice bags in the pantry. Finding no one, he moved to the dining room and checked behind the folding doors.

Next, he headed upstairs, and Dolly accompanied him as he looked into the bedrooms, scouted under beds, and opened closets.

Mrs. Field came out of her bedroom and stood like a sentinel at the top of the landing, watching the men go in and out of the other rooms.

Chan Juan was not among any of the faces. Dolly could not relax, though—not until these men were gone. She hoped that Chan Juan was smart enough to stay in the basement and not try to escape through the underground tunnel. Her owner might have a guard watching outside.

Dolly accompanied the owner down the stairs, followed by Mrs. Field, who was quite pale.

The owner paused at the front double doors. His face red with frustration, he cursed Dolly in Chinese. She didn’t need an interpreter to recognize when he called her the Fahn Quai. If that was what the tong chose to call her, then so be it. Dolly would wear the title with pride.

The Chinese owner and his lawyer left the house, promising to return the next day, and possibly the next. When Cook paused on the threshold before leaving, he turned to Dolly and said in a quiet voice, “Secure those guardianship papers as soon as possible, Miss Cameron.