C. C. Phillips
C. C. Phillips
Preston went over the railing, dangled an instant, and dropped to the balcony below. In a few seconds he forced the lock on the double doors and stepped into Dominique's chamber. Overhead, he heard the thump of heavy boots as someone crossed the room. He turned to close the French doors but hesitated an instant, hearing a voice call up from below. “He went in the room below you, mister. Is he a robber or something?”
A passerby had witnessed Preston's escape and must have felt compelled to inform Serge or L'Heureux.
The glorious scent of her perfume assailed his nostrils as Diamond dashed across Dominique's outer room. He squeezed through the entrance door and sprinted down the hall where a set of fire stairs gave him access to the main floor. He confused his directions on the double set of steps and emerged in a long hallway with rows of offset doors down either side. Which way to run? A janitor, corn broom in hand, was at the far end, sweeping so slowly Preston wondered if it were his very last job. As Diamond approached, the custodian glanced up. His round face bore a big smile that reminded Preston of Sifu which, in this case, was quite appropriate for the sweeper was Xi-Ping Chiang. He leaned the broom in a corner, then opened and held a nearby door for Preston. “I see you, I see Ravenelle. I come find you,” he announced.
Not much escaped Master Chiang.
Xi-Ping led Diamond down another flight of stairs to a basement and they wound through a maze of pipes for heating distribution then came to a locked metal door. Sifu motioned Preston to pick the lock and they stepped through to a small cemented area at the foot of a wide set of service steps leading up to ground level. Blue sky and sunshine greeted Preston as his head cleared the sides of the stairwell. Sifu hurried Diamond into a small grove of trees and then threaded a passage out onto a well manicured lawn. “They no see you, walk same me.”
Preston interpreted walk same me to mean walk casually. If he tried to stroll in that shuffling gait of Sifu's, he would attract more attention than simply bolting across the common. Together they sauntered through the open and then slipped into the little garden where Preston trained every morning. Xi-Ping slid back the slab and they disappeared through the opening into the tunnels below.
Sifu found and lit the lamp, then sat down on the bottom step. He and Preston exchanged information: Chiang's people were doing double time watching Preston's home because it followed that, if Serge's men knew Adam Forsythe's name, they would soon learn his address and, when they did, Unzer house need brace itself for a rail-car load of hell. The Chinese were expecting a clash with Ravenelle's army at the new opium establishment. Xi-Ping had not been able to fix a tally on Apaches still operating in Washington. Having lost an additional five in the forest skirmish, would Serge bring in more people? Had he already added to his two score regiment? Preston had heard Serge say American recruits; he must have hired locally. Violence had levelled off in Washington over the past couple of months; perhaps Serge believed he had ample troops to maintain his underground supremacy. But Preston would have given odds that, with the recent unexpected loss, more trained fighters would be called in. Sifu did not know what the soldiers had done with the dead men. Preston had not heard Ravenelle and L'Heureux mention anything about recovering the bodies; it would be folly to claim them and the underground French army was neither sentimental nor foolish. It was presumed General Grant would have given them over to local enforcement people. Diamond repeated his discovery that Gabriella had passed information to Serge about the intended flight from Washington. Though he offered no comment, Xi-Ping did not appear surprised to hear this and when Preston expressed concerns for Robert Tessier's wellbeing, Sifu smiled. He said, “Madame Ravenelle no hurt Monsieur Tessier.”
The discussion concluded. Chiang, holding the tiny kerosene lamp in his hand, threaded a route that Preston was only partially familiar with. It seemed the Chinese had burrows under the entire city including the Capitol, the executive mansion and numerous buildings and gardens all over the grounds. The path they followed now ought to be a downgrade though, as far as Preston's eye could determine in the dim light, the floor underfoot ran level. Sounds of machinery, voices, clangs and thuds of above ground or out of tunnel activity came and went as they moved along. At times the air was still and a deep silence hung thick between the brick and mortar passages. Diamond felt they were headed to the centre of the earth. Sifu halted at a T intersection. The smell of fresh earth collided with the dank scent of musty old dirt. Xi-Ping forced a brick to move and the dead end opened into a new excavation. Picks and shovels were leaned against the wall, bushel baskets were stacked to one side. Sifu pointed ahead. “Chinese build new door to President Hotel.”
“Ravenelle's hotel?” Preston asked.
Sifu nodded then held up his closed hand opening first one finger then a second as he said, “One, two days.”
“The tunnel will be completed in one or two days?”
Chiang nodded. “Soon, we go back way.”
They turned around and, after a short walk, Sifu brought them out into the big laundry Preston had visited before. This time among the workers there were several lithe and muscular men that stood out from the regulars. As one, they came forward and bowed to Sifu. He bowed to them and then introduced Preston. The men's expressions showed no emotion and, though he detected no animosity, Diamond could see from their eyes they were appraising him. Either Sifu Chiang or the Chinese people Preston had met earlier must have informed the fighters of the white lad's ability. Preston believed he was no match for these older, seasoned veterans and hoped he would never be tested.
Behind Sifu and Preston, the tunnel door flew open and a Chinese lady scurried into the room. Preston recognized her as Rebecca's new neighbour. Wringing her hands nervously, she spoke to Xi-Ping in Mandarin. Sifu turned to Preston. “Les Apaches. They come Colonel Unzer house.”
Colonel Unzer stood in the stall between his two grays, calmly working a knot out of the near horse's mane when, through the opened door of the stable, he saw three men sauntering down the alley in the direction of his house. He ducked his head and watched closely. The men wore odd shaped gray caps similar to the ones he had seen on the ground near the two dead Frenchmen Robert Tessier had shot yesterday. James Unzer did not believe it a coincidence the men were in his neighbourhood; they were here to avenge their lost comrades or to take Dominique Ravenelle away with them.
Since Preston had brought the injured Tessier to Unzer's house, the colonel wore, or kept near to hand, his army revolver and, as an extra precaution, this morning, the double barrelled shot-gun had been left loaded in the kitchen. He was wearing the six-gun now and his fingers reached down to silently unfasten the flap and loosen the weapon in its sheath. Though one of them cast a curious glance inside the stable door, the strangers passed by without noticing him. Unzer stepped out of the stall and, through a knot hole in the barn wall, followed the progress of the trio. They paused beside the biffy and had a short animated conference that Unzer could not translate. At the distance, his peep hole offered a fairly wide view and across the pickets on the opposite side of the alley, Unzer watched as the pair of Chinese sentries lowered their heads and moved toward the fence. On the street side of the Chinese residence, a door banged closed and the slap-slap of running feet reached Colonel Unzer's ears. The Frenchmen heard the runner too, for they all cocked their heads toward the sound. After a moment they resumed their quiet discussion. Unzer had now lost sight of the Shanghai fighters, they had slipped out of view as they neared the picket fence at the rear of their yard. Unzer wondered why the Frenchmen had not noticed the two Chinese, perhaps, from this angle, they could not see into the yard from the lane as its grade was somewhat lower than Unzer's vantage point.
The thugs were cautious; they moved slowly, deliberately and they appeared to be studying everything within sight and sound. Twenty minutes, half an hour passed, but still they remained in the alley. Maybe they were unsure of the address and needed to confirm that whoever they sought was within. Behind Unzer, the horses dozed in their stall; a black spider eyed him suspiciously from its perch on the edge of a hay dust laden web.
A decision must have been reached for two of the men rounded the side of the Unzer's outhouse and disappeared up the path. Colonel Unzer didn't have much time to take care of the man waiting in the alley and then get to the house to alert Rebecca and Dominique. Wishing Adam was here, he drew the revolver and stepped out of the barn.
The retired colonel was not as spry as he once was but he still moved pretty well. The Frenchman, though watching the progress of his comrades, caught sight or sound of movement behind him and his hand flashed inside his shirt. Before Unzer could aim the gun and squeeze the trigger, two panthers of death cleared the fence, landed silently in the alley beside the killer and immediately disarmed him. More accurately, they broke his arms with a simultaneous pair of roundhouse kicks. Two more blows, blocked from Unzer's view, silenced the man for eternity. One of the Asian sentries turned and signalled to Unzer. Tracing an exaggerated horizontal circle with his finger followed by a couple more strokes of sign language, he indicated that the colonel should go round to the front of the house while they came in from the rear.
Unzer retreated to the far side of the barn, crossed through a neighbour's back yard and emerged one house over from his own. Instead of walking out to the street, he hugged close to the neighbouring residence and drifted past the front of the house to the edge of his own yard. He crept up to his house and paused below the opened kitchen window. Inside he could hear his wife and Dominique Ravenelle chatting. The redolence of fresh baking would have made his mouth water if the circumstances hadn't been so desperate. The window sill was a few inches too high for him to see over so Unzer reached up and lightly tapped the glass with the gun barrel. Rebecca was speaking and though she did not pause, the pitch of her voice changed ever so slightly. The colonel could tell she was moving; the talk faded a fraction of a decibel. Unzer knew his wife had been alerted; now, he did not know what to do next. He wanted to reach the stoop and slip in through the front door but he might walk right into the guns of Les Apaches. He hoped to avoid shooting; too often, stray bullets cause more damage than well aimed shots.
Unzer's deliberation was interrupted by Dominique crying out an unintelligible exclamation in French, then the roar of a gun drowned out all else. The colonel lurched up onto the veranda, grasped the door knob and burst into the room. Smoke filled the kitchen, sounds of a struggle emanated from the parlour. Unzer saw Dominique's prostrate form stretched out on the kitchen floor. As the black powder haze drifted out the window, a bloody pair of boots attached to a bloody pair of legs came into focus half in, half out of the doorway between kitchen and parlour. Standing just beside the fallen Miss Ravenelle, Rebecca fumbled with the breaking action on the smoking double barrelled shotgun. An agonized groan, followed by a disturbing crunch, preceded a prolonged silence in the next room.
Unzer trained the Army Colt on the parlour doorway and inched toward it. One of the Chinese, his hands raised, palms forward, stepped into the opening. Outside, a boot thudded on the veranda and Preston, Colt drawn, eased into the kitchen. The Colonel motioned for the Chinese to lower his hands as Xi-Ping Chiang and the second Chinese knight appeared behind the first.
Rebecca was the first to speak. “Poor child, she's fainted right dead away.”
Xi-Ping snapped something in Mandarin and the Shanghai warriors, heads bowed, slunk out of the house through the back entrance. Preston had not seen Sifu so upset since the night he had fought the thugs below Dominique's window. He knew how the master would view the dilatory arrival of his fighters. Mrs. Unzer should not have had to defend her household; that is why the Chinese had moved in next door.
Rebecca placed the shotgun on the only available space on the flour and bread pan cluttered cupboard then knelt beside Dominique. “Adam, fetch a damp cloth.”
Colonel Unzer's bushy brows were raised as Preston looked at him. “Well, boy, looks like they have found us all.”
Preston studied the shotgun blasted corpse then glanced in the parlour where a second Apache lay dead, his head twisted at a grotesque angle. “These two won't be hunting anyone on this side anymore.”
“Three.” Unzer corrected, “There's another dead one out back.” He nodded toward the door where the Chinese had gone out. “Those two accounted for one out in the alley behind the privy.” To Xi-Ping he said, “If your lads hadn't been here, Mr. Chiang, it'd be our blood and bodies spread around here. We're beholden to you.”
Xi-Ping nodded and smiled faintly but Preston knew he was not to be mollified so easily.
Rebecca soon had Dominique off the floor and seated in one of the kitchen chairs. The Chinese fighters returned with the lady who had been sent to fetch Diamond and Chiang. She went away while the men wiped up the mess and dragged the bodies out, but returned with a scrub pail and began washing the floor and wall that had been in line with the shotgun blast. Rebecca, leaving Dominique in Preston's care, grabbed a second wash cloth and assisted her new neighbour. Sifu had disappeared. Colonel Unzer stood on his veranda and faced a small crowd drawn by the shooting.
How do you explain to a curious group of neighbours and onlookers the sudden appearance of three corpses in your house and garden? The colonel offered a weak explanation for the blast, hoping no one had seen the bodies in the back yard. A news reporter clattered up to the scene in a dogcart drawn by a hard-pushed horse. Unzer was just about out of words when General Grant and a handful of soldiers trotted their mounts down the street and reined in at the front of the colonel and Rebecca's house. Grant's eyes met Unzer's and the absence of words spoke volumes. The Lieutenant General calmly dispersed the crowd and had one of his men escort the more persistent newsman to a safer location. After listening in semi-private to Rebecca and Colonel Unzer's brief account, Ulysses said, “Here I am again, James, interfering in a civil matter. One of the men who rode with us yesterday found out you people were involved in another fracas and he came to me on the double. He didn't tell me there had been another three foreigners killed. James, if you need me and the army to keep you out of trouble, you had best sign up again.” He sighed, “Then I could transfer you to Fort Oregon or somewhere else a long walk from DC.”
In a furor of whistles and shouts, Washington city police, aboard two coaches, rounded a corner a block or two up the street. The teams were straining in the harness, coming at a gallop but, seeing the presence of the bluecoats, the drivers quickly hauled in on the lines and rolled up at a more respectful rate. The belated arrival annoyed Unzer and amused Grant. “I'll leave this in your hands, Colonel Unzer. Keep Adam out of the limelight. Sounds like he missed today's action anyway.”
Unzer had wondered why the police had not been round asking questions about the forest shootings. Now he realized Grant must have withheld names and other pertinent information. Perhaps the bluecoats had only given local constabulary the bodies and a scant accounting of how they were found. People weren't in the habit of pestering Ulysses Grant.
Preston Diamond did not wait to be interviewed by the police. Sifu Chiang had reappeared and now he led Preston and a very pale Dominique out the back, across the alley and into the Chinese house. An older Chinese gentleman and the same lady who had helped clean up the bloody mess in Rebecca's kitchen served tea and a selection of sweet crunchy biscuits while they waited for the investigation to clear at the Unzer's home. Sifu stated that Ravenelle may come back with more men in the night. It would be best to move everyone out of the house for it would likely be a less subtle attack next time.
Colonel Unzer was in a foul mood when Preston returned home. The police had been quite obnoxious in their persistence though, due to the interference by General Grant, they were not comfortable with how to handle the case. Unzer tried to divert them by saying, because the assassins were foreign, this was a United States Army affair. Unzer himself was a colonel in the United States Army (he did not mention that he was retired). General Grant, as they had all witnessed, was here to do his own investigation. Everyone knew that now, two years after the American Civil War, the former Union Army with Ulysses Grant still at the helm, carried more clout in most jurisdictions than any police organization. Unzer had chosen a persuasive tactic that, in the end, at least partially appeased the constabulary. For the time being, they carried away the bodies and left Unzer in a stew.
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