The Scent of Death

by Brian K. Lowe

  They stood in a large room, bare but for wooden benches set around the periphery, and hundreds of candles in sconces on the walls and candelabra hanging from the ceiling. Ted noticed that despite the host of candles burning, none of the walls showed evidence of smoke, an inconsistency that bothered him until he noticed a young boy in a simple brown robe standing in one corner, scrupulously scouring the wall clean. He was so quiet and inconspicuous Ted had almost missed him, and he blinked when he realized that other boys were silently scrubbing the stone floors.

  Which did not startle him nearly so much as the man who materialized in front of him.

  "Master Ko," Ted's escort acknowledged softly, bowing.

  Master Ko was no taller than Kate, and looked as though the slightest winter storm would reduce him to ruin. His shaved head crowned a face lined with wrinkles, but they looked less like lines of age than lines of life. The revelation was so awe-inspiring that for a moment he forgot that he would have sworn the little man had not been there when they walked into the room.

  As soundlessly as that, his escort faded away, not even the sound of the closing door betraying his leaving. Master Ko followed Ted's glance at the boys scrubbing the floors, who had never once looked up at the intrusion.

  "Students," the master whispered. "These tasks teach humility and focus. Come, let us not disturb them. I hope we may take tea together. I shall have some taken to the lady outside the gate."

  He led the way to a hallway marked with a series of screened-off antechambers, leaving Ted to wonder how he knew Kate was waiting.

  "These are our meditation chambers."

  Ted glanced up and down the row. "Shouldn't we be whispering? We don't disturb anybody."

  His guide allowed himself a tiny smile. "If you can be disturbed by voices passing by, then you have not achieved the proper focus to meditate." Suddenly his face creased in a frown, and he took the smallest sniff of the air.

  Ted caught it, too. "Smells like flowers. It's very nice. I think it's coming from this meditation chamber over here." He started to move in for a better whiff.

  The priest caught his arm. "No! You must come away at once! Please!" He had a grip like steel, but Ted's instincts were up--something was wrong. The priest underestimated him, and he broke free long enough to lunge forward.

  "What's going on in there?" He pulled the curtain aside. Kuragawa was sitting cross-legged in the center of the room, oblivious to the tumult. Ted knelt beside him while Master Ko tried to pull him away.

  "Please! He is meditating. We must leave!"

  Fighting off the grasping hands, Ted put a finger on Kuragawa's neck, then, reeling in shock, allowed the struggling priest to pull him out of the room. Ted managed at last to come about and face him as Master Ko hustled him down the hallway.

  "That man in there--Captain Kuragawa. He's not meditating--he's dead!"

  It appeared that while waiting for the men to emerge from the temple, ladies in Quanyu were expected to engage in silent meditation of their own, because there were no tools for diversion in the hut. Kate found herself pining for the three-month-old magazines in her doctor's office. Between the cozy chairs, the fire, the heavy wraps available to her, and the boredom, she felt herself becoming drowsy.

  Sitting up, she shed some of her coverings, but felt little stimulated. She was, if anything, warmer than she had been at any time since she left Japan, including in her own chambers in the palace. If Ted found her asleep when he got back, he was sure to rib her about it, and with her luck, she'd be drooling when he walked in. Still, there was nothing else to do, and if she burrowed into the chair deeply enough, she should be able to maintain some semblance of dignity, even asleep.

  She let her eyes fall closed. It was so warm in the little room with the fire, and the soft chairs, and the sweet smell of flowers that she had not noticed before…

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Death on Silent Feet

  Professor Death awoke in Heaven. He was lying on a mattress as soft as air, covered up to his chest by warm blankets, and his head was being bathed with a cool cloth, held, as he saw when his eyelids fluttered open, in the hand of a beautiful Asian goddess of ancient legend.

  She placed a hand on his chest and whispered "Shhh," then disappeared. She obviously did not want him to move, and he had no problem acceding to her instructions. He felt as if he could happily sink into this mattress and dream the entire day away.

  Until he remembered who he was and where he had been and--

  "How the hell did I get here? Wherever here is…"

  He scrambled out of bed, thankful he still had clothes on. The room seemed similar to the one he had been given in the palace, if a bit smaller. He went to the door and opened it slightly. No guards were visible, no one rushed at him and pushed him back into his room. That argued against his being a prisoner, so he decided to go back inside to wait and see where matters stood.

  Almost immediately there was an insistent knocking on his door. Without delaying for permission, it opened.

  "Mr. Gillis! I am so sorry! I did not know it was you!"

  Hano was wringing his hands and bouncing around so much, all T.J. could do was stare at him.

  "Slow down! What are you talking ab--that was you?"

  "Please forgive me. I was exercising on the upper slopes, and when I came down I saw you and the other man watching our house. I did not know who you were, so I snuck up behind you, like an Indian scout, and I put you to sleep. When I saw your face and realized who you were, I brought you here to my father's house immediately."

  T.J. shook his head to clear it. "Okay, okay. So you saw somebody casing the house and you took him down. I understand; I would've done the same thing. But what about the other guy?"

  Hano gave him a wide-eyed look. "That was very strange! By the time I saw who you were, and then went after him--he was gone!"

  "Gone? Wow. That guy's quicker than I thought."

  "Do you know him?"

  "Um, no, but I didn't think anybody was that quick." He brushed back his hair, and realized that Hano was still staring, waiting for an explanation of his presence. "I was following him myself, this morning. But he never turned around and I never saw his face. As near as I could tell, he was just watching the compound, and since he didn't seem dangerous, I just watched him…watching you."

  "Huh. Let me get you something to eat. You have been asleep for an hour. I am so ashamed that I attacked you. If the king finds out, I will be in very much trouble."

  Yeah, you're probably not top of his list right now. "I could use some grub, actually. I didn't get any breakfast."

  "Then let me take you there. I will serve you myself. It is the least I can do--and a demonstration of humility might help appease my father."

  "Oh, your father's here? I'd like to meet him again." I'd like to ask him a few questions about why Sums is watching his house, and why he seems to think you guys have something to hide.

  "A little far from the library, aren't you, sir?"

  Deng Zhongshu jumped higher than a man of his years ever could--or should. Behind him, the secret panel from which he had emerged dutifully closed.

  "Mr. Pierrot!" he gasped, one hand to his chest. "Unless you intend to spend the rest of your time down here talking to my ghost, please do not do that again!"

  "I'm sorry, sir, but I didn't expect to see anyone else down here. I was exploring, and I had just come to the end of the corridor here when I heard that panel opening. Not knowing who it was, I got out of sight."

  "Exploring, eh? I would have thought a young man would prefer the fresh air." He glanced down the hallway. "Although, to be fair, there is some interest here. Note how all of the doors are hinged to swing toward us, but this one--" he indicated the door nearest--"is hinged to swing away from us."

  Damien peered back the way he had come and was surprised to see the old man was right.

  "That's weird," he said. "I wonder why they messed up the last door?"

 
; "They did not," Deng Zhongshu said. "This corridor was originally designed to house the dungeons. Those doors are built to hold people in and be locked from the outside. This door was designed to be locked from this side." He turned to the wall that he had recently walked through. "And I believe I can guess why. Please help me try to find a trigger to open this panel again."

  After several minutes of attempts, Damien leaned up against the wall.

  "I can't find anything. I don't think you're supposed to be able to open it from this side."

  "On that we agree, my young friend. I think--"

  His words were cut off by a booming sound down the corridor. Damien spun about.

  "Somebody's closed one of the doors!" He ran up to it, but it was secured. Even Ted Kane would have failed to move it. "It's locked or barred!" he called back. "Let me see if I have anything I can use on it. I always have some chemicals on me. Maybe some acid?" He rummaged around, glared at what he found, and walked back.

  "I have some things, but nothing that would cut through one of those doors. That wood's like iron, and it's at least two inches thick." He shrugged, looking around at their prison. "We're stuck. Whoever it was must have followed me down here. I'm sorry you got caught up in it. I can't believe I let that guy sneak up on me."

  Deng Zhongshu was examining the wall at the end of the corridor minutely. "I would not berate myself," he said without looking up. "He was trying very hard to be quiet."

  "You knew he was there?"

  "I would have called your attention to him, but he was only one man, and not carrying any weapons."

  "But--but now we're trapped down here!"

  Deng Zhongshu stopped and looked over his shoulder. "My friend, if you would cease berating me, and help me, we will be free in a few minutes. The secret passage with no way back, the door that closes outward… This was meant to be an escape route if the palace was overrun. And no one designs an escape route that leads to a dead end." His fingers, which had been running across the wall, stopped. "This feels promising. Please, press right here."

  Damien did as he was told, and a section of the wall slid backward with a grating, crunching sound, as of a door long closed being forced open. They stared at another short corridor.

  "I hope you're right, because if we go in there and this door closes on us, we're going to run out of air really fast."

  "Bring the torch. There are none inside." Without waiting for an answer, the scholar stepped into the new space and nimbly made his way to the other end. Damien followed nervously, but this time the door behind them stayed put, allaying his fears of suffocation. As he brought the torch to bear, Deng Zhongshu gave a small grunt, pushed against the stone, and a door opened, revealing a gentle slope to a road down below.

  "I thought we were outside of the palace walls," he said. "Please, help me down to the road, and then, while we are walking back, you can tell me why you were exploring Quanyu's five-hundred-year-old dungeons all by yourself, and why someone wanted you to live there permanently."

  Damien hung back. In the flickering light of the torch, something had caught his eye. He leaned down and took hold of the lump on the floor, lifting it to his face.

  It was a set of clothes in the Quanyuan style, and under them a coat. Someone had been using this tunnel recently, and stashed a change of clothing here.

  "Eric, you sneaky dog," Damien muttered under his breath. "That was you that day in the square. But who are you when you're not wearing these clothes, and you're walking around the palace with the rest of us?"

  Chapter Thirty

  Room of Doom

  The temple was in an uproar. Master Ko, finally getting a grip on Ted, had half-dragged him all the way out of the building and into the courtyard, all the while issuing harsh commands and setting everyone in sight, even the lowly students, running around like ants--but ants with a purpose. What that purpose was, Ted was not allowed to see.

  "Master Ko," he managed at last, "back home I'm a policeman. I investigate murders. There is no way to convince me that Captain Kuragawa died of natural causes."

  The master had regained his equanimity, if not his humor. "I respect your outrage, Mr. Kane, but in this temple, I am master. You are a guest, and I am sorry to have treated you so roughly, but it was necessary. Now it is necessary that I ask to leave. I will send acolytes with you to give this terrible news to the king. I would accompany you myself, but I am needed here." He clapped his hands, and two priests appeared at either side of him. Ted was going, whether he wanted to or not.

  "Fine," he said. "I'll just grab Kate and--" His eyes flew open wide. "Kate!"

  He bulled past the gate so fast the two priests had to run to keep up, kicking up dirt as he rounded the curve to bring him up to the guest hut--

  --whose door had been propped shut from the outside!

  Suddenly the two priests were ahead of him, moving like streaks of light. Tossing aside the timber that held the door fast, they darted inside. As Ted ran up, one scooped Kate out of a chair and without so much as a glance, threw her into Ted's arms. The other priest reached into the fire bare-handed and pulled out a burning log, which he waved around the room, filling it with smoke. In another instant both priests were outside slamming the door shut.

  The entire operation took less than four heartbeats.

  Immediately one of the priests was bending over the semi-conscious Kate, still held in Ted's arms, feeling her skull, tilting it from side to side. He barked an order, and when Ted failed to understand, motioned for him to place Kate on the ground. Ted did so, then yelled when the second priest dumped a double-handful of snow on her face!

  Ted lunged forward but was held back while the priest massaged Kate's face and ears with the freezing slush, waking her to furious consciousness in the process. He ignored her struggles, working for several more seconds, all the while somehow avoiding her churning arms and legs, then stepped backward--no, flowed backward, with the grace of liquid metal. The first priest released Ted to go to the sputtering Kate, who was still sitting on the cold ground, shaking snow from her hair.

  "What the hell was that?"

  "Kate! Kate! It's me! It's Ted!"

  Kate's eyes blinked open and she socked him. "Was that your idea of a joke?" She looked around, saw the priests, and halted in mid-tirade. "What happened?"

  He helped her to sit up, then stand. While she tried to brush herself off, he explained.

  "I think somebody just tried to kill you. And judging from their reaction," he said, pointing to the two priests, "they came pretty damned close." He took a hard breath. "And another thing: Kuragawa's dead."

  Kate stared at him. "What happened?" She repeated. She looked around, saw the barred door. "Was it--?"

  Ted nodded. "Apparently Kuragawa had gone into the temple to meditate. I smelled flowers, coming from the chamber where he was, and Master Ko went nuts. He grabbed me and tried to drag me out of there, but I managed to get close enough to Kuragawa to see he was dead. Then we ran out here, and the door to your hut was blocked. These two ran in and pulled you out."

  Kate looked at the door again, and the pair of priests, still waiting patiently to escort them to the palace to inform the king of the death of his guest. She bowed deeply to them, muttering a few words in Mandarin. One indicated the path back toward the palace. It did not take a linguist to know that they were being encouraged to be on their way.

  Whether Ruyan realized it or not, the best way to pacify T.J. Gillis was to feed him, particularly breakfast. If he thought that walking in on T.J. when he had a mouth full of food would discommode him in any way, though, he did not know his man.

  T.J. stumbled to his feet as Hano's father walked in, wiping his chin and extending a hand.

  "Ruyan! Good to meet you again!"

  Ruyan glanced at the proffered hand with a tiny smile, then reached out to grasp it briefly.

  "Please, sit down. Do not let me disturb your breakfast." He directed a quick blast of words at his son in Mand
arin, then listened to the reply. There was a bit more back and forth, then he turned to T.J.

  "I apologize, but some things are easier in my native language. My son has told me what you told him about the other man on the hillside. You never saw his face?"

  "No, afraid not."

  "Hm." Ruyan took a seat; Hano sat only after his father had. "Could you tell if he was Quanyun? Or--American?"

  T.J. took a moment to consider. This was a ticklish question, and he found himself wishing he had not been so eager to confront Ruyan, who was asking all the questions instead of answering them.

  "He looked pretty large, but I think he was wearing heavy coat and a hat, so it was hard to tell how big he really was. And he seemed to know his way around. And he was prepared, too, he brought food, like he'd been around here before."

  "Hm," Ruyan repeated. "And why were you following him, again?"

  Chapter Thirty-one

  A Little Hero

  "Actually, I wasn't--at first. I'm a geologist, and this is the first time I've ever been to Central Asia. I was hoping to do a little exploring, see some of the native rock formations. I'd been watching them when we drove up from Ulan Bator, but nobody would stop and let me look because the guides were afraid of bandits. So this was the first chance I had to get out and see some without worrying somebody was going to shoot at me.

  "At first I thought this guy was just walking along the same path I was, but when we saw your house, he started climbing up the hill, and I thought, 'That's strange. What's he up to?' So then I followed him. I'd just found a place to settle in when Hano came up behind me."

  Hano had the grace to look abashed when his father glanced his way. Whether Ruyan's expression was one of approval or reproach was more than T.J. could discern.

  "It would have been better, I think, if he had chosen the other man as his target, but I suppose he did not have much choice."