Chapter Forty-four
The city of New Orleans was home to the largest Chinatown in the South. The Chinese influx began after the War Between the States when local planters imported hundreds of Cantonese laborers to replace slaves. But by the mid 1870s, the Chinese had abandoned the plantations and most found work in the factories of the business district. However, they also dominated the laundry industry in the city, and it was to one of those establishments that Mr. Chang directed his steps.
Although he’d be suspicious of whites asking questions, the laundry owner readily opened up to Mr. Chang, and told him that Chinatown was located at the end of Tulane Avenue and South Rampart Street.
“Speak to Huang Tian, the moneylender,” the laundryman said. “Stop anyone in the street and you’ll be directed to his office.” Then, a warning. “Be respectful. Huang Tian is a rich man and he has many bodyguards.” And a further caution of just one whispered word. “Triads.”
Mr. Chang was more than familiar with the violent and widespread Triad crime syndicate and knew that when he visited Huang Tian he must be on his guard and give the great man much veneration.
The day was still young, and Mr. Chang walked to Chinatown, ignoring the heat of the day. It took several inquiries and blank stares from other Chinese before a woman directed him to the moneylender’s place of business, a nondescript, single-story building with a brass plaque over the door that read ENTER.
His heart racing, Mr. Chang opened the door and stepped inside into a carpeted reception area that displayed nothing that was Chinese. On the wall behind the male secretary’s desk hung a generic seascape with a sailing ship that was neither inspired nor valuable.
The secretary, young, tough-looking, and dressed in European garb, greeted Mr. Chang with a notable lack of enthusiasm, his eyebrow raised over the visitor’s traditional Chinese robes and pigtail. After a slight adjustment to the shoulder holster under his dark gray suit coat, the young man told Mr. Chang to state his business . . . and he spoke in English, surprising Mr. Chang greatly.
“I am here to talk with the esteemed lord Huang Tian,” Mr. Chang said, bowing,
“On what matter?” the secretary said.
“I wish him to help me save the life of a friend.”
“Many people ask Mr. Huang Tian for help, but most days he has none to give. Do you want to borrow money?”
“No. I do not. I only wish to save a life.”
“I will tell him you are here,” the young man said. “But I doubt that he will see you.”
“I am Triad,” Mr. Chang said. “Or I was.”
“Where?”
“Shanghai. And other places.”
“Show me.”
Mr. Chang pulled up his left sleeve and showed the red dragon tattoo on his forearm and then the phoenix tattoo on his right.
“Once a Triad, always a Triad,” the secretary said “There is no ‘I was,’ only ‘I am.’”
“That was my impression,” Mr. Chang said. “Young man has much understanding of the way of the Triads. It speaks a great volume about the worthiness of his upbringing.”
The young man stared hard at his visitor for long moments and then said, “Wait here. I will talk with Huang Tian and ask if he is willing to meet with you.”
Mr. Chang bowed.
After a couple of minutes, the secretary returned, and his face wore a slightly surprised expression. “Huang Tian will see you.”
The young man quickly patted down Mr. Chang, looking for weapons, and took a small jade figurine from the pocket of his robe. “What is this?” he said.
“A gift for the great lord Huang Tian.”
The man smiled, handed back the figurine, and said, “Follow me.”
Mr. Chang was ushered into an office that would not have been out of place in Washington, D.C. The shelves on the walls held only rows of ledgers and bundled papers, and the rug underfoot was Persian, not Chinese, and incongruously, an 1866 model Yellow Boy Winchester and a holstered Colt hung in a gun rack beside the door. Mr. Chang observed silently that Huang Tian was a careful man.
The moneylender, and extortioner and opium smuggler, was a slender, middle-aged man with an immobile, closed face. He wore a dark business suit and a celluloid collar with a red and black striped tie and round glasses with tortoiseshell rims, and to Mr. Chang’s relief he didn’t in the least look intimidating.
But looks can be deceptive.
Huang Tian’s voice was harsh and authoritative as he said, “We will conduct our business in English, since it is the language of commerce.”
Mr. Chang bowed and said, “It is a great honor that you would meet with a person as worthless as myself.”
“You are a Triad. No Triad is worthless. State your business,” Huang Tian said.
“A gift, lord,” Mr. Chang said. He took the figurine from his pocket, a small, jade dragon of exquisite workmanship and, as etiquette demanded, offered it to Huang Tian with both hands. “This was a gift to me from the Son of Heaven, the Emperor Tezong, and now I present it to you.”
In fact, it was a present to Hannah Huckabee from a minor court official in Peking, but Mr. Chang decided that the importance of his mission called for a certain amount of exaggeration.
Hung Tian, recognized the Chinese court workmanship and took the little jade dragon at face value. But, as was the custom, he refused the gift three times before accepting it. Then he said, “You are a Triad, and you have given me a gift that was touched by an emperor’s hand. Now tell me what I can do for you. If it is within reason, I will grant your request.”
And Mr. Chang told him.
When he was finished speaking, Hung Tian thought for a few moments and said, “The Chinese who work in this city’s business district are invisible because the white Americans do not see them. They never notice how the little yellow people glide here and there, busy with the burdens of the day’s tasks, making no sound, troubling no one. But what they don’t understand is that those same little people are aware, watchful, they see and hear everything and forget nothing.”
Mr. Chang nodded. “Yes, great lord, that is so.”
“If your friend was taken at gunpoint to somewhere in the business district, or any other district, it is almost certain that Chinese eyes saw him. I will make inquiries. Come here at this time tomorrow. Perhaps I will have news for you then.”
“You are most kind, great lord,” Mr. Chang said, bowing.
Huang Tian waved a hand. “Go now.” Then, “If it was not the case that you are a Triad and if you did not have the good breeding to bring me a gift, you would not leave here with a head on your shoulders. Coming here to ask a favor of me was an impertinence.”
“Huang Tian is most merciful,” Mr. Chang said, swallowing hard.
“No, little man. Mercy is a trait I do not possess,” the moneylender said.