Bless the Bride

the missing possession,” he said. “Open it.”
    I opened the folder. It was a photo frame in red leather. And inside was a portrait of a young Chinese girl. She was dressed in what looked like a padded silk jacket with bone buttons and a little round collar. Her hair was pulled back into a thick braid that was draped over one shoulder. I looked for any kind of jewel or adornment she might be wearing but could see none.
    “I’m afraid I don’t see the article you are referring to.”
    He jabbed the glass of the photo frame with his long fingernail. “Bo Kei. My new bride,” he said. “My bride is missing.”
    “A person? The valuable possession you’re referring to is a person?” He must have picked up the shock in my voice.
    “A most valuable possession, Miss Murphy. She cost me a lot of money. I had her brought over from China only a month ago. As you know, your government makes it impossible for Chinamen to bring their women into this country, so I paid a high price to have her brought here by devious routes. I paid her father a high bride price too.”
    “You bought a woman?” I was still staring at the young fresh face looking shyly at the camera.
    “That is the way in my country. We have no foolish notions of falling in love, as you people in America do. Marriage is a business proposition. Each side must benefit. I am no longer young, Miss Murphy. I need a son before I die—so I bring in strong new blood from my own part of China. And now she is gone.”
    “So what do you think has happened to her?” I was still shocked and fighting to keep my composure.
    “I wish I knew,” he said. “I am most worried. Maybe an enemy has kidnapped her, or she has run away. In either case I want her returned to me immediately, together with the jade bride-piece that was given to her.”
    “You say an enemy may have kidnapped her. Do you know that you have enemies who might do something as bad as this?”
    “Any rich and powerful man has enemies, Miss Murphy. And in my case I am closely aligned with the On Leong tong. Maybe you have not heard of this, but we have been at war with Hip Sing.”
    “Frederick Lee told me about this,” I said.
    He pursed his lips. “There has been a truce in recent times, but this peace is fragile and who knows if it will last forever.”
    “Would stealing your bride break this truce?”
    “Naturally. If someone wants to hurt me, to embarrass me, to make me lose face, what better way than to steal my bride? We of the On Leong would want justice and revenge and so the bloodshed would start again.” He paused. I couldn’t think what to say next, but he added. “On the other hand, she could have run away.”
    ”Do you have any idea why she might have run away?” I asked, thinking that it would have taken something really horrible to make being alone in a strange city like New York seem preferable to remaining in a pampered life amid such rich surroundings.
    He frowned as if he considered this question impudent. “Of course I have no idea,” he snapped. “She would have a good life here. She was treated well. She had clothes. Good food. Any sensible young woman would be proud to become wife of a rich and powerful man.”
    But old, I thought. And she looked so young in that picture. Maybe having intimate relations with an old man like him was too big a shock for her. Maybe he demanded too much of her too soon.
    “Mr. Lee,” I began cautiously, “I have visited you twice now. It is not very easy to get into your residence. How and when do you think she was kidnapped or escaped?”
    “This is what I ask myself. As you see, I keep my door locked at all times. It is a long way down from my balcony. I have a houseboy. I have a cook. I have employees working in my emporium next door. Nobody could enter or leave this place without being seen.”
    “She didn’t go out and not come back?”
    “Of course not. Chinese woman does not go out unescorted. In China she would travel in closed litter. Here in New York she does not leave her dwelling. It is not correct and it is not safe.”
    I took another deep breath, realizing how easy it would be to offend him. “And would it have been possible for her to escape at night? What I mean is, did she share a bed with you?”
    He looked indignant and pursed his lips. “When I want her, she is brought to my bed. When I am done, she is dismissed. But houseboy, he sleeps on mat in front of screen. Like guard dog for house. Who could