Chapter 4
In the dingy, rat-infested basement of a Chinese restaurant a lithe-bodied young tourist from New Orleans sat sobbing on the damp cement floor, her arms clamped around her knees as she rocked on her haunches, the long golden swirls of honey hair hanging about her beautiful face. Her head pounded from the lingering foul smell of the blanket that had been tossed over her head and then-
And then what?
The blue eyed girl lifted her eyes to survey the boxes of Oriental labeled goods piled about the basement's walls. A single naked light bulb burned in the corner and somewhere unseen the crunch of rats rodent teeth nibbled at imported boxes.
Joanne Carlson stifled a sob. Lord, what had happened? The last cogent thought that came to her miasmaed mind was of having a drink in a Chinese restaurant with her husband and then discovering that she had forgotten her purse in their rented Hertz car, had kissed him on the cheek, telling him to watch her drink. Oh yes, she would be okay... the car was parked around the corner. What could happen to her? Be kidnapped and sold into white slavery? Huh? She'd laughed.
Kidnapped in Chinatown! Separated from her husband. God only knew if anyone would ever find her. The cellar had no windows, she realized through blurred eyes. It was her and the rats she thought, shivering with dread and from the pounding ache in her temples from the foul smelling blanket that had blinded her to her fate and carried her away... to where?
Stories of white women being kidnapped to work as white slaves on slow boats to China percolated in her stomach. God, no! Joanne pulled at her hair in tortured, knotted fists and cried until her tears were drained. This could not be...
THIS COULD NOT BE!
In the same section of town, not six blocks away. Jan sat staring into her hot brandy, studying the submerged flecks of whole cloves the way some people study tea leaves. Maybe there was an answer to be found in the bottom of the glass... she didn't know. What did she know, anyway, she wondered sardonically? That she had a supercharged fiancé who wanted a virgin for a wife and a whore in bed...? What role did he expect her to play, anyway? Oh, she had tried her best to play it straight with him and avoid stupid ego games that go into a romance with a hot-blooded lover such as Paul. And where had that honest gotten her? Maybe she shouldn't have sloughed off dear-hearted Roger so fast, she thought, taking another warm sip and feeling the alcohol burn a welcomed path down her pasta-packed gullet, nipped in to a tiny waist.
Jan's sad blue eyes rose to survey the dimly lit single bar lined with three-piece suited businessmen enjoying the tail end of a three martini Friday afternoon lunch that had stretched into after dinner drinks and now a nightcap. Maybe she should start strutting her assets... No... she wasn't the type. Depressed and a bit tipsy, her luscious buttocks slid off the bar stool, the slit of her wool skirt opening onto a tantalizing view of the sleek stockinged leg beneath. A row of cleanly shaven heads turned to gain a peek.
Dammit, they were all the same. Animals! She bitterly snatched up her purse and shot the men an arrogant uptilted-chin frown. Her attitude of disdain could have opened the bar door from the sheer vibration.
The night air bit at her burning cheeks as Jan stood on the street corner unsuccessfully trying to hail a cab. No way would she walk back to her Russian Hill apartment alone at this time of night. In the background the crackle of festivities made her jittery. More tension she didn't need. Couples, staggering arm in arm, managed to snatch the available taxis. The situation was irksome.
"Hello... are you waiting for a cab, too?" Jan spun around to stare into the slow eyes of the most gorgeous Oriental woman she had ever lain eyes on. An air of worldly sophistication haloed about the woman's beautiful smooth-skinned face with its China doll makeup and long black hair that glistened in the neon splashes of orange flickering light shedding all of Broadway in an unholy glow.
"Yes... but not with luck," shrugged Jan, feeling very Victorian in the presence of this ravishing being.
"Where are you headed?"
"Russian Hill..."
"Oh...?" A set of the fullest, pouting, glossy red lips Jan had ever set eyes on formed the exclamation while a set of false eyelashes batted above a pair of intense but calm eyes. "What a coincidence. That's where I live. Perhaps we could save ourselves a little money if we share..."
"But..." Something about this woman's presence was unnerving, was too smooth. "Here's one now... come on..." A tiny hand clamped over Jan's clammy wrist and tugged her to the corner where a battered yellow cab had pulled up to the curb, its Chinese driver looking irked.
Jan threw herself into the cab, hugging the door while the Chinese woman slipped in beside her, the elegant fur coat she wore falling open to expose a well turned set of thighs. Waiting for the woman to give the driver directions, Jan sat taciturnly.
"Where you go?" the clipped accent grumbled from the front seat.
"Ah, hon... where do you live?" That warm hand on her wrist again. "Greenwich... off Taylor."
They were headed toward Russian Hill when Kim leaned over the car seat and mumbled something to the Chinese cab driver in their native tongue. Jan paid no heed, sitting there in her silent corner. She thought she heard the sound of a woman's purse clasp opening and then the shuffle of dollar bills being carefully plucked from a wallet.
At the next corner where the dab driver should have headed straight up Columbus Avenue, the cabbie took an abrupt illegal U-turn and the yellow vehicle nosed down Columbus toward Chinatown.
"I'm sorry...but this isn't the way to Russian Hill!" Jan's blue eyes reddened with alcohol blinked confusedly.
Immediately that lotion-softened hand clamped over Jan's wrist in a fleshy vice. "Don't worry... I forgot something back at the restaurant and I need to pick it up. I'll pay the extra fare."
The cab came to a rocking halt on a Kearny street corner and Kim jumped out of the cab.
"This might take a couple of minutes so why don't you come with and then we'll catch another cab. Perhaps we could have a drink together?"
Well, tomorrow was Saturday and maybe a change of atmosphere and some female companionship was step one in healing a broken heart. Jan complied, unwittingly and regretfully.