On Wednesday, he talked to Mr Yee again, who recommended that he should approach the leader of the On Leong Tong, a certain Mr Kwang, who had staying in his house a nineteen-year-old cousin whose entrepreneurial abilities might make him a suitable replacement for Wang-Pu. Although the name, in English, meant ‘Chamber of Tranquil Conscientiousness’, the On Leong Tong was Chinatown’s principal trafficker in slave girls, and Mr Kwang was said to be concerned at the amount of attention his young cousin was lavishing on the merchandise. He might agree to let him go.

Collis and Mr Kwang met on the second-floor balcony of Mr Kwang’s lavish house on Jackson Street, overlooking a private garden of fountains and palms. Brilliantly coloured parrots squawked and chirped in bamboo cages all around them, and as they sat over musky-smelling tea and platefuls of tiny Chinese savouries, girls as pretty and brilliant as the parrots brought them fresh napkins, and sweetmeats, and tobacco.

Mr Kwang must have been all of seventy, but his face was unnaturally smooth, and his hair was still black. He had no teeth at all, but ate his food by pursuing it around his mouth with his tongue. He wore a robe of pure silk and gold thread that must have cost thousands of dollars. A few feet behind him, staying respectfully quiet, sat his young cousin, Kwang Lee, and an alluring half-breed girl in a tight peacock-coloured silk dress. Collis guessed her age at eleven or twelve, even when Mr Kwang told him that she was the finest hummingbird he had ever known. A hummingbird, Wang-Pu had once told him, was a girl who was proficient in oral sex, a fellatrice.

‘Well,’ said Mr Kwang, after they had finished eating, ‘I hear that you seek an assistant at your store.’

‘A buyer, to be more accurate,’ Collis told him. ‘Someone to come down to San Francisco on a regular basis and keep our supplies flowing through.’ He tapped his head with his forefinger. ‘Someone with his head screwed on, who won’t get gypped.’

Mr Kwang nodded and smiled. ‘Kwang Lee is such a fellow. He is not trustworthy when there are girls around, but in every other way he is most hardworking and shrewd. Perhaps a year or two with you and your colleagues in Sacramento might be good for him.’

‘From what Mr Yee told me, he sounds ideal.’

‘You wish to employ him on trial, then?’ asked Mr Kwang.

‘Twenty-five dollars a month, with board and food provided in Sacramento, and all expenses paid when he’s away.’

Without even looking over his shoulder, Mr Kwang said to Kwang Lee, ‘That’s settled, then. You’ll pack your belongings, Kwang Lee, and go to Sacramento with Mr Edmonds when he leaves on Saturday.’

Kwang Lee inclined his head.