by Ian Morson
Sun’s face went green, and he began to gasp in deep breaths that stopped him speaking for a while. I put my hand on his shoulder, and squeezed hard.
‘Come now. It is too late to escape your fate. You must tell me everything.’
A squeal emerged from his throat, and then he began to nod vigorously. When he spoke his voice was high pitched, and false.
‘Yes. He insisted on knowing how much was fatal. And I told him. But I had to do it you see. I had to.’
There he faltered and would say no more. It was curious as to why he felt he had to do what the boy had said, but it was no matter now. We had our evidence. Lin began packing away his writing materials, and Tadeusz yanked Sun up from the ground by the rope attached to his wrists.
‘I will take him to the jail right now.’
‘But it’s dark, Tadeusz.’
The little silversmith grinned evilly by the light of the lantern he bore.
‘I don’t think the doctor will try and escape. But if he does, I shall be pleased, for then I can beat him insensible.’
I hoped Tadeusz didn’t mean what he said. But recently he had shown a side to his character that I had not encountered before, and I was no longer certain of his intentions. His fall from grace over spying for Ko had hardened him. I watched as he poked Sun across the courtyard with his stick, causing him to almost stumble due to his hobbled legs. I resolved to reassure Tadeusz when he got back that he didn’t have to go too far in the opposite direction to prove his loyalty to me.
Deep in the night, she sat up, alert to any sound that took place. But the house was as quiet as her cell had been. Located as it was on the edge of town, there were none of the noises that characterized Geng’s old house. No sound of creaking timbers or of scurrying rats disturbed the calm of the night. No sound of neighbours coughing or shuffling feet as old men with weak bladders made for the slop bucket. She crossed her arms over her knees and contemplated her future. She could tell the red-haired Westerner viewed her with some suspicion, not understanding her deeply-ingrained sense of obedience. And the wild, dark-faced native girl also had expected a more emotional reaction to her release. She resolved to give them what they expected in future. That way she would not be closely watched, and she would be free. Yes, she would learn to shed a tear, as she had done when her husband had died. She rose quietly, and walked out into the silent courtyard.
TWENTY-THREE
Of all the stratagems, to know when to quit is the best.
The following morning the sky was bright blue, and Lin and I were optimistic. Today we would obtain Wenbo’s confession – without beating his bare feet to a pulp – and our case would be complete. I was ready quickly, and soon got irritated by Lin’s slow progress. He was fussing around with his papers and castigating Po Ku for not having his writing equipment ready. The poor servant got even more flustered by his master’s badgering, and dropped a brush in the dust of the courtyard. Lin groaned, and told Po Ku to go and wash the brush.
‘It will be no use with grit in it.’
Po Ku ran back indoors to carry out his task, whilst Lin continued to fiddle with his satchel of papers. He was digging through it, obviously trying to find a particular document. I walked over to him.
‘Chu-Tsai what on earth is going on? Why are you so worked up about this? We will have the boy’s confession soon, and everything will be cut and dried.’
Lin sighed deeply.
‘I know. It is all so straightforward from now on, isn’t it? It’s just that I have a small niggle about the detail of that fatal day.’
I knew Lin’s predilection for the fine detail of cases. I thought he got bogged down too often in irrelevant detail and missed the bigger picture. I wanted to tell him so, but suspected that, if I told him to forget it, he would persist even more in his hunt for the worm that was wriggling through his brain. And to be frank, now that he had raised the matter, I recalled there had been something that puzzled me to.
‘We will piece it all together when we interrogate Wenbo. It will come back to you.’
Just then, Po Ku reappeared with the cleaned brush, which he gave to Lin, and we set off for the jail. Tadeusz was left with the task of drafting another report for Ko that would mislead him but still leave him thinking the silversmith was in his pocket.
The message Ko received two days later was read with deep satisfaction. Tadeusz reported that Lin and I had gone out on a limb, pronouncing the girl, known as Jianxu, innocent. This was contrary to the ruling made by the local prefect, Li Wen-Tao, which had been confirmed by Taitemir, the Mongol governor of the district. Ko’s cadaverous face split into what passed for a smile. His plan had worked. When he had seen the petition written by the playwright, Guan Han-Ching, and read the accompanying documents, he could see that the ruling of Li’s court was flawed. So many possibilities had been ignored in the face of the confession wrung out of the girl by the use of the bastinado. Normally, Ko would not have cared. One more innocent girl’s execution would not bring Kubilai’s empire tumbling down. And for him, as the Master of the Censorate, to have a hold over a local official concerning a bad judgement, was invaluable for the future. It was a means of controlling this prefect, Li, should he ever need to. At first he was minded to tear the petition up and consign it to the flames.
But the possibility of destroying Lin Chu-Tsai’s career, along with that of the damned barbarian, had proved too tempting. He had decided to use the petition as a trap to snare them both, knowing they would seek out the truth rather than confirm the original judgement. They couldn’t help themselves as they were too honest for their own good. But if his suspicion that the girl was innocent proved wrong, and his enemies confirmed the judgement after all, Ko had a strategy for that possibility too. Now, it looked as though he would not need it. His enemies had walked straight into the trap he had set according to his tame spy, Tadeusz Pyka. He would destroy Lin and Zuliani, and then that man too, when he no longer had any need of him.
Ko eased out of his hard, upright chair, and called for his servant.
‘I need to make an appointment with the Great Khan.’
Tadeusz’s faked report to Ko Su-Tsung, whilst it did what was required of it, was overtaken by events. Even before it was in his hands – in fact on the very day it was despatched – matters took a strange and unexpected turn. As Tadeusz was writing the message, Lin and I were on our way to obtain Wenbo’s confession. It all now seemed easy, with only the muddy waters of Ko’s possible entrapment to avoid. But I reckoned my corrupting of the prefect would prevent any complaints from the local administration about our overturning his verdict. Li would endorse our conclusions; he would even applaud our uncovering of the truth. A grave miscarriage of justice would be overturned. And Mongol justice – in the safe hands of Lin Chu-Tsai – would be seen to be upheld. Unfortunately, it was not as easy as I had imagined.
The first strange and perturbing thing was a summons from Taitemir, the Mongol governor of the region. It came in the form of a uniformed Mongol on our threshold. He was dressed as a light cavalryman with a quilted blue tunic called a kalat, underneath which he wore grey breeches and thick, laced-up leather boots. A short, but razor-sharp sword was belted at his waist. There was no objecting to his master’s command – the messenger’s stiff and uncompromising presence in the doorway of our house determined that. Lin and I would be seeing Taitemir. The Mongol cavalryman had arrived on horseback, and Lin and I hurried to make two horses ready. Gurbesu watched anxiously on as we left, but did not forget to offer us some advice.
‘Remember. He still may have been one of those guilty of the murder of Old Geng. Ask him about it.’
I knew by ‘him’ she meant Taitemir, and was reminding me that she had said from the beginning that we should question him. It was easy for her to say, though. We might as well have put the Great Khan on the spot for the murder. Besides, hadn’t we solved the case?
The journey took us out of the city towards the river. We knew
that Taitemir’s residence was south of Pianfu, somewhere on the banks of the river. What we did not know until we got there was that it was not a house but a Mongol encampment of gers– the black felt tents of his race – set in a compound of grazing horses, marching soldiers, and perpetual clouds of dust.
The largest tent stood right in the centre of the compound, like a big black spider in the heart of its web. Our Mongol envoy rode us right up to the entrance and we all dismounted. Three boys scurried over to take the horses and lead them away, while the envoy indicated we should wait. He went inside the tent to announce us. The tent flap – a brightly decorated carpet – fell closed behind him, and Lin and I stood and waited. And waited. The dust began to get in Lin’s throat, and he coughed into his hand. I was less genteel, so I hawked and spat my phlegm on to the ground. Finally, the envoy emerged from the tent and waved us over. He stood stiffly to attention, holding the tent flap open, as we bent down and stepped into Taitemir’s ger. I was experienced enough by now about Mongol ways not to step on to the threshold board. To do so was a great insult, and could result in a beating. At the very least. I stepped over it, and turned to the left. That side of the tent was the men’s area, whereas the right was reserved for the women. In our early days in the Mongol empire, Friar Alberoni had persisted in demeaning himself in Tartar eyes by going to stand in the women’s side of the tent. I could never teach him the proper protocol.
Several lamps burned inside the tent, and there was no difficulty in seeing the stocky and imposing figure of the governor, Taitemir. Just as we had seen him at the play in T’ai-Yuan-Fu weeks earlier, he was dressed in the long armoured coat of a heavy cavalryman. Short strips of boiled leather were laid in row upon row, covering the coat from the shoulder to the bottom hem at calf height. Leather boots poked out from under this armoured exterior. He stood at a small table surrounded by several bahadurs, that we in the West would call knights. As we approached the group, not knowing what our reception would be like, he turned to stare at us. That piercing gaze was all too familiar from the evening of the play. I wondered if we were to be taken to task for countermanding his ruling concerning Jianxu. Had we fallen into Ko’s trap already, and would we find ourselves despatched back to Khan-balik in disgrace? Or treated even worse?
The moment it took for Taitemir to recognize us, and remember why we had been summoned, seemed an age. By now the knights were staring at us too, as though we were something to be pitied. Then Taitemir strode over, and with a grunt took each of us by the arm and led us outside his tent. Back in the light of day he squinted at the brightness and looked around at the bustle that was his camp. He sighed deeply, and when he spoke it was in quite sad tones.
‘I know the fashion of the court is now to adopt all things Chin. To live in big houses and have servants waiting upon you hand and foot. And I do have a governor’s palace in T’ai-Yuan-Fu. But at heart I am old-fashioned, and I like being here.’ He waved a hand at the encircling tented encampment. ‘Besides, we shall soon be on the move. You see me preparing for war.’
Lin understood what he meant.
‘The siege of Siang-Yang-Fu?’
He was referring to what everyone had been speculating about for months. Kubilai’s attempts to conquer the southern Song had stalled around the city that Lin mentioned. It was on the banks of the Han river, and without it Kubilai’s efforts would fail. It was said that a young general called Aju was planning to take charge of the siege. It looked like Taitemir was going to be involved too. He scanned the preparations for war again, as though reluctant to tear his mind away from war to discuss the matter he must have brought us here for. But after a long pause, which involved him sucking the ends of his straggly moustache, he got to the point.
‘I believe you have overruled Li Wen-Tao and released this Chin girl.’
Despite my reservations about mixing it with the Mongol, I was prepared to wade in and defend us. But Lin surreptitiously tapped my arm, and spoke instead.
‘My humble apologies for being so crude as to countermand one of your officials, but there did seem to be . . . inconsistencies in his case.’
Taitemir looked hard at Lin.
‘But his decision is effectively my decision. So you are not merely going against the prefect’s ruling, but mine also. And now the Great Khan himself is interested, I understand.’
The atmosphere was getting tense, but I suddenly realized that Taitemir was trying to find a way out of a dirty business that had, like the gunpowder-filled bamboo explosives the Chinee loved, backfired on him. Lin saw it too.
‘What if you were to discover, by your own efforts, that Li Wen-Tao was a corrupt official? Then you could, with a clear conscience, change your ruling.’
‘Is he corrupt?’
Taitemir examined Lin’s face closely, and I held my breath. Lin said nothing, but his face spoke a thousand words. Taitemir’s face broke into a grim smile.
‘Yes, you are right Master . . . er . . . Lin, I haveuncovered evidence of the prefect’s corruption. So his judgement on the girl is clearly flawed. I have suspended the death penalty accordingly until fresh evidence is produced.’
Our relief must have been audible, and Taitemir nodded, also glad to be out of a possible bind himself. He had a couple of points to mention though.
‘You have found the probable murderer in this case, then? You need investigate no further?’
Lin eagerly nodded.
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘Oh, and you can furnish me with the written documentation concerning the corruption I discovered as soon as you like.’
I thought with admiration what a crafty manipulator he was. Our evidence against Li had become his. But it had served its purpose, and we had avoided Ko’s trap, it seemed. With the business out of the way, Taitemir was more relaxed, and he seemed keen to show us the extent of his preparations. He led us over to a curious device of wood and rope. Set on wheels, it was a large frame on which pivoted a long pole. The pole was set off-centre with ropes attached to a T-bar on the short end. The longer end had a sling attached. I recognized it as a siege engine called a trebuchet in the West. Taitemir patted it proprietorially.
‘Of course it can hurl rocks great distances, but we also now use projectiles made of gunpowder packed in a bamboo tube along with broken porcelain. When it explodes the results are devastating.’ He grinned evilly. ‘But even that is not enough. My Chin experts have created a device we call the excrement bomb.’
Lin grimaced in distaste at such an uncouth weapon. But I was interested.
‘What goes into it?’
‘The main ingredient is powdered human shit, croton oil – that blisters the skin on contact – white arsenic, and a sort of beetle that causes blistering. Oh, and aconite. We have heaps of aconite root here.’
TWENTY-FOUR
An ant may well destroy a whole dam.
As Lin and I rode along the grey, stony track that led to the low building that was Pianfu’s prison, we discussed the interview with Taitemir. It had left me with an uneasy feeling.
‘Did you get the impression the governor was relieved we had found a culprit for the murder of Geng?’
Lin tried to be noncommittal, but he knew what I was intimating.
‘You think we should still consider him a possible suspect because of his reaction to our identifying Wenbo as the killer? Are you backing away from that position?’
‘No, no. Wenbo did kill his father. But think what Taitemir said about that dirty bomb. It is to be loaded with aconite. He has mountains of the very poison that killed Geng lying around outside his tent. The agent of the killing could still be Wenbo. The prime mover might have been Taitemir.’
‘Because he owed Geng money? He didn’t care about being indebted to him, Nick. It is a normal state for a Mongol governor to use his position to obtain goods for free.’
I groaned in frustration.
‘You are right. But you know how Kubilai is cracking down on corruption and
building up his bureaucracy. Even the governor in a remote region such as Taitemir might feel he has to clean out his stables before more government officials arrive. Especially with Kubilai’s war-machine shedding light on the governor’s activities. The quiet disposal of a nuisance might have been a better option than the summary one of a slit throat.’
Lin remained unconvinced, but I was prepared to store my misgivings away for another day. Besides, as we approached the prison, I could see signs of unusual behaviour. It was still early morning, but the bulky figure of the prefect, dressed in his blue silk robe, was in evidence already. He was stomping around the compound in front of the cell block, waving an elegant bamboo cane at the cowering gaoler. The door to Wenbo’s cell stood half open, the interior dark and ominous. I murmured to the already shaken Lin Chu-Tsai.
‘I will go ahead and see what has happened. If they have let Wenbo slip through their hands, either deliberately or accidentally, then heads will roll.’
The mood I was in, I meant what I said quite literally. The executioner’s blade had been denied Jianxu – it could be slaked on Li’s blood for all I cared. I spurred my horse up the track towards the two men, who were still squabbling and had not seen my approach. I dismounted and called out.
‘What is going on here?’
Both Li and the gaoler turned to face me, startled by my sudden appearance. The gaoler cowered before the demon, and even Li looked crushed. He could not look me in the eye, and poked at the ground with his silver-topped cane.
‘There is a problem, Master Investigator.’
I was angry, and prodded the prefect in his soft breasts.
‘I hope Wenbo has not escaped, or worse still been deliberately released by you. I have to see him today.’
Li’s face was ashen.
‘Geng Wenbo is still in his cell, and you can see him. But it is going to be impossible to get a confession out of him.’
By this time, Lin, at his horse’s more sedate pace, had caught me up.
