“That’s what I mean. Really, the Emperor should forbid rockets.”
“Celebrating the monk Li Tian and his invention of today’s fireworks shouldn’t be discouraged,” Lu said. “It’s important to our people. The noise chases away ghosts and all that is evil, and the smoke cleanses everything. Together they bring peace, health and happiness.”
After another round of sound and light pulsated through the courtyard, Lu sat back and added, “I only hope we don’t have any fires with all this celebrating. I told the city security units to be prepared…”
“Sir,” a voice called out. Ma, Lu’s guard, strode into the lantern’s light. “The city headman is here.”
“Send him in,” Lu said.
An elderly man with a sparse beard shuffled into the room. The city headman was an elder in the community and oversaw much of the city’s day-to-day activities. When problems arose, he solved them; or, if the problems were serious, he brought them to the magistrate.
Once the elder had successfully ambled up to Lu’s table, he stopped, bowed, and said, “Your Honor, I have unfortunate news to relate.” He paused. “The Liu brothers from Hunan Province have a shop on Xiao Di Road. An apparently successful shop.”
“And, so, what’s the problem?” Lu asked.
“There has been an accident. Most inauspicious. Especially today. Most inauspicious.”
“Yes?”
“I have to report that this morning, when the Liu brothers were setting off fireworks, something went amiss, a rocket exploded, instantly killing the elder brother, Liu Shih-kuei.” He finished with his words tumbling over each other as though even speaking them would heighten the evil of such a death.
*
Lu, and his entourage of Fu-hao as court secretary, and Ma Jie and Zhang Chieng, his personal guards, rode through the tumultuous streets to the Liu brothers’ shop. The ferocity of firecrackers erupted all along their route. Smoke enveloped them, cutting off their air, making it hard to breathe and stinging their eyes. Children ran laughing from one cascading pandemonium to the next. Lu worked to sooth his fearful horse as it tried to escape the gauntlet of noise.
In spite of the bedlam, Lu’s mind never veered far from the scene he feared would greet them—a body mutilated by a rocket. His stomach churned and bile rose in his throat. He tightened the horse’s reins.
Soon they arrived at a weathered building with a multilayered tree of spent firecrackers leaning against its wall. A clerk appeared, solemnly welcomed them, and led them into a dim back room. As Lu’s eyes adjusted, he saw a beefy, sun-burned fellow lounging under the only window. Another—a thin, young man, sitting immobilized behind a tall desk—rested his hand on an abacus near a closed ledger. As Lu entered, the man looked up with eyes as hollow as empty wine cups. He appeared to be in shock. Nevertheless, when Lu approached—wearing his official robes with its large, square, magistrate’s badge of office emblazoned on it—the young man jumped up, rounded the desk, and bowed deeply.
“Your Honor,” he said and stopped, as if at a loss for words. His eyes flitted toward the window and back to the judge.
Lu glanced out the window. The early morning sun cast a long shadow over a narrow courtyard. Two lone potted trees marked the far corners.
A clerk brought a chair for the magistrate. Fu-hao took over the desk, preparing to record the interview for the court’s report. Ma and Zhang stood at the door.
Shih-hua first introduced the other visitor as Ying Ren, a member of the Hunan Province’s Merchant Association, there to help organize the burial details. Then, Shih-hua recounted the morning’s drama, his voice low and deferential.
“My brother and I arrived at the shop well before daylight. We wanted to set off the fireworks exactly at sunrise. He thought that would be the most propitious time for our business. He’d recently returned from our hometown and brought back the most amazing fireworks display, and even a rocket. I wasn’t sure about the rocket’s safety. But it’s what he wanted. He’d bought it at a very good price.” Shih-hua linked his hands in front of him, sighing. “He was quite delighted with it.”
“You didn’t think it was too dangerous for him to ignite the rocket himself?”
Shih-hua shrugged and repeated. “It’s what he wanted. He’s my older brother; he decides—decided—what we should do.”
Lu nodded. Of course, that was what tradition dictated, although he knew plenty of families where it was the more capable, not the oldest, who made decisions. Nevertheless, he said, “I see. Go on.”
Shih-hua took a deep breath. “The clerks and I went into the street to light the firecrackers.”
“Both clerks went with you? Your brother was alone?”
“The fireworks display was massive. I needed both men to help. Shih-kuei didn’t need anyone; he only had one rocket.
“As I set off the fireworks I heard an explosion from inside. We rushed back, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rocket’s fire and light.” He frowned. “Too late, of course. I didn’t realize how quickly it was over.”
“And that’s when you found him?”
“My brother lay on the ground, blood everywhere. The rocket was defective and exploded.” Shih-hua covered his face with his hands. Recovering, he added, “I immediately sent one of the clerks to the city headman to report the accident.”
Lu glanced at the large man near the window. “And you alerted the Hunan Merchant Association?”
Shih-hua nodded. “They handle the burial plans.”
Nothing new there. Most merchants belonged to their home area associations, which provided both practical benefits and a ready pool of friendship when a man found himself living far from home.
“Why did your brother go home?” Lu asked.
“He went to celebrate his second son’s one-year birthday. I stayed here because we couldn’t afford to close the shop.”
“How long was he gone?”
“Three months.”
“Isn’t that a long time?”
“I was here, he didn’t have to hurry. I could take care of the shop, and he wanted to spend time with his wife and children.”
“Are you married?” Lu asked.
Shih-hua clasped his hands together and said, “I have a wife but no children as yet. She lives with my parents and cares for them.”
“Where does your older brother’s family live?”
“With my parents.” Shih-hua looked him straight in the eyes. “We are a strong family. We live together and work together. As is proper,” he finished.
He examined the young man before him. The large family—consisting of married brothers, their wives, and children living together with the elderly parents in one household—was the ideal. However, real life pressures of equitable sharing of responsibilities and resources, not to mention the clash of personalities, often made such an arrangement difficult to impossible. He wondered how close the Liu family actually fit the ideal.
“You can be commended on your family’s virtue,” Lu said.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Shih-hua said, head down, hands clasped in a white knuckled grip.
*
Out under the courtyard’s veranda, a covered body lay on a slab of wood. Blood splatters told Lu where he died. A table and chairs for the judge and his secretary had been set up on the surrounding wooden porch, outside the bloodied area. After Fu-hao had arranged his writing implements and taken a seat, Lu approached the body and turned back the cloth. As he feared, the body was badly burned with multiple injuries.
Ma removed the corpse’s tattered clothing. Taking a knife, Lu paused, took a deep breath, and proceeded. He dug into several of the wounds and extracted iron pellets and broken pieces of porcelain. Stretching, he studied the courtyard’s walls and porch columns. He walked to the area closest to where the rocket was detonated. A pattern of small holes spread across the wall. Again, using his knife he dug into the wood and removed more iron balls and bits of porcelain.
Standing with hands b
ehind his back, he looked over the enclosed bare patch of dirt. He reconstructed the early morning scene: Shih-kuei alone when he set off the rocket; the others out front, preparing the firecracker display.
Running his fingers over the holes in the wall and posts, he noted their pattern.
“This was no celebratory rocket,” he said to Fu-hao. “It was a bomb, disguised as a rocket and designed to mutilate and kill. It came from a military arsenal.”
Fu-hao paused, his brush resting on the inkstone. “How could a merchant get such a thing?”
Lu slowly made his way around the veranda looking for areas where the bomb’s contents had struck. He stopped at the table, silent, lost in thought.
“We’ll need to interrogate everyone,” Lu said. “Ma, bring the clerk who attended Liu Shih-kuei on his trip to Hunan.”
Lu settled in the chair on the veranda near Fu-hao, facing out into the courtyard’s neglected space.
A shaken, middle-aged man entered and stood on the bare ground below Lu. He bowed.
“I am Clerk Hao, and have been serving the Liu family for more than twenty years. I started under their father, Master Liu, and later worked for his sons when Master Liu retired.”
“Have you always worked here in the city of Pu-an, in Jiangxi Province, or did you work in a city in Hunan Province?”
“When I clerked under Master Liu he had a shop in Pu-an but not here,” his lips turned down. “Master Liu had a large building on the main road. His sons had to move to this small shop on Xiao Di Road last year.”
“Was there a problem with the business?” Lu asked.
The clerk nodded. “The brothers had to move or close their business entirely.”
“What happened? Our town is prosperous and the original shop was in a good area. What caused their business to have such bad luck?”
The clerk shuffled from one foot to another, then said, “The oldest son, Shih-kuei ran the business. Unfortunately, he had many debts and spent most of their profits.” He again shifted his weight and glanced away.
“How?” Lu asked.
“Shih-kuei had expensive habits. He caroused and was well known at the brothels. He was rarely here. Shih-hua takes care of the everyday business, but it’s like a minnow swimming upstream.”
Lu continued, “Do you know where Shih-kuei bought the rocket?”
“No. I didn’t know he had one. He bought a large firecracker display, but I don’t know about the rocket. I thought they made him nervous. But…maybe he wanted extra good luck for their business this year.”
Bad choice, Lu thought.
After the clerk left, Lu ordered Ma to bring in the second clerk.
A boy just reaching his manhood stepped into the courtyard. His round face had little color and his eyes darted around and finally halted at Lu’s chest, fixating on the brilliantly colored magistrate’s badge. He bowed low and deep.
“I am Clerk Tsai from Jiangxi Province. I began apprenticing for the Liu family five months ago. This morning we started setting up to celebrate Li Tian well before daybreak.”
“When did you come in?”
“I sleep at the shop, so I was here when the Liu brothers arrived.”
“What do you know about the fireworks?”
“When Master Shih-kuei returned from Hunan they stored the firecracker display in a room behind the courtyard. I never saw the rocket until today.”
“Who brought the rocket in and set it up?”
The young man closed his eyes as if seeing the morning’s events. “Master Ying brought in a large box yesterday. Master Shih-hua and he went into the back room. I heard them opening the box. I didn’t hear what they said because their voices were too soft.”
“Was Shih-kuei with them?”
“Master Shih-kuei was out.” He cast a quick glance at the door to the shop. “He was at a wine shop yesterday and didn’t return until this morning.” He stopped and bit his lip as if reviewing a play. “I didn’t think he would ignite the rocket, because when he found out about it this morning, he wasn’t happy.”
“Wasn’t happy?” asked Lu.
Tsai nodded. “Master Shih-hua said they had to set it off, to improve business. They needed all the good luck they could get. There was an argument over who would ignite it. Shih-hua insisted Shih-kuei had to ignite the rocket since he was the older brother; it wouldn’t be as auspicious if a younger brother did it. Eventually, Shih-kuei agreed.
“And now he’s dead,” the young clerk finished in a barely audible tone. “Bad luck.”
When the boy left, Judge Lu ordered Master Ying enter for questioning.
The burly man strode into the courtyard and bowed quickly to the judge. Hard eyes looked out of a face with an intersecting set of scars on his left cheek.
“I am Ying Ren of the Hunan Province’s Merchant Association. I came to the city looking for a job. I’m from Hunan but had traveled some before coming here.”
“Where did you live before coming to Pu-an?” Lu asked.
Ying licked his lips. “I lived in Shaanxi Province for a few years. Another association member, who had also lived in Shaanxi, offered me work as the association’s security guard.
“I’m acquainted with the Liu brothers through our group, that’s all.”
“Why are you here, at the shop?” Lu asked.
“Liu Shih-hua sent a message to the hall and I came to fulfill the Association’s responsibilities in assisting in the funeral rites. It’s the first time I’ve been to their shop.”
Lu leaned forward and demanded, “What about yesterday?”
Ying’s face twitched. He said, “I was here yesterday. I forgot. It wasn’t important. I delivered a box to the shop.”
“What was in the box?”
“I don’t know. I simply delivered it.”
“Don’t lie to the court,” Lu thundered. “You were here and opened the box. If you don’t tell me now, I have ways to learn the truth.”
Ying stared at the judge, then spat on the ground. Ma lurched forward, his staff readied to slam into Ying. Lu instantly raised a hand to stop his guard. Ma halted mid-step.
“Speak!” Lu ordered.
“I brought a box to Liu Shih-hua yesterday,” he began sullenly. “Someone, I don’t know who, left it at the Association’s hall with a note to deliver it to the Liu shop. I didn’t know what was in it until Shih-hua opened the box. It was a rocket. That wasn’t a surprise. A lot of people are setting off rockets today. I didn’t think anything of it.”
As if to corroborate his story, the courtyard throbbed with another round of sharp bursts. Lu ignored them.
“Tell the court about your military experience.”
At this, Ying started, eyes wide. “How did… Alright. Yes, I had a small problem with the law and was sentenced to military duty for six years, stationed on the Shaanxi border.”
“And that’s where you had access to rockets and bombs.”
Ying began to spit again, glanced at Ma with his staff, and swallowed. “I did my time and came back to Hunan, but people don’t forget the past. I eventually came to Pu-an and settled here. Except for the fellow I told you about, no one knew about my military experience.”
“Except Shih-hua,” Lu said.
“Except Shih-hua. Shih-hua married my sister. She carelessly told him about me one day. No one wants an ex-convict in the family, so Shih-hua never told anyone. But he remembered,” Ying added bitterly.
“You sold the bomb to Shih-hua,” Lu stated.
“It’s my bad fate.”
Lu ordered Ma to bind Ying’s hands and Zhang to arrest Liu Shih-hua for his older brother’s murder.
*
Back in the yamen’s office, Lu sat drinking tea with Fu-hao, Ma, and Zhang.
“How did you know Ying had been in the military?” Fu-hao asked.
“He said he was from Hunan but had lived in Shaanxi Province. He’s not a merchant. Therefore, what would take him to such a remote area? The Emperor ha
s a large army stationed along the border to protect the country from the Mongols. Many of those soldiers are criminals serving out their sentences. It was a reasonable deduction.” Lu took a sip of his tea.
“Ah,” Ma said, “then the connection with the bomb became obvious.” He smacked his lips.
Fu-hao’s face tightened and he shot an irritated glance at Ma. Lu hid a grin. He knew his brother felt Ma and Zhang took too many liberties.
“But why did Shih-hua do it? Why kill his older brother?” Zhang asked.
“That’s the saddest part of all. With their father retired and sick, the older brother had all the power and authority of running the family and their business. He was destroying the family.”
“Making killing Shih-kuei seem the only solution,” Zhang said.
“But an older brother,” Fu-hao lamented. “That’s a crime against nature.”
Lu glanced at his younger brother, his confidant and court secretary, and counted his blessings.
The Bag Lady
Laurie Stevens
I needed the Orange County Line, but for the life of me, I could not work the stupid kiosk that dispensed the tickets. Taking a deep breath, I stepped away from the ticket vending machine. If I didn’t, I might smack it with my hand. Although Union Station in downtown Los Angeles was filled with people, I felt utterly alone and helpless.
I had to board the 5:00 pm for San Clemente and it was already 4:45.
“Just pick a number and the routes will come up,” I heard a voice behind me say.
I turned around to see an older woman standing a few feet away from me. From the ragged looks of her, I could tell she was a street person, a bag lady.
“If you click on a number,” she told me, “it will tell you the route. Then you can pick the one you want.”
I mumbled thanks and turned back to the machine.
The woman was right. I pressed a number, picked my route, and paid. Lo and behold, I watched the ticket drop into my hand.
The woman smiled. Her teeth had brown and yellow stains on them. “It’s Track Four. Just follow me. I’m heading there myself.”
Flash and Bang Page 3
