Concubine Swan giggled. “No. I just know the name. Tea and opium, yes?”
The other women laughed uncomfortably.
“I am sure India has more than that to offer,” Mrs. Gibson said.
“But that is about it in a nutshell,” Lady Highcastle said.
“And malaria,” Mrs. Belvedere said. “And the heat. And the humidity! And the smell! Oh, my lord. If I never smell…”
“When will you return to England, Mrs. Belvedere?” Lady Li asked in the hopes of redirecting the conversation.
“Heaven knows!” she replied, throwing up her hands. “Have you heard about the ports being closed? We were supposed to leave next month so we can be home for Christmas. I tell you, that Mr. Hart is ruining lives as we speak. Not only was my husband’s ship locked in the port for some dreadful inspection, even passenger ships have been prevented from leaving.”
“How terribly inconvenient,” Lady Li said innocently.
“We were lucky that my husband’s captain was anxious to leave and left early,” Mrs. Gibson said.
“Well some of us weren’t,” Mrs. Belvedere said. “Our silk and porcelain goods were scheduled to ship next week, but Mr. Hart said that the inspection could last a month!”
“Not to mention the ships that now can’t get in,” Lady Highcastle said. “Most of our husbands import as well.”
“Indeed,” Mrs. Gibson said. “Our ship got out but our next arrival has been delayed indefinitely. I don’t know what Hart expects them to do. Just float around in circles for weeks on end? What about our letters from home?”
“It’s an act of war, I tell you!” Mrs. Belvedere exclaimed rather suddenly, causing Lady Li to nearly spit out her tea.
“Oh, Julia,” Lady Highcastle said, patting Mrs. Belvedere’s hand. “It can’t be a bad as that, can it?”
“It certainly is!” Mrs. Belvedere said. “We were awarded those trade ports fair and square after the last war. To close them is to violate the peace treaty.”
Lady Li could feel her left eye twitch and her cheeks burn. She knew she needed to keep silent if she wished to gain information from the ladies, but as she bit the inside of her cheek to the point of bleeding, she simply could not.
“I am sure that any losses will pale in comparison to the losses the Chinese suffered during the war,” she said. “The emperor died because of it. I am sure a few days’ delay of a ship is only a minor inconvenience.”
The other ladies were silent for a moment as the tension mounted. The other ladies shuffled uncomfortably as Lady Li locked eyes with Mrs. Belvedere.
“I would not expect you to understand matters of economic importance,” Mrs. Belvedere finally said to Lady Li. “Chinese women aren’t even allowed to go to school, much less be educated in such complex matters.”
“And considering how young England is when compared to China,” Lady Li said, “I can understand why your people have such little regard for the culture, the traditions, the architecture of the people you conquer.”
“Architecture?” Mrs. Belvedere scoffed. “You mean those ridiculous squat houses and open-air temples? It’s just wood and paint. Nothing of substance like the great marble structures we build. We did China a favor by burning down that wretched Summer ‘Palace’ as the locals like to call it.”
“Did you see the Summer Palace before your people came?” Lady Li asked.
“Of course, not,” Mrs. Belvedere said.
“I did,” Lady Li said. “I was there when it burned. I watched from a nearby cliff as hundreds of buildings, countless of pieces of art, and thousands of years of history went up in smoke. After your soldiers looted what they could like common thieves.”
“Oh, Lady Li,” Lady Highcastle said, her hand on her chest. “How terrible that much have been for you.”
“Well,” Mrs. Belvedere huffed. “You would think that you people would have learned your lesson. Defying the will of the British will only cost you dearly.”
“Did you learn your lesson after the American Revolution?” Lady Li asked. “Great Britain can only force its will upon the world for so long.”
Mrs. Belvedere stood. “Well, I think I have had quite enough tea. Good day to you all.”
The other ladies all stood. Lady Highcastle tried to see Mrs. Belvedere out, but she nearly rushed out without even a goodbye.
“Perhaps we should go as well,” Lady Li said. “I fear I let my stupid tongue say too much.”
“Oh no,” Mrs. Gibson said, sitting back down. “Do stay. Mrs. Belvedere is always a negative Nelly.”
“She is a hard woman to get to know,” Lady Highcastle said as she sat.
“Lady Highcastle,” Concubine Swan said very formally. “How are you coping after the murder?”
Lady Li gasped. “Con…Cousin Swan! How can you ask such a thing? I am so sorry, ladies.”
Lady Highcastle and Mrs. Gibson looked at each other and then burst out laughing.
“It’s quite all right, Lady Li,” Lady Highcastle said. “Do you think we have talked about anything else since that day?”
“It has been quite stressful, in truth,” Lady Highcastle replied. “That there is a murderer running loose in the legation, it is terrifying. She was shot from outside! We aren’t even safe in our own homes.”
“I have heard that the police are looking for the young woman’s boyfriend,” Lady Li said. “Someone name Wang Bolin.”
“Wang Bolin?” Lady Highcastle asked. “Are you serious? Where did you hear that?”
She stammered for a moment, unsure of how to reply. How would she hear something so specific?
“The Chinese newspaper,” Concubine Swan said.
Lady Li looked at her in shock, but she only nodded for Lady Li to go along.
“Oh, yes, the Chinese newspaper,” Lady Li said. “I am sure the Chinese newspapers and the English newspapers are each printing their own versions of what happened.”
Lady Highcastle and Mrs. Belvedere nodded, accepting the explanation.
“Do they think he did it?” Lady Highcastle asked.
“I think it is just routine to question anyone who was close to the girl,” Lady Li said.
“Well, Mrs. Belvedere is going to love that,” Lady Highcastle said. “Wang Bolin is a member of her staff.”
“Oh.” Lady Li nearly shuddered. It would be impossible for her to speak with Mrs. Belvedere after their last exchange. What would Inspector Gong think? “Are you sure?”
“Quite sure,” Lady Highcastle said. “I remember because she was concerned he would be leaving to get married. And it is so hard to find male Chinese servants who speak English. Chinese women who speak English are difficult enough to find, but a man is like finding the Holy Grail.”
“Oh, you are right,” Mrs. Gibson said. “I remember that now. It didn’t dawn on me when she was telling us about it that he was the young man who had been courting Weilin. It makes perfect sense now.”
Lady Li sipped at her tea, which had long gone cold and pondered how she was going to break this news to Inspector Gong. He was certainly going to be unhappy with the fact that she had made an enemy of the woman who could keep him from taking Wang into custody.
A clock on the mantle chimed.
“Will you look at the time,” Lady Highcastle said. “I am sorry but my children will be home from school soon.”
The ladies all stood.
“Not at all,” Lady Li said. “I do hope I may visit again.”
“Of course,” Lady Highcastle said. “I do enjoy having someone with…a different point of view in the room.”
They all said their goodbyes, and then Lady Li and Concubine Swan made their way back to the front gate of the legation. As soon as they got into their sedan chair, Concubine Swan began laughing hysterically.
“That was wonderful,” she said in Chinese.
“It was dreadful!” Lady Li replied. “Mrs. Belvedere is going to have me banned from legation forever!”
“No,
” Concubine Swan said. “The other ladies won’t let her. They hate her.”
“What do you mean?” Lady Li asked.
‘The way they look at her, talk to her. The young lady, she defended you,” Concubine Swan said. “No, I think they do not like that wrinkled old sow.”
“Watch your tongue!” Lady Li said harshly. “And what was that? ‘What do you think about the murder?’ How could you be so blunt?”
Concubine Swan waved her concerns away. “You were taking too long. You were never going to learn anything.”
“Please,” Lady Li begged. “You must be more cautious.”
“Fine,” Concubine Swan said. “Next time I will be more discreet.”
“You think there will be a next time?” Lady Li asked.
“Oh please, my lady!” Concubine Swan cried as she pulled on Lady Li’s hand. “Let me help you. Do not lock me up at home! It is so boring there.”
Lady Li sighed. “I don’t keep you captive. You know this is our life, to be in the house and never to leave.”
“But you found a way to leave,” Concubine Swan said. “By helping the inspector and making friends with foreign ladies. Please don’t leave me behind.”
Lady Li patted the girl’s hand. “I will see what I can do,” she said. “But I make no promises.”
10
As Inspector Gong and Prince Kung neared the legation, a crowed formed behind them. The people knew that the prince would not be heading to the legation unless there had been a development.
“We have to act fast,” Inspector Gong said. “Get in, grab the boy, grab his belongings, and get out.”
“If we can get into the house at all,” the prince grumbled. “This is going to be a nightmare.”
“He will hear us coming,” the inspector said. “As soon as we get inside the gate, word will spread faster than we can walk. He will try to escape. We will station our men around the wall, but we need to keep our eyes open.”
The prince nodded and jumped out of the chair as soon as it stopped outside the legation. He marched up to the gate, which was immediately opened for him and his men. But as they all walked toward the British quarter, the British police chief and consuls rushed forward. Prince Kung did not stop as he explained his haste to them. If he stopped to explain, the boy would run.
But the prince, the inspector, and their men could only get so far. When they arrived at the Belvedere’s house, a large man and an angry woman came out and stood on the porch.
The man barked angry words at the prince that Inspector Gong did not understand. Prince Kung nodded and did his best to explain the situation, but Inspector Gong did not hold out hope that they would be allowed inside the house. He stood back so he could watch the front and left side of the house. He looked at the windows up above where he could see servants peeking out. All along the street, Chinese and foreigners were gathering.
Suddenly, Inspector Gong heard someone call out, “Watch out!” in Chinese. He looked down the road and saw a young man with a bulky coat and large satchel collide with a maid who had been carrying a box of oranges. The oranges spilled onto the street, causing the young man to stumble and struggle to get back to his feet.
“Hey! Stop!” the inspector called out. The young man looked back at him, but then turned away and ran. Inspector Gong ran after him. The young man was fast, but he was bogged down by his clothes and his bag. When he saw that Inspector Gong was catching up with him, he dropped his bag, but there was nothing he could do about his clothes. He had only made it the length of three or four houses when Inspector Gong leaped on him, dragging him to the ground.
Inspector Gong grabbed the boy by his shirt. “Are you Wang Bolin?” he asked. The boy did not respond, so Inspector Gong punched him in the face. “Are you Wang Bolin?” he shouted again.
“Yes! Yes!” the boy cried.
“Get up,” the inspector ordered as he dragged Wang to his feet.
The prince and several of the prince’s men ran up the inspector.
“Don’t talk to anyone on your way out or they might try to stop you,” the prince said.
The inspector nodded.
“We cannot get inside the house,” the prince said. “It is impossible.”
“Don’t worry,” the inspector said. As they approached the bag that Wang had dropped, he reached down and picked it up. “Everything the boy owns is probably in this bag.”
Several foreign men did approach the inspector and the prince. The inspector ignored them all, but the prince did reply to some of them as he kept on walking. The foreigners seemed irritated that the inspector was making an arrest in the legation, but they did not want to physically stop him and risk angering the prince.
As they approached the gate, the inspector worried for a moment that it would not open for them, but it did. However, he was not prepared to meet the crowds outside.
Hundreds of people had gathered, and when they saw that Inspector Gong was dragging a Chinese man out of the legation with a bloody nose, the crowd erupted into shouts and jeers. They pushed in toward the gate, and the prince’s men had to forcedly push their way through the crowd so that the prince and the inspector could take their captive to their sedan chair.
“Is that him?” a voice called out from behind the inspector. “Is that the man who killed my girl?”
The crowd yelled louder.
The inspector threw the young man into the sedan chair and then turned to the dead girl’s father. “I don’t know anything yet,” the inspector said. “I just want to question him.”
“Is this the boy who was trying to seduce her?” he pressed.
“I don’t know,” the inspector said as he got into the chair. “I will be in contact with you soon. You need to leave this place.” He motioned to the crowd. “No good will come of this.”
“You get justice your way, inspector,” the father said. “And I will get it in mine.”
Inspector Gong didn’t like the sound of those words, but he couldn’t wait around to see what would happen. He instructed his men to try to disperse the crowd as best they could without resorting to violence. But he had no faith they would succeed.
Inspector Gong took the young man to the Ministry of Justice, a dungeon below the Forbidden City. He dragged the boy out of the sedan chair and down the stairs into the dark and winding paths of the Ministry of Justice. Prince Gong did not accompany the inspector—he trusted him to get the information they needed.
The inspector took the boy to a small room and tossed him inside. He closed the door behind them.
“Please, please,” the young man, who could not have been more than twenty, sniveled.
“Please what?” the inspector asked.
“Please don’t kill me,” the boy said.
“Why would I kill you?” the inspector asked as he tossed the boy to the floor. The room had no windows and no other doors. There was a pile of moldy straw in one corner and a hole in the floor where a person could piss. The room was dark, dank, and terrifying.
“Because you think I killed Weilin,” he said.
“Did you?” the inspector asked.
“I couldn’t!” the boy cried as he got to his knees and kowtowed before the inspector. “I love her! I wanted to marry her!”
“Then why didn’t you?” the inspector asked.
“She wanted to wait,” the boy said. “She has to support her family. She makes good money in the legation.”
The inspector noticed that the boy spoke in the present tense, as if the girl were still alive. That was something murderers didn’t usually do.
“So what is in your bag?” the inspector asked, picking up the rucksack and opening it.
“No!” Wang yelled, reaching for it.
Inspector Gong placed his foot on Wang’s chest and pushed him back. “Stay down there!” He opened the bag and pulled out some extra clothes, a couple of books, and some food. As one of the shirts unrolled, something clattered to the floor.
It
was the arrow the inspector had last seen in the girl’s chest.
The inspector looked at Wang, and the two locked eyes. The boy scrambled away, as if he would try to run, but there was nowhere to go. Inspector Gong picked up the arrow, then he grabbed Wang’s shirt and tossed him into a wall.
“Where did you get this?” Inspector Gong demanded. “Why do you have it?”
“I just wanted it to remember her by,” the boy said. “They put her body in a box in the Gibsons’ basement. I crawled in through a window. I just wanted to see her one last time! The arrow was in the box. I took it. I didn’t think! I just miss her so much!”
“Are you an idiot?” Inspector Gong asked as the boy started to cry again. “Or are you trying to steal evidence? Where did you really get it? Why would you kill her with something so ornate?”
“I didn’t,” he screamed. “I didn’t! It wasn’t mine. Her father made it. It must have been a gift for her or something.”
“Her father made it?” Inspector Gong asked, loosening his grip.
“He’s a woodcarver. Old family trade,” the boy said, calming slightly.
Inspector Gong remembered that the old man had told him that he was a woodcarver. He said he made door carvings, but it would make sense he could make any kind of woodcarving. But why would the old man give her the arrow? Would he have killed her with it? If he thought she had dishonored the family in some way, he could have thought he was justified. In many ways, he would be. Family disputes often resulted in deaths, and if the dead person was the property of the killer, a child or a concubine, the killer often faced no consequences. If the old man had killed the girl in his own home instead of in the legation, no one would have batted an eye.
But if the old man had killed her, that would mean he somehow got into the legation, climbed to the roof of the Belvedere house, and then waited for the perfect moment to kill the girl when she was in a room that wasn’t her own.
No, it was too farfetched. It didn’t make any sense.
However, the father could have hired someone, like Wang, to kill the girl. But if Wang loved her, he wouldn’t have killed her. Unless he had his own reason to.
The Qing Dynasty Mysteries - Books 1-3 Page 23
