A Deadly Injustice

by Ian Morson

  ‘A secret assignation after good entertainment and plenty to drink. Perfect.’

  I crossed back over the courtyard, and, watched by a curious Gurbesu, began to dress in my finest.

  Later, the square was crowded with people, most of whom had richly embroidered robes on. They strolled around, bowing to their superiors and taking acknowledgements from their inferiors. Rows of benches had been set up facing the stage, which was now lit with flaming torches, and most spaces were rapidly being occupied by the elite. In the very front row lounged a small group of Mongols dressed in clothes quite different from the rest of the crowd. They wore short tunics in blue or red and trimmed in fur with grey trousers. One or two of this small elite had embroidered silk tunics but their mien was nevertheless militaristic. The man at the centre of attention had a full coat of boiled leather strips that marked him out as a cavalryman. Lin pressed my arm and hissed in my ear.

  ‘See the one dressed like a soldier? That is Taitemir, the governor. His remit covers this city and the one we are journeying to. He is Li Wen-Tao’s boss.’

  As he spoke, the man to whom he was referring turned to scan the crowd behind him. His cold gaze took us in too, stopping on my fine features for a chilling moment. Taitemir’s face was hard and composed, his stony eyes outlined by crows’ feet that radiated from their corners like the sun’s rays. He was used to peering into the far distance at an enemy and scaring them with his look. I was glad I had decided not to get involved with him. He would have seen through me in an instant. Even now, I would have kept well clear of him, but Lin was bolder. He squared his slim shoulders and strode towards the Mongol overlord of the region. I reluctantly followed, with Gurbesu, Alberoni and Tadeusz close on my heels.

  The crowd, impressed by Lin’s red robe, parted, and we all sliced through the throng with ease. As Lin approached Taitemir, the Mongol deigned to give him a perfunctory look. Lin bowed low, and Taitemir’s gaze focused on me. He screwed his eyes up as if assessing an enemy, though it may just have been in curiosity at the barbarian he observed before him. Then Lin’s head bobbed back up, and I was spared being stripped to the bone by Taitemir’s gaze. We made our way to a space on the second row and settled down to watch this phenomenon so new to us Westerners called a play. Lin spoke to a neighbouring member of the audience then turned to me.

  ‘It is a new crime case play called the Mo-Ho-Lo Doll. Mo-Ho-Lo is an Indian demigod – a snake-headed demon – whom we Chin have made into a handsome youth with a serpent’s head cap. Dolls of him are used on the festival held on the seventh day of the seventh month.’

  Suddenly an acrobat sprang on stage and the tale began. Occasionally, Lin gave us a whispered running commentary at the expense of hisses from our neighbours. The story that began to unfold was one of a wicked apothecary who lusted after this man’s wife. My pretty empress from earlier in the day played the part of the wife. The apothecary poisons her husband, and then when she refuses to marry him he denounces her to the court as the murderer. By now, I wasn’t paying any attention to Lin’s commentary as I was riveted by the pretty acrobat I had encountered earlier. She was willowy and alluring, and even I could follow the plot relating to her being accused of murdering her husband. I could see that the man who lusted after her had done the deed of course. And that he would accuse the woman when she refused his advances. Lin leaned closer to whisper in my ear and avoid Gurbesu hearing. He needn’t have worried – she was entranced by the whole play and giving it her full attention.

  ‘The person you wish to see is called Tien-jan Hsiu. It means Natural Elegance. Be at my rooms after the play finishes.’

  I nodded my head, eager for the play to run its course. By the end, the object of my lust had been exonerated and rewarded for her purity. I hoped the actress – I think that is the word I should use for these performers – was not quite as pure as the woman she portrayed on stage. With the play finished and the actors vigorously applauded, the crowd began to disperse. As we got up, I looked back to the stage to catch a sight of Natural Elegance, but all I could see as the burning torches dimmed was disappointing. The striking view to the rear of a Chinese mountain was now just a flat and pallid painted backcloth with creases in it. I marvelled that I had been so taken in by it all. One of the male actors walked across the stage, his painted face now bare, and I could see his acne scars. He, who had a short time ago been an evil giant of a man, was no more than a skinny youth. I shrugged my shoulders and sighed. Gurbesu was at my side, so I took the opportunity to make my excuses.

  ‘Darling, I must go and talk with Lin again.’

  She stroked my cheek and pouted.

  ‘But it’s so late, Nick.’

  For a moment I almost relented. But it was only a moment. Natural Elegance’s suppleness came to mind again, and I tried out a miserable look on my face. I hoped it was as convincing as the actors’ mugging had been.

  ‘We will be on our way again tomorrow, and we have little time left to plan. One of the petitioners in our case is here, and we must speak with him. It is a shame, but duty calls.’

  She gave me a funny look, and I thought I had overcooked it. But then she sighed and squeezed my hand.

  ‘I will stay awake for your return. Just in case.’

  I gave her a brave but sad smile, and we went our separate ways through the milling crowd.

  SIX

  One should be as careful in choosing one’s pleasures as in avoiding calamities.

  Lin’s rooms were lit by a few small lamps, creating pools of light and shade. Mainly shade. His servant, Po Ku, was nowhere in evidence, and peering into the gloom I could just make out the familiar figure of my friend reclining on a low bench. He had already divested himself of his formal robe and relaxed in his white silk shirt with a red sash around his waist. He raised a hand and beckoned me in.

  ‘Zhong Kui, you look very demonic tonight. Did you like the play?’

  I slumped on the bench opposite, loosening my own fur-trimmed Mongol jacket.

  ‘What I could understand, yes. It was an interesting story of a murder that was not too far from our own case. A woman suspected of murdering her own husband, and incriminated by the real murderer. Is that what you expect to find when we get to P’ing-Yang-Fu?’

  Lin gave a little high-pitched laugh. The brutal castration as a boy had left him with a light voice that he often masked by whispering. It gave him an air of mystery and self-control which was actually quite in keeping with his actions. When he spoke out loud, however, he piped rather childishly.

  ‘I wondered if you would see the parallels. Maybe we have both learned something from this trifle of an entertainment.’

  ‘Ah, yes. We should be looking for the spurned lover.’ I paused and licked my lips. ‘Talking of lovers . . .’

  Lin smiled a strange enigmatic smile.

  ‘Yes. It is all arranged. But first we must see Guan Han-Ching. He is the petitioner I told you about.’

  ‘The scribbler of plays?’

  A clear voice rang out from behind me, speaking in the Mongol tongue for my benefit.

  ‘I may be a second-class citizen in Kubilai’s empire, occupied in the lowliest of trades. But I would like to believe that I am the best at what I do, sir, and more than a scribbler.’

  I turned round to look at the interloper. In the doorway stood a tall, well-built young man, probably in his twenties. He was clean shaven, and his hair was cut short, unlike Lin’s and those of his class who wore a long queue hanging down their back. He affected the clothes of a peasant, wearing brown homespun with a green pattern to it. But I could see that the motif was woven in the cloth, not stencilled as a common man’s would be. Under the coarse outer garment the edge of a silk shirt poked out. He also wore the leather boots of a scholar. He noticed the direction of my gaze, and shuffled his feet.

  ‘I am a mere clerk in the Office of the Grand Physician. And, it seems, a scribbler of plays in my spare time.’

  He may have thought to e
mbarrass me by throwing my words describing him back at me. But it took more than that to cause me to blush. I smiled blandly and relaxed back on my cushions. There was an awkward pause until Lin waved his arm, indicating that Guan should come in. But the youth stood resolutely at the door.

  ‘I will not disturb your august personages more than is necessary. I merely came as you bid me to announce myself and my intentions. I acted as scribe and fellow petitioner to Geng Wenbo.’ A sardonic grin flitted across his lips. ‘His own skills at writing and composing a suitably grovelling letter to Kubilai were limited. I was in the town when the case came before the prefect, and I saw the great injustice that was taking place. I could not stand back and let it happen.’

  Lin broke into what was obviously a carefully considered speech.

  ‘And you no doubt saw the situation would enhance your reputation, and would make an excellent kung-anplay.’

  Guan, to his credit, was not put off by Lin’s deliberately rude interruption. A quiet smile played across his face.

  ‘Indeed, Master Lin. You have me there. A great play for sure, that will stand as a beacon for the cause of justice for years to come.’ He looked me in the eye. ‘You believe in justice, do you not?’

  I surprised myself with a reply that sounded deeply philosophical.

  ‘Truth and justice are ephemeral creatures that can have different skins at different times, like the chameleon lizard I have seen sailors bring back from lands beyond the sea.’

  Guan was nonplussed by my reply, and his prepared presentation was broken. He recovered himself enough to say that he would see us again in P’ing-Yang-Fu, and then bowed out in to the night. Lin laughed breathily, and patted me on the back.

  ‘That was a very thoughtful retort of yours. And the simile was excellent. I have seen such a lizard, and the changing of their skin colour is remarkable.’

  I blushed at the compliment and confessed the truth.

  ‘I borrowed the idea from you, Chu-Tsai, as well you know. Though I confess the imagery was my own. I have been saving it up for just such a moment.’

  Just as I finished speaking, I was conscious of another figure standing in the doorway. The well-built Guan had not returned, however, because framed by the moonlight, I could tell this was Natural Elegance. Her hips were slightly tilted and her shape curvy. My mouth went dry. Then she stepped into the room, and the light from one of the lamps fell on the figure’s face. I gasped in shock. The luscious Empress Tu, the sweet Yu-Niang from the play, the lubricious Natural Elegance was a youth. A pretty, willowy youth, but a youth nevertheless. I turned to Lin and scowled.

  ‘You knew.’

  Lin had a big grin plastered on his face.

  ‘Forgive me for deceiving you. It was so amusing seeing how you lusted for Tien-jan, when I knew all along that she was a he.’ Suddenly his tone became severe. ‘Besides, you should not have forsaken Gurbesu for a passing . . . amusement.’

  For once I had to agree with him. Gurbesu’s charms were suddenly all the more attractive, when compared to those of young Tien-jan. I silently thanked the God that I was not sure I truly believed in for saving me from a grievous error, and beat a retreat from Lin’s rooms.

  Gurbesu was surprised but pleased when I burst into our room a few moments later.

  ‘You are earlier than I thought, sweetheart.’ She gave me a piercing look that I feared meant she had seen right through my subterfuge. ‘I imagined you would be hours with Lin and his visitor, and then looking over all the documents in that case.’

  I brazened it out and shrugged nonchalantly, as though we had solved the problem easily.

  ‘It was not such a difficult matter, after all. And our interview with the playwright Guan, who drafted the petition, was brief. It would seem he is more interested in making a name for himself than chasing justice for Jianxu. Though like many young men he burns with the idea he sees injustice everywhere. He hails from that part of Cathay where fifty years ago the leaders went quickly over to the Mongol side to save their skins. They were called the Black Army according to Lin, and escaped relatively unscathed from the invasion. Maybe Guan feels guilty about his ancestry. Who knows?’

  I unfastened my Mongol jacket and eased down on the low bed, reaching out to Gurbesu’s hips.

  ‘So now we have the whole evening to ourselves.’

  As I felt the warmth of Gurbesu’s thigh, I shuddered at the thought of touching Natural Elegance, and finding a male member between ‘her’ legs. I wiped the image from my mind, but as I grabbed her, Gurbesu’s face fell.

  ‘Oh I am sorry, dear. I thought, when you said that you would be hours that I would invite Tadeusz and the friar to our room. We are going to have a little supper. You are welcome to join us, naturally.’

  Before I could protest, the door suddenly opened, and the aforesaid pair poked their heads in. Alberoni smiled broadly.

  ‘Ah, Niccolò, you are here. I wanted to ask you about something before we got to our destination.’

  I think I must have replied a little sulkily, because Alberoni gave me a strange look, and shook his head. Gurbesu, noticing the awkwardness, started bustling around, producing smoked meat and fresh fruit from somewhere. And a stone flagon of Chinee rice wine. Tadeusz was already laying on the table some dried fruit he had brought with him. He cast a glance at me too, before asking me about the details of the case.

  ‘Will it be resolved easily, do you think?’

  I shrugged. It seemed to be the only communication I was capable of at the moment. As we settled down together at the table, I looked out of the window and across the courtyard. In Lin’s rooms I saw a shadowy figure embracing Lin tightly. Before the lamp in the room was extinguished, I felt sure the figure looked willowy and elegant. I returned my attention to the others in my room, but not before Tadeusz also had seen what I was looking at. I tried to concentrate on the matter in hand.

  ‘Let’s see what we do know.’

  Tadeusz had placed an oil lamp in the centre of the table, and its flame cast a circle of light in which we all sat. To my right sat Gurbesu, who was biting into a peach. I watched as the juice ran down her chin. She smiled and wiped it away with delicate fingers. She then waved them in the air.

  ‘Don’t look at me for enlightenment. You have told me nothing so far. I feel that I am just along for the ride.’

  I brushed aside her self-deprecating words. I knew how useful she would be when it came to talking to the main suspect – and presumed perpetrator – Jianxu. She could use her wiles on a man to get him to talk, but more importantly was able to extract the innermost thoughts from another woman. And truths often emerged from such a meeting of minds that would have been held back from me or the other men. I reckoned even Alberoni would benefit from her powers of truth-finding in his confessional. The friar was the next round the table, and I raised a questioning eyebrow towards him. He clasped his hands together.

  ‘I did manage to talk to Lin on our way here. I understand that the poor girl confessed to the crime. What more is there to say?’

  I gave a harsh and braying laugh.

  ‘Do you know how they obtain a confession here? They use a bastinado, beating the soles of the person’s feet until they cannot stand the pain any more. Then they confess.’

  ‘Are you saying there is no place for torture in extracting the truth?’

  I thought of all the ways a suspected person would be abused in the West – the rack, the head crusher, or thumbscrews – and shook my head.

  ‘Not if you are a seeker of the truth. A confession is easily obtained – the truth needs winkling out. Taduesz, do you have any observations to make before we reach P’ing-Yang-Fu?’

  The little man leaned away from the circle of light and stroked his beard. When he spoke from the darkness, it was with a quaver in his voice.

  ‘Do you not think, Nick, that the girl has been deliberately placed in the picture to allow the real killer to escape free and clear? Are not Chinee girls very o
bedient sorts, who would go out of their way to please? How could she possibly be the killer?’

  I nodded, agreeing with him as far as it went.

  ‘You are right. There is something that stinks in this whole case. Not least the involvement of Ko Su-Tsung in its being brought to our attention. We will tread cautiously, but we will find out the truth.’

  I marvelled at how, under Lin’s tutelage, I had become so enamoured of the truth. Maybe such an obsession came with being in your thirties and no longer a youth. Before being appointed Investigator of Crimes by Kubilai Khan, I was more concerned with what gave me the most profit; whether it was within the law or not. In fact I much preferred sailing close to the wind, and then on beyond the boundaries of legality. It made for greater excitement and a lot more pleasure when the enterprise came off. I looked at Tadeusz, who had once more leaned forward into the lamplight. The side of his face burned in the fire set by marauding Mongols was red and shiny, but his eyes were cool and impassive. I slapped his back.

  ‘Now pass me the wine before I start crying like a baby at my own softness.’

  The girl wiped a tear from her eye, and looked through the bars at the boy who stood outside.

  ‘Thank you, Wenbo. You have saved my life. I owe you everything, and I will show you my gratitude when I am released.’

  She accompanied the final sentence of her outpouring with a modest, but meaningful look. After all, it did not harm to promise, when the chances of having to repay that promise were so slim. Still, she had taken the first step, and the flow of yunwas moving in the right direction. The boy had come with the news that very morning that an investigator had been appointed in Tatu, which some called Khan-balik, and that he was on his way. The executioner’s sword had been stayed, and that was what mattered. It was no good to her if she were exonerated after her death. Some may think her soul would be saved, and her reputation restored. But what good was that to her if she was dead and buried?

  The spotty face of Wenbo swam before her eyes, and she once again wiped away the tears of joy. She fixed a smile on her face, and glanced modestly down at the ground.