A—Yes.
Q—Was there any number or anything written on the door of the corridor?
A—I don’t remember.
Q—Then what happened?
A—Somebody opened the door and said, “Please, come in.” He took my hand as in welcome. He said, “I am glad to see you,” or something like that and in the room was the Chinese tailor I saw on the ship and another man....
Halvorsen remembered sitting with the three Chinese at a small, round table. The room was dimly lit and dingy. One of the men offered him whiskey but he refused and instead asked for a glass of beer. A woman padded into the room and placed a bottle of beer on the table. And then he was aware that a Chinese girl was standing near him. But when he glanced at her, he was blinded momentarily by a flash of light and so startled that he started to rise from his chair.
The wart-eared tailor laughed and said, “Don’t worry. It was only a flash from a camera. We need a photograph to send to our man in San Francisco so he will be able to recognize you when you arrive with the packages.”
One of the Chinese, a short, fat man in shirt sleeves, took a slip of paper from his pocket and scrawled on it the words, “San Francisco.” He tore the paper in half, handing one part to Halvorsen. “You keep this half,” he said, “and we will send the other to our man in San Francisco. When you meet him, you give him your half of the paper and he can match the two halves to make sure you are the right man.”
“Where will I meet him?” Halvorsen asked.
The man wrote on another slip of paper “Lew Gar Kung Saw, 854 Clay Street, San Francisco.” He handed it to Halvorsen and said, “You deliver the packages of heroin to this man at this address. When you make the delivery, he will pay you twelve hundred dollars. Okay?”