Noble House

The amah found her voice and began to bluster, "What do you want with me, Honorable Policeman? I've done nothing, I'm not an illegal, I've papers since last year. I've done nothing, I'm a law-abiding civilized person who's worked all her li—"
"Where's your room?"
The younger woman pointed. "There," she said in her screeching, irritating voice, "where else would her room be? Of course it's there off the kitchen! Are these foreign devils senseless? Where else do maids live? And you, you old maggot! Getting honest people into trouble! What's she done? If it's stolen vegetables it's nothing to do with me!"
"Quiet or we shall take you to our headquarters and surely the judge will want you kept in custody! Quiet!"
The woman started to curse but bit it back.
Armstrong said, "Now, what . . ." Then he noticed that several curious Chinese were peering into the room from the landing. He stared back, took a sudden pace toward them. They vanished. He closed the door, hiding his amusement. "Now, ask both of them what they know about the Werewolves."
The woman gaped at Wu. Ah Tarn went a little grayer. "Eh, me? Werewolves? Nothing! Why should I know about those foul kidnappers. What have they to do with me? Nothing nothing at all!"
"What about you, Ah Tarn?"
"Me? Nothing at all," she said querulously, "I'm a respectable amah who does her work and nothing else!"
Wu translated their answers. Both men noticed that his translation was accurate, fast and easy. Both were patient and they continued to play the game they had played so many times before. "Tell her she'd better tell the truth quickly." Armstrong glowered down at her. He bore her no ill feeling; neither did Smyth. They just wanted the truth. The truth might lead to the identity of the Werewolves and the sooner those villains were hung for murder the easier it would be to control Hong Kong and the sooner law-abiding citizens, including themselves, could go about their own business or hobbies—making money or racing or whoring. Yes, Armstrong thought, sorry for the old woman. Twenty dollars to a broken hatpin the shrew knows nothing but Ah Tam knows more than she'll ever tell us.
"I want the truth. Tell her!" he said.
"Truth? What truth, Honorable Lord? How could this poor old body be anyth—"
Armstrong put up his hand dramatically. "Enough!" This was another prearranged signal. At once Spectacles Wu switched to Ning-tok dialect which he knew neither of them understood. "Elder Sister, I suggest you talk quickly and openly. We know everything already!"
Ah Tam gaped at him. She had only two twisted teeth in a lower gum. "Eh, Younger Brother?" she replied in the same dialect, caught off guard. "What do you want with me?" "The truth! I know all about you!"
She peered at him without recognition. "What truth? I've never seen you before in my life!"
"Don't you remember me? In the poultry market? You helped me buy a chicken and then we had tea. Yesterday. Don't you remember? You told me about the Werewolves, how they were going to give you a huge reward . . ."
All three saw the momentary flash behind her eyes. "Werewolves?" she began querulously. "Impossible! It was someone else! You accuse me falsely. Tell the Noble Lords I've never seen y—"
"Quiet you old baggage!" Wu said sharply and cursed her roundly. "You worked for Wu Ting-top and your mistress's name was Fan-ling and she died three years ago and they owned the pharmacy at the crossroads! I know the place well myself!"
"Lies . . . lies . . ."
"She says it's all lies, sir."
"Good. Tell her we'll take her to the station. She'll talk there."
Ah Tam began shaking. "Torture? You'll torture an old woman? Oh oh oh . . ."
"When does this Werewolf come back? This afternoon?"
"Oh oh oh … I don't know … he said he would see me but the thief never came back. I lent him five dollars to get home an—"
"Where was his home?"
"Eh? Who? Oh him, he … he said he was a relation of a relation and … I don't remember. I think he said North Point… I don't remember anything . . ."
Armstrong and Smyth waited and probed and soon it was apparent that the old woman knew little though she ducked and twisted the probing, her lies becoming ever more flowery.
"We'll take her in anyway," Armstrong said.
Smyth nodded. "Can you handle it till I can send a couple of men? I really think I ought to be getting back."
"Certainly. Thanks."
He left. Armstrong told Wu to order the two women to sit down and be silent while he searched. They obeyed, frightened. He went into the kitchen and closed the door. At once Ah Tam pulled at her long ratty queue. "Young Brother," she whispered slyly, knowing her mistress did not understand Ning-tok, "I'm guilty of nothing. I just met that young devil like I met you. I did nothing. People of the same village should stick together, heya? A handsome man like you needs money—for girls or his wife. Are you married, Honorable Younger Brother?"
"No, Elder Sister," Wu said politely, leading her on as he had been told to do.
Armstrong was standing in the doorway of Ah Tarn's tiny bedroom and he wondered for the millionth time why it was that Chinese treated their servants so badly, why servants would work in such miserable and foul conditions, why they would sleep and live and give loyal service for a lifetime in return for a pittance, little respect and no love.
He remembered asking his teacher. The old policeman had said, "I don't know, laddie, but I think it's because they become family. Usually it's a job for life. Usually their own family becomes part also. The servant belongs, and the how chew, the good points of the job are many. It goes without saying all servants cream off a proportion of all housekeeping money, all foods, all drinks, all cleaning materials, all everything, however rich or poor, of course with the employers' full knowledge and approval providing it's kept to the customary level—how else can he pay them so little if they can't make extra on the side?"
Maybe that's the answer, Armstrong thought. It's true that before a Chinese takes a job, any job, he or she will have considered the how chew of the job very carefully indeed, the value of the how chew always being the deciding factor.
The room stank and he tried to close his nose to the smell. Sprays of rainwater were coming through the vent, the sound of the rain still pelting down, the whole wall mildewed and water-stained from a thousand storms. He searched methodically and carefully, all his senses tuned. There was little space to hide anything. The bed and bedding were relatively clean though there were many bedbugs in the corners of the bunk. Nothing under the bed but a chipped and stinking chamber pot and an empty suitcase. A few old bags and a tote bag produced nothing. The chest of drawers contained a few clothes, some cheap jewelry, a poor quality jade bracelet. Hidden under some clothes was an embroidered handbag of much better quality. In it were some old letters. A news cutting. And two photographs.
His heart seemed to stop.
After a moment he went into the better light of the kitchen and peered at the photographs again but he had not been mistaken. He read the news cutting, his mind reeling. There was a date on the cutting and a date on one of the photographs.
In the honeycombed basement of Police Headquarters, Ah Tarn sat on a hard, backless chair in the center of a large soundproofed room that was brightly lit and painted white, white walls and white ceiling and white floors and a single, flush white door that was almost part of the wall. Even the chair was white. She was alone, petrified, and she was talking freely now.
"Now what do you know about the barbarian in the background of the photograph?" Wu's flat, metallic Ning-tok voice asked from a hidden speaker.
"I've told and told and there isn't… I don't know, Lord," she whimpered. "I want to go home…. I've told you, I barely saw the foreign devil… he only visited us this once that I know of, Lord. … I don't remember, it was years ago, oh can I go now I've told you everything, everything. . . ."