Time of Fog and Fire: A Molly Murphy Mystery (Molly Murphy Mysteries) (27 page)

I asked the soldiers if they knew where we might find the Chinese camping.

“I heard that most of them went across the Bay to Oakland on the ferry,” one of them said.

“They couldn’t all have got out that way,” another replied. “Those ferries were packed to the gills and the Chinese would have been the last they would have allowed to board, even for money.”

“I heard there were Chinese camped down near the Panhandle,” a fresh-faced young soldier said, turning red when we all looked in his direction. He looked absurdly young to be in uniform and I found myself thinking about Liam. What if he wanted to go off and be a soldier one day? How could any mother let her son go to fight at such a tender age?

Today I will find him,
I told myself.
Any minute now I will find him and he will be safe and unharmed and all will be well.
Now all I had to do was believe it.

We learned that the Panhandle was the name given to the narrow strip of green at the city end of the park. We had no idea if the fire had reached that first part of the park and if the Chinese were still there.

“We should go in the automobile,” Daniel said. “This park stretches for many miles.”

“I think we have to go on foot,” I said. “We’ve already seen what desperate people will do to get their hands on an automobile and be able to escape from the city. Next time they may have guns.”

“But you’re still badly hurt, Molly. A blow to the head is no matter to be taken lightly. I don’t think you should walk.”

“We can take it slowly and I’ll rest if I have to,” I said. “Besides, how do we know there are tracks suitable for an automobile through the park?” I managed a confident smile, more confident than I felt, as my eyes hurt me and my head throbbed every time I turned it. But desperation to find my son outweighed anything I may have been feeling.

I could see he was still hesitating. “Daniel, I’ll be fine, honestly. And we’re right in the middle of the park here, so it can’t be too far to either end. And you know how far I used to walk back home in Ireland. Five miles a day to school for a start.”

“You’re not a schoolgirl anymore, Molly,” he said, looking at me with concern. “I say we risk the auto. There are plenty of soldiers around who will come to our aid.”

“And if they stop us because they think we’ve stolen the vehicle? Or they want to commandeer it? Or the police see us and recognize you?” I shook my head. “Too dangerous, Daniel. We’ll go on foot. I’ll make it just fine.”

He shook his head. “You’re a stubborn woman, Molly Murphy Sullivan. But I have to admit you may be right.” He held out his hand. “Come on, then. Let’s get going.”

A watery sun was beginning to push through layers of fog, surrounding us with a glowing and unreal light. The fog proved a useful ally as we walked through our own little world, not seeing or being seen. Amid the sweet and pungent smell of eucalyptus leaves we could detect the smell of smoke. As we came to more clearings we found more camps with people just stirring, but they were white folks like ourselves. No Chinese among them.

And then finally someone told us that he had seen Chinese in a dell beyond the giant tree ferns. We hurried forward and came to the tree ferns, looming out of what had now become a smoke-tinged haze, strange and beautiful, taller than our heads. And then there was the dell beyond them, a circle of green grass surrounded by tall trees. Chinese people huddled together, most of them still sleeping. Some were already squatting beside campfires, attending to cooking pots. From birdcages, placed beside sleeping owners, or on top of piles of possessions, came early morning songs. I scanned the scene, looking for Li Na’s white tunic and black trousers. There were several such but each proved to be another woman, not her.

More and more people were waking. We found Chinese who could understand English and asked, our question becoming more and more desperate each time. No, they did not know anyone called Li Na. No, they had not seen a white child. I remembered that she had only come to the city recently. She wasn’t born and raised in the city so fewer people would know her. I tried to tell myself that she was a sensible girl. Perhaps she was one of the first to get out of the city on a ferry. Perhaps she had taken my son across the Bay to Oakland, where they would have been quite safe from fire. All we had to do was find a way across to that city.

“Do you think she managed to cross the Bay to Oakland with the other Chinese?” I asked Daniel. “Should we see if we can reach a ferry and go across to look for Liam there?”

Daniel frowned. “I doubt if we can reach the ferry building,” he said. “That whole area of the city along the waterfront has gone up in flames. Surely they won’t be allowing people in where it has burned.”

We were about to walk away when I heard someone calling my name. I turned to see Ellen coming toward me. “Missy Sullivan!” There was a look of concern on her face. “What you do here? You get hurt?”

“Yes, Ellen,” I said. “I got hit on the head when I was trying to stop Li Na from running away with my son. Now I’m looking for them. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

She shook her head. “Your boy? No, we thought you had your boy. After earthquake you were gone and we thought you took him to safety. Li Na took him, you say?”

I nodded. “She ran with him down to Chinatown. Something about the Earth Dragon.”

“Ah. Earth Dragon.” She nodded as if this made sense to her. “I don’t see Li Na since the earthquake,” she said. Then suddenly she recognized Daniel.

“Mr. Sullivan?” she stammered. “But they say you dead.”

“Not quite, Ellen.” Daniel smiled at her. “But please don’t tell anyone you’ve seen me. There are still people around here who might want to kill me.”

“Wah!” she said, shaking her head. “Too many bad people. But I’m happy you are still alive. I see those men follow you all time. And then they say you fall from cliff and I don’t think this is true.”

“Quite right,” Daniel said.

“Ellen, we’d love to come back and talk to you later,” I interrupted before Daniel could tell her the whole story of what happened to him, “but right now we’re desperate to find our boy. Could you ask your friends and family if they know anything about Li Na and our son? We don’t know where to look.”

She nodded and went across to where a group of women were sitting around a campfire. A cooking pot was emitting a pungent and not too pleasant odor. She squatted beside them and an animated conversation took place. At last she got to her feet and came back to me.

“They say Li Na dead.”

“Dead? Are they sure?”

“They say they see body of girl from Hong Kong. One who wear black and white of amah.”

“And was my boy with her? Did they see his body?”

More Chinese was shouted back to the campfire. Heads were shaken. Then one of the women let out a stream of Cantonese, waving her hand for emphasis.

Ellen turned back to us. “That woman say she saw a European child in a wagon with some Chinese women. He was crying. She heard they were going to take him to the place where they putting orphans.”

“Orphans?” I demanded. “Where is that?”

Blank faces stared at me. “Can she point out the women who had my son with her?” I asked.

I was feeling like Alice who had fallen down a rabbit hole and at each twist and turn things were becoming more frightening and unreal. The request was made. The woman got to her feet, slowly and painfully, and I realized that she was one of the bound-foot women. Had she had to walk all the way here on those deformed little stubs? She shaded her eyes and stared around the encampment. Then she said something to Ellen.

“She’s not sure. She said the woman was with a man with a long mustache and a little girl, maybe her daughter, was trying to make the white baby stop crying. The girl had a long braid and was wearing a red and white flowery tunic and trousers.”

“And they were heading here, toward the park?” I asked.

There were nods of affirmation.

“I help you find them,” Ellen said. She started off, picking her way between the bundles of possessions and sleeping people across the dell. Every now and then she stopped to ask someone. At last a woman pointed, nodding.

“She says a girl wearing such a tunic played with her daughter last night. They played where there is a waterfall by the trees.”

We hurried toward that spot and sure enough, an elderly man, with a very long mustache, was tending a campfire. Ellen went up to him. He had set up a lean-to of sorts from rugs draped over boxes. He called into this and a woman emerged, her eyes still bleary with sleep. She looked alarmed at seeing us. Ellen asked the question. The woman looked at us nervously, and then blurted something out.

“She says she was going to hand the child over to the soldiers so they could put him safely with the other orphans but then his mother came and claimed him.”

Twenty-eight

Disappointment flooded over me. Then it couldn’t have been my son after all. My boy, my beloved Liam, was still missing or dead. Probably the latter if Li Na was dead too.

“What did this child look like?” Daniel wasn’t giving up so easily.

The woman still looked scared and embarrassed. She muttered to Ellen, who turned back to Daniel. “She says the boy had dark curls, like yours. And he was chubby and healthy looking and he had a loud voice when he cried.”

Daniel looked at me, anger blazing in his eyes. “That’s our boy, Molly. Someone has stolen our boy.” He turned back to the Chinese woman. “What did this woman look like? Where were you when she took the boy from you?”

The woman was clearly frightened now. “She says she’s very sorry,” Ellen translated. “She thought she was doing the right thing. Was this woman not his mother?”

“Almost definitely not,” Daniel snapped.

“What did she look like?” I repeated. My heart was beating so violently now that it felt like a frightened bird imprisoned in my chest. “And where was this? Do you know where she was camping?”

More words were exchanged. Ellen turned to us. “It was on the strip they call the Panhandle,” she said. “On our way to this place. The woman was big. Not young. She wore black silk and she had pearls around her neck. A rich woman.”

“Will you come with us to help identify her?” Daniel asked.

The woman looked down at the ground, ashamed and mumbling a reply.

“She says she cannot walk so far. She has the lotus feet. Walking is impossible for her,” Ellen translated, giving the woman a look of scorn. Her own feet were big and broad. In China she would have been the despised one, but here in the new world lotus feet were not a blessing or a mark of status.

“I understand.” I nodded to the woman. “Thank you.”

“Wait,” she called after us in English as we were ready to go. “I send my daughter.” She shouted into the lean-to and the girl in the red and white tunic emerged. She stared at us with frightened eyes and when questioned she answered in little more than a whisper, looking down at the ground. Ellen questioned her and yes, she had seen the woman take the child. And she would help us to find him.

“Perhaps they misunderstood,” I said as Daniel, Ellen, and I hurried along a soft bridle path toward the Panhandle. “Perhaps she meant that she would find his mother for them.”

“Who knows?” Daniel’s mouth was set in a grim line. “What better time to help yourself to a baby than when the world is in chaos.”

I wished he hadn’t said that. I now felt violently sick, as if I would throw up at any minute and I couldn’t tell whether it was because of my head wound or because of my terror. I stumbled forward, finding every step painful now but not daring to stop. We came out of the trees and saw that the park had come to an end but a narrow strip of green continued toward the city between two roads. So this was the Panhandle. It was now covered in tents. Smoke rose from cooking fires to mingle with the smoky haze that hung in the air, making our eyes sting. And when we looked beyond, toward the city, the sky was still a black pall.

The little Chinese girl, whose name, we had learned, was Mei Ling, went ahead of us, like a dog following a scent. She peered among the tents until finally she stopped abruptly and pointed, whispering something to Ellen.

“She says that is the woman,” Ellen said.

We looked where she was pointing. A large woman in black had come out of a tent. She wore a tortoiseshell comb in her hair and pearls around her neck. She wasn’t young, in her thirties, or even forties, and her sallow complexion hinted at Mediterranean ancestry—Italian maybe? Or Mexican or even Jewish.

“Let me handle this,” Daniel said, holding up a warning hand to me. He strode forward with that confident stride of his.

“Good morning, ma’am,” he said. “Captain Sullivan, police. I understand you were good enough to rescue a baby boy from some Chinese people. Did you take him straight to the place where they are holding rescued orphans or do you still have him with you?”

“You must have the wrong person,” she replied, staring haughtily at Daniel. “I don’t know who told you that, but they were wrong.”

“So you don’t have a baby boy with you? You’ve never rescued a toddler?”

“No,” she said defiantly. “No. Never.”

As if to dispute this a wail came from inside the tent.

“My own son,” she said. “Not the boy you’re looking for.”

“Can we see him?”

“Certainly not. That tent is my private property. If you go near it, that’s trespassing and my husband will shoot you.”

By now people had gathered around us.

“What’s happening?” someone asked.

“This woman won’t let us see whether the child she has in her tent is mine,” I said. “She threatened to shoot us. I think she might have my little boy in there. I just want to look.”

“I’ve told them it’s my own son,” she said. “Why do they try to stir up trouble? Don’t we all have enough troubles?”

There were murmurs from the crowd. From inside the tent came a plaintive cry of “Mama!”

“You see. He hears me and he wants me,” she said. “I must go to him, if you’ll excuse me.”

She headed for the closed tent flap. I went to follow her and she spun around. “If you don’t go away I’ll call the police,” she said. “I’ve heard about people like you, trying to steal babies. I’m a respected person in this community. The mayor and police chief are good friends. Do you want me to summon them?”