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should walk at night. He pulled his hat low over his face to hide his features and gripped the derringer in his coat pocket.
    From taverns, gambling dens and restaurants floated singsong voices and the odors of alien foods. The mysterious Chinese symbols on the signs intrigued him. A small ornate temple in the midst of wooden shacks made a stark contrast between elegant beauty and ugly poverty. Stick-thin beggars wandered the streets along with wealthy businessmen out for an evening’s entertainment in gambling and opium dens and brothels.
    Was sex with Chinese women really as different as some men claimed? What would it be like to stroke silken black hair, feel a petite body beneath his and smell the spicy scent of her foreign breath? He passed Bonnie Dee
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    a squalid row of cribs where a man beckoned patrons to buy the girls in the small barred cells. Alan’s stomach turned at the grunting sounds of sex coming from inside. Treated like animals, these lowest of all prostitutes merely existed until they were worn out and died of some disease. But were these wretched creatures so very different from their well-dressed, perfumed counterparts in the better brothels—a few of which he’d visited from time to time?
    Alan’s momentary burst of lust died away. He walked quickly past the cribs, not wanting to see the fingers poking between the bars as if beseeching help that would never come. They reminded him of other skeletal hands clutching at him when he could give no aid or comfort.
    If he were elected to office, maybe he could do something, begin to make changes, one of which would be to ensure such slavery was eradicated.
    Chinatown had been left to operate by its own laws.
    Tong bosses ruled, and city police avoided the area unless the crime involved a white man. His platform of fairness and justice for all could include making certain the laws really did apply to everyone.
    As he left Chinatown behind, Alan thought of the woman he’d seen on the wharf the other day, the golden splendor of her gown, her glossy hair and the turbulent emotion in her eyes. He wondered what she was doing right now and if she’d found happiness in her new home.

    Chapter Three
    Huiann carefully broke the hunk of bread in half and wrapped the extra piece in one of her handkerchiefs before adding it to the little bundle of food hidden beneath a pile of clothes in her closet. She chewed and swallowed every bite of the rest of the bread even though she wasn’t hungry. She must keep up her strength so she’d be ready to run when her moment came. She’d spent four days in the home of Xie Fuhua, locked in her bedroom—the fine furnishings not concealing the fact that it was merely a cage. In that time Madam Teng had given her lessons on what was expected from a courtesan.
    “You must give the appearance of innocence ripe for the plucking yet exhibit accomplishment at sex.
    Make the man feel that he is a king on this earth and he will come back again and again. He may even bring you gifts,” Madam had informed her yesterday while brushing Huiann’s hair. She looped a coil around each ear, fastening them with golden butterflies.
    Her hands rested on Huiann’s shoulders for a moment as she met her eyes in the looking glass.
    “While the payment for your services goes to your master, the gifts you may keep. One day, when your beauty has faded and your body is no longer tight and pleasing, you will have the money from selling those jewels. If you’ve been an obedient servant, your master might let you live out your days quietly, rather than be banished to the row. There are worse places Bonnie Dee
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    than here where you have a soft bed, good food and pretty clothing.”
    Madam Teng had already explained to her about the unfortunate girls who were penned like animals to serve men’s appetites. It was very likely the fate of most of the women Huiann had seen on the ship. So, if she was a devoted courtesan and followed Fuhua’s dictates,