Bless the Bride by Rhys Bowen Page B

didn’t like to say that my employer wasn’t the Lord but a rich Chinese gentleman. “So you haven’t seen a young woman like this? She didn’t come to you?” I held out the picture.
    She shook her head. “And it’s a great pity that she didn’t. I would have given her sanctuary. If she spoke English I might even have managed to find her a position as a servant safely far from the city. I’ve done that for girls before, you know—if they have not descended too far into a life of vice. I have to be careful whom I send to wholesome Christian families. One can’t risk a corrupting influence.”
    “So if she didn’t come to you, where do you think she might have gone?” I asked.
    “I rather fear the worst, my dear. One has only to walk a few yards from here to the Bowery where every second establishment is a house of ill repute.” She looked up as one of the little half-caste girls called out, “All done, Missie Clark.”
    “Nicely done, Elsie. We’ll make a fine Christian of you yet,” Miss Clark said, patting the child on her shining black hair.
    She turned back to me. “You see how much we can do if we catch them early enough. Of course these girls do have the benefit of Irish mothers who have been raised as Christians so it is not such an uphill battle to claim them for the Lord and keep them from the sins of the flesh. Sometimes I despair for the full-blooded Chinese, though. It’s a struggle to make them turn from their heathen ways. Even those who profess to be Christians still worship idols in secret. But one does what one can.” She patted the child again. “Run along now and wash your hands and then we’ll work on your letters some more. You too, Alice.”
    “Thank you for your time,” I said and went to take my leave.
    “If you’ll write down your address for me, Miss Murphy, I will keep my eyes open. I try to rescue girls from degradation whenever I can, so who knows? Maybe I will hear of your girl.”
    I considered Miss Clark and her evangelizing as I made my way down the stairs to the street. Having witnessed the sordid establishments on the Bowery, I found it hard to believe that the Chinese were more prone to vice than their Western neighbors. But one of Miss Clark’s sentences stuck in my mind: “If they have not descended too far into a life of vice.” Those words immediately conjured up what I had witnessed on the Bowery—those girls lounging in provocative poses on stoops while nattily dressed men lurked nearby. It was all too possible that if little Bo Kei had not been picked up by the police, she might have been nabbed by a pimp. I saw how easily she could have been incited into one of those brothels—a young girl who knew nothing of the city and of Western ways. “Don’t worry, my dear, we’ll take good care of you and hide you from that Chinese monster.” And then she’d be trapped.
    I can tell you I wasn’t anxious to make the rounds of the brothels, asking questions. I was all too likely to wind up kidnapped and trapped inside one myself, if the stories one heard were true. That’s when I remembered that I might have an ally who could help me. My friend Mrs. Goodwin was a police matron who had now been turned into a female detective like myself. Only she was working officially on undercover assignments for the police. So in order to find her or leave a message for her I’d either have to go all the way back to Tompkins Square where she lived, or to police headquarters on Mulberry. Since the latter was also where Daniel worked, I wasn’t in a hurry to do that. So I decided to try all other avenues first, and if I came up with no leads, then I’d visit Mrs. Goodwin’s house on my way home.
    I went back to my first plan, which was visiting all the missions around Chinatown. This proved to be fruitless. Some were only open on Sundays. The ones that were open were little more than church halls that ran Sunday worship, nightly language classes, Bible study, and