Murder Wears a Hidden Face by Rosemary Simpson

Author:Rosemary Simpson [Simpson, Rosemary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2023-09-06T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

“You don’t look like a minister’s wife,” Geoffrey told Prudence as they strolled down Mott Street toward Pell.

“What does that mean?”

“Alfred Hanrahan was fooling himself if he thought anyone in Chinatown would mistake us for Christian missionaries.”

“He’s hiding something, Geoffrey.”

“Nothing and no one in this case is straightforward.”

“It’s something personal.”

“What makes you assume that?”

Prudence stopped for a moment to peer into the interior of a narrow shop whose walls were lined with labeled wooden drawers and shelves holding clear glass jars filled with dried herbs. Barrels of twisted ginger roots, dark red pepper pods, and salted seahorses were lined up along the counter. The smell was rich, earthy, and pungent.

“Doesn’t it strike you as odd that he requested the Sixth Precinct?” she asked, smiling and bowing toward the dim figure at the rear of the shop as she backed away from the door.

“Hanrahan is an Irish name. Maybe he has family ties in the area around Five Points.”

“The entire New York Police Department is Irish and Catholic,” Prudence reminded him. “Respectable immigrants move out of the tenements as soon as they can afford to live somewhere else. It’s not that.”

“All Lowry said was that Hanrahan owed him a favor. He didn’t specify why or what it was.”

“He’s dark for an Irishman.”

“Black Irish,” Geoffrey said. “Mostly from the western counties. Supposedly the offspring of generations of Spanish traders working the Atlantic coast. Or so I’ve read.”

“It’s something else,” Prudence argued.

“You’re seeing complications where there aren’t any. We have hurdles enough to overcome without looking for more.”

“I don’t feel as though we’re in control,” she continued. “Maybe that’s why I’m so jumpy.” She stopped in front of another shop. “I think I’ll buy a small buddha for Josiah to put on his desk.”

“He won’t thank you for it.”

“That’s the point.”

They made the turn onto Pell, intending to stroll past Wei Fu Jian’s building without stopping. Keeping their distance on the other side of the street. One of Wei’s men would recognize Prudence and report her presence. If Wei or Johnny had information to pass on, someone would come to the shop door and beckon them in. If not, they’d continue on to Bowery where Danny Dennis was waiting for them.

It wasn’t until they were almost opposite Wei’s Chinese Imports and Antiquities that they realized the small crowd of men idly smoking and talking on the sidewalk was too concentrated to be coincidental.

“Take my arm, Prudence,” Geoffrey urged. “Something’s wrong over there.”

A moment later the shop door opened to the tinkle of high-pitched chimes.

“Let’s go.”

He stepped off the curb and guided Prudence across the street. The men parted to let them through, then closed behind them. Johnny Peng stood in the shadows of the dimly lit space, beckoning them in.

“What is it?” Prudence asked.

“Not here,” Johnny said. “Outside. In the garden.”

He hurried them along the aisles of the import-export business, through a door opening onto the stairway to the upper floors, out a ground-floor entrance at the back of the building. A

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