The Qing Dynasty Mysteries - Books 1-3

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The Qing Dynasty Mysteries - Books 1-3 Page 28

by Amanda Roberts


  Lady Li nodded. Then she hesitated before speaking more. “Inspector Gong,” she finally said as he was about to leave the room. “I…I must ask you…I’m sorry, I know this seems terribly odd. You are not married. Would you consider taking Concubine Swan?”

  Her heart hurt to say the words, but she needed to ask before her courage failed her.

  “She is Manchu,” he said.

  Lady Li waved him off. “A nobody. A widowed, childless concubine. I do not think anyone would stop you, in a legal sense.”

  He cleared his throat. “She is a lovely girl, and very clever,” he said. “But I fear my family would never allow it. Not as a wife anyway. Not with her…history.”

  Lady Li nodded. “That is my eternal stumbling block to finding her a new husband,” she said. “She is so young, but has already been through so much.”

  He nodded. “They would not let me take her as a wife, but if I was to marry a Han girl, they might not object to me taking her as a concubine.”

  Lady Li felt her heart hitch in her chest. “So you have been considering taking a wife?”

  “My family is becoming quite insistent upon it,” he said with a shrug. “I do not think I can delay much longer. I…I did not know how to tell you.”

  She stammered for a moment and tried to smile as if the news was nothing to her. “It matters not to me,” she lied. “It is not as if I could ever marry you.”

  “No,” he said somewhat sadly. “No, I don’t suppose you could.”

  As their eyes locked, Lady Li’s heart frozen in her chest. So she was not the only person who had entertained thoughts of them being together and found it impossible. Neither of them could ever hope to overcome the social rules keeping them apart.

  “Good luck to you,” she finally said softly. “Whoever she is, I hope she makes you happy.”

  He reached up and gently stroked Lady Li’s cheek. “You know she won’t.”

  16

  Inspector Gong was irritated he had spent the night searching for Concubine Swan instead of interrogating Jiaolong, but the boy had been so lost in opium he probably wouldn’t have been able to answer any questions anyway. At least Concubine Swan was safe, and had found out some interesting information. He wasn’t sure how the knowledge that Mr. Gibson had impregnated the girl would be useful, but any information that could help them solve this case faster was appreciated.

  But what would Lady Li do with Concubine Swan now? He couldn’t believe she had offered to sell her to him. He should have told her he would think about it, talk to his mother about it. After all, Concubine Swan was beautiful, smart, and flat-footed. True, she was Manchu and previously married, but if his mother was desperate enough for him to marry, she just might be persuaded to accept the girl.

  But taking Lady Li’s own servant as his wife? Would he ever be able to perform his husbandly duty with her and not think of Lady Li? Did Concubine Swan know about the…extent of his relationship with Lady Li? Could she be a good and dutiful wife to him if she did? Could he be a good husband to her with the shadow of Lady Li lurking behind them?

  As Inspector Gong approached the Ministry of Justice, he shook his head to rid himself of such troublesome thoughts. This was why he had never allowed a woman into his life before. Nothing but distractions.

  He stomped down the dark stairwell to the dank hallway below. The fetid smell infected his nose and the scurrying of rats sent chills down his spine. Even though his work had brought him here countless times, he was always glad to leave it. He couldn’t imagine having to spend the night here.

  As he opened the door to Jiaolong’s cell, he was surprised to find the boy sleeping on the pile of damp, moldy hay in the corner. He looked worse than the day before, sweaty yet shivering. Inspector Gong walked over and gave him a good kick before dragging him to his feet.

  “Get the hell up,” he said as he pushed him up against a wall.

  The boy’s eyes opened, but they still had a foggy, listless gaze to them, as if he were incapable of lifting his lids all the way. Just how much opium had he had, the inspector wondered. He had been locked up for over twelve hours. He should not still be in the cloud.

  The boy rubbed his eyes and his head lolled a bit. Inspector Gong gave him a slap.

  “Wake up,” he demanded. “Do you know why you are here? Where you even are?”

  The boy sighed. “What does it matter?” he asked. “Here? There? All life is a cage.”

  “Who put you in that cage?” the inspector asked as he paced back and forth like a tiger, trying to intimidate the boy. Well, he could now see that Jiaolong wasn’t exactly a boy. He had to be nearly thirty.

  “If the universe sees fit to cage me, there is no point in trying to escape,” Jiaolong lamented.

  “Do you know why you are here?” Inspector Gong asked again.

  “I don’t know. My father sent you for me?” he guessed halfheartedly.

  Inspector Gong smirked. “Why would he do that? Your father disowned you, didn’t he?”

  “Ahh,” the boy said, his eyes lighting up for the first time. “So you do know the bastard? What did you think of him?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think,” the inspector said. “What do you think of your family?”

  Jiaolong waved him away. “It doesn’t matter. I am his son. He will have to have me back eventually.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” the inspector said. “He seemed to think your sister was good enough to give her the family heirlooms.”

  That finally got a reaction from the boy. He crossed his arms and his nostrils flared. “She is just a girl, a worthless girl. She cannot replace me.”

  “But she was supporting you,” Inspector Gong said. “She was paying for your little opium habit, wasn’t she? She was also supporting your parents while you laid on your back all day. I think you were the useless one.”

  Jiaolong attempted to jump up and get in Inspector Gong’s face, but he was uneasy moving so quickly and the inspector easily pushed him back down.

  “Piss off, little man,” Inspector Gong said. “You can hardly stand, much less fight me. Just tell me what I want to know. Tell me about your sister.”

  “What is to tell?” Jiaolong asked, nearly falling back into the chair. “She’s a worthless whore. So what if she gives me a bit of scraps of coin? She sold her body and her soul to that fat White Devil to get it.”

  Inspector Gong kept his face impassive. “What do you mean?” he asked. “She was just a maid.”

  “Just a maid?” the boy scoffed. “And girls in flower houses just serve tea.”

  “What makes you think she was whoring?” Inspector Gong asked.

  “I can see it!” he said. “The last time she brought me money, she was very fat. She walked different. And that man, I saw him with her. I saw him touch her.”

  Inspector Gong was skeptical that Jiaolong would notice such subtle differences in his sister and know what they meant, but he supposed it was possible. If her parents and employer saw her regularly, they might not have noticed the subtle changes. But someone who only saw her every few months might think the changes were more dramatic. But he was more interested in when he might have seen Mr. Gibson acting inappropriate with the girl.

  “When did you see Mr. Gibson with your sister?” he asked.

  “That fat devil is the Opium King,” he said. “This is all his fault. He is the reason I am like this!” He gripped his tattered and stained clothes pitifully. “If anyone should be dead, it is that man!”

  “How did you know your sister was dead?” Inspector Gong asked.

  “I hear it,” he said, his head dropping. “I hear many things in the opium house. Everyone who is in the cloud, they tell everything.”

  “How did she die?” Inspector Gong asked.

  “Do you know what she did?” he asked, looking up at the inspector with glassy eyes. “That whore? Do you know?”

  “Tell me,” the inspector said.

  “She
sold the bow and arrow. Gave them to a little pawn man for a few bits of cash. She told me so when she gave me money the last time.”

  The inspector had not known this. “And what did you think when she told you this?” he asked.

  “She wanted to hurt me,” Jiaolong said, tearing up. “Wanted me to know what she had done in order to ‘help’ me, she said. That bitch. Do I not suffer enough?”

  Inspector Gong thought the boy did not suffer nearly enough, but did not say so.

  “I threw the money back at her!” the boy continued. “I would not take it or any more from her. I would rather starve.”

  The boy was so skinny the inspector thought the boy was rather on his way. “And then what?” the inspector asked. “Did you go get the bow and arrow. Shoot her with it to send a message?”

  Jiaolong sighed. “I wonder,” he said wistfully. “I dream of it, when I am in the cloud. Weilin, she dishonored me. She dishonored the family. She dishonored herself. In the cloud, I take the arrow in my hand and plunge it into her chest. There is blood on my hands, but the family honor is preserved.”

  “Did you do it?” the inspector asked. “Are you admitting to killing your sister?”

  “If I did it,” he sighed, “then my father would never take me back. She was an unfaithful, unfilial daughter. But to my parents she was like a pearl in their hands. They would never forgive me if I punished her, even if it was for their benefit.”

  Inspector Gong was at the end of his patience. He growled as he grabbed Jialong by the shirt, pulled him from the floor, and slammed him into the wall. “Did you kill your sister?” he yelled. “Admit to me that you did it!”

  “No!” Jiaolong cried, turning to jelly in Inspector Gong’s grip. “It was only a dream!”

  Inspector Gong let the boy go, and he crumpled to the floor, sobbing.

  “Who did, then?” the inspector asked. The boy didn’t respond except with tears, so Inspector Gong kicked him and then asked again. “Who killed your sister?”

  “I don’t know!” the boy cried as he curled up into a ball, clutching his belly.

  “Damnit!” the inspector yelled as he stormed from the cell. He was so close. Why didn’t the boy just admit to it? This could all be over. He should just charge the boy anyway. He was a worthless piece of shit. The boy’s parents already thought he had done it. No one would miss him and this whole mess would come to an end.

  He paced the hallway as he tried to decide what to do. He walked back to Jiaolong’s cell, ready to charge him with the crime, but then he turned away. He didn’t want to charge an innocent man with murder unless he had no other choice. The penalty would be beheading. He didn’t want that on his conscience, no matter how worthless the boy was.

  He then remembered that the girl’s boyfriend was still locked up as well. He went to Bolin’s cell and open the door. The young man was sitting there on the floor, his legs crossed as though he were meditating.

  “Inspector!” Bolin cried out as he shuffled to his feet. “Where have you been? I thought you had forgotten me. Have you found the killer?”

  “Who was Weilin afraid of?” the inspector asked without an explanation, he was so harried.

  “What?” Bolin asked, confusion on his face. “She was afraid?”

  “In one of her letters to you…” Inspector Gong reached into his many pockets searching for the letters. He nearly sighed with relief when he found them. He rifled through them, looking for the passage Lady Li had translated. “Here.” He pointed to the words when he found them. “She says, ‘if he comes back, I don’t know how I will survive.’ Who was she speaking of?”

  He shook his head. “I…I’m not sure. Many people were causing her trouble. Mr. Gibson, her father, her worthless brother. Her uncle was coming to town as well.”

  “He uncle?” Inspector Gong asked. This was the first he was hearing about an uncle.

  “Yes,” Bolin explained. “He is a very hard man. Very traditional. He was furious over the loss of the family land. He blamed his brother, Weilin’s father, for it. And he hated that Weilin worked for the foreigners. He thought it was a betrayal. He was also angry that Jialong had been disowned. He said that family should always come first.”

  “Could he have killed Weilin?” Inspector Gong asked. “To preserve the family honor?”

  Bolin sighed. “I suppose it is possible. But I think any of them could have done it now.”

  “So do I,” Inspector Gong said. “But I am running out of time. The foreigners are threatening war if we don’t open the ports. But the prince doesn’t want the ports opened until the killer is found. I need to name a killer. Now! Don’t let it be you.”

  The boy gasped in horror. “Me? You know I did not do this. I love her!”

  “You are lucky I found the brother,” the inspector said. “Before I had him in custody the prince nearly ordered me to charge you with the crime.”

  Bolin leaned against the wall an all color drained from his face. “I didn’t do it. I…love her. I will help you however I can.”

  “The uncle,” Inspector Gong said. “I need to know who he is and where I can find him. I don’t have all day to go searching.”

  The boy paced. “He is a Zhao, and he is younger than her father. I don’t know his given name. But he is also a skilled woodcarver. Maybe he is in the artisan district.”

  Inspector Gong shook his head. “It’s not enough. Do you know where she pawned the bow and arrow, the heirlooms from her father.”

  “Oh, yes,” Bolin said, his eyes lighting up in remembrance. “She was very distraught over that. Her brother, the bastard, he needed more and more money. She couldn’t earn enough. She had to support her parents and that worthless dog flea was eating more and more opium. It broke her heart to sell the bow and arrow, but she didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” the inspector asked.

  “I…I was afraid,” he admitted. “If I told you all I knew, you would think I was guilty.”

  Inspector Gong exhaled slowly. The boy wasn’t wrong. At least he was being honest now. “So where did she take them?” he asked.

  “To a foreigner seller,” he said. “Not Chinese. A Chinese shop would give her nothing. But these stupid foreigners, they pay top dollar for Chinese arts and crafts, family heirlooms, farm equipment! Can you believe it? Just junk, they sell it overseas. British people use it to decorate their houses.”

  Inspector Gong found this information surprising. Was there no end to the strange ways of foreigners? But he couldn’t dwell on that now. “Who is the seller?”

  “We call him Mr. Big,” Bolin said. “He has a shop inside the legation. So not every Chinese can go there, but we who work in the legation, we sell things there. Some of the girls are very good at it. They go to the countryside and buy things from families very cheap. Embroidered shoes, wood door carvings, chopsticks, silly things. Then they sell them to Mr. Big and make a lot of money.”

  “Does he speak Chinese?” Inspector Gong asked.

  “No, only English,” he said. “That is why he only deals with legation Chinese.”

  “So whoever Mr. Big sold the bow and arrow to, that could be our killer,” Inspector Gong said.

  “I think so,” Bolin said. “Did I help enough. Will you set me free?”

  Inspector Gong opened the door to the cell. “Not yet,” he said. “But you did well. I will be back.”

  He could hear Bolin whimper as he shut the door.

  17

  Lady Li was disgusted with herself. She was sick over it. The way she completely lost herself in her rage over Concubine Swan left her in a daze. How could she act that way? In front of her daughters? In front of Inspector Gong? In front of her servants?

  Of course, she was within her right to be angry, and to even beat the girl. When her husband died, the ownership of Concubine Swan fell to her, and she was within her right to treat her however she wanted. No one would bat an eye if her husband had
beat the concubine. But that was not Lady Li’s way. She was not the sort of person who would give herself over to sudden surges of emotion. She was a calm, rational, logical person.

  Or was she?

  She wasn’t sure anymore. She had given herself to Inspector Gong in a fit of passion as well. Something she had never imagined she would do. Since he came into her life, she hardly recognized herself. While it pained her heart to think of him marrying another woman, another part of her hoped he would. She needed him out of her life.

  But she could no longer imagine her life without him in it.

  She had been so lonely, so despondent before she met him. Even if he had brought her innumerable troubles, she was certainly no longer bored. But was he worth it? What would this…distraction cost her in the end? She was already tempting danger. Popo had said that the neighbor women were talking about how often Inspector Gong was coming to her home. How long would it be before their tongues started wagging about Concubine Swan? What would happen when the empress found out?

  No, she could not risk everything for him. For a man, a Han, who could never mean anything more to her. She hoped he would marry, and soon. Then her life would go back to normal.

  But what was she now to do about Concubine Swan?

  Her opium addiction was getting out of control if she was willing to sneak out of the house to get it. She wasn’t sure what to do about it, short of locking her in her room until the addiction ceased. But what of the reasons for her turning to opium in the first place? Lady Li sighed to herself. She had no idea how to help Concubine Swan lead a better, happier life. The thought of selling her to a man who would probably treat her poorly filled Lady Li with dread, but she feared she would soon have no choice.

  Lady Li rubbed her stomach. All of her anxiety was making her nauseous. She was about to call for some ginger tea when there was a knock on her door.

  “Enter,” she said, expecting it to be her maid.

  “My lady,” came a familiar and dearly missed voice.

 

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