by Ian Morson
‘Yes. Or at least I fear so. And that she did it because I would have killed him otherwise for all his violent acts against her. That’s why I feel guilt about his death even now.’
Alberoni patted my arm comfortingly.
‘Then set your mind at rest. You were a child when Agostino died, and you saw the world through childish eyes, if I may speak plainly. And despite their stormy relationship, your mother always loved your father. And he loved her in return.’
I did not like what I was hearing from Alberoni. I had long convinced myself that my father was a brute and deserved to die violently. But I was aware that the friar had been the confessor to the Zulianis for many years. When I was a child, he had seemed a very old man, and yet now he looked no older than fifty. I realized he must have been quite young back then.
‘Then who did kill him? And why?’
‘As ever in these matters, it was over money. Do you recall Guido Sarpi? He was a cousin of yours.’
I frowned, trying to remember those long-ago times.
‘I remember a tall man with a trim beard, who used to play rough games with me.’
‘That is the man. I think he had been a suitor of Rosamund’s before your father stole her away. He visited Agostino more often than his family relationship warranted, probably because he was not able to give up his interest in her. Then one day he formed a colleganzawith your father.’
Alberoni used the familiar word describing the sort of business partnership that many Venetian merchants entered into with each other. I myself had pulled together many a colleganzato fund my enterprises. Often they worked, and the partners walked away with the spoils. Sometimes they failed, and were the cause of acrimony and argument over what had been lost.
‘Sarpi and my father lost money?’
‘Yes. And Guido accused Agostino of cheating, making a profit and stealing the proceeds all for himself. The argument got quite heated, and Sarpi stormed out threatening vengeance. I thought he had cooled off because it was weeks before . . . Agostino’s death.’
‘But I recall my mother and father arguing on the day before his death. That is what convinced me it was all to do with her.’
‘Yes, I think your mother, typically, was trying to pour oil on the troubled waters of his dispute with his cousin. But Agostino would have none of it.’ He sighed. ‘You know how pig-headed your father was. After all, you have inherited that trait of his.’
In other circumstances I would have berated the friar for suggesting I had inherited anything from my father. Least of all an unwelcome character trait. But tonight I wanted to learn the truth.
‘You think Sarpi poisoned my father?’
‘I know so. An anonymous denunciation was made against him. He was arrested a few days later, tortured and confessed in the Doge’s prison. He was executed for his deed.’
Once again, torture and confession reared their ugly heads.
‘Why did I never learn of this?’
‘I suppose your mother did not want you – a child – to be tainted with the sordid nature of the matter. Family killing family over money and possessions. She did it for the best of reasons, I am sure. It is a shame that it left you for all these years with a false picture of your father. And your mother. Now I must say goodnight. I am dog-tired after a long journey to get back here.’
I waved a hand, and watched the friar drag his exhausted limbs across the courtyard and into the room that had been set aside for him. Slowly my wine-befuddled mind began to turn over everything that had been said that evening. Of family disputes over money, and of Prester John’s knights, who had planned a long-term strategy to achieve what they wanted. Gradually, a picture began to emerge out of the threads we had left hanging when Alberoni burst into our conversation earlier concerning Old Geng’s death, and that of his son. I knew what I had to do, and realized I would have a busy night ahead of me. There would be no time for sleep.
TWENTY-SIX
Have a mouth as sharp as a dagger, but a heart as soft as tofu.
Imust have fallen asleep at some point, because Lin woke me in the morning. He looked perturbed, in so far as he was able in that reserved way of his. His eyes shone at least, even if his face showed calm. I shrugged his hand off my arm and tried to turn over and reach for Gurbesu. But the other side of the bed was empty, so I assumed it was later than I thought. Gurbesu was an early riser usually. Lin was insistent, however.
‘Nick, you must get up. Doctor Sun has escaped.’
This got my attention and I groaned, levering myself upright. I dragged open a bleary eye.
‘Escaped, you say? How is that possible?’
‘The gaoler is drunk and must have forgotten to lock the cell door properly after he took Sun his food in the evening.’
By now I was fully alert.
‘What were you doing at the prison so early?’
Lin looked a little rueful.
‘I found some aspects of his story that you retold last night too fanciful for my liking.’
He meant, in his own polite way, that he hadn’t believed me. Or at least my interpretation of Sun’s story. I was not offended – it was a strange tale.
‘Go on.’
‘I thought that if I could speak to him in the cold light of day I might get closer to the truth. There are aspects of the day of Old Geng’s death that still worry me. Things that don’t fit together.’
I was going to ask him what he meant, but he hurried on with his recounting of the events of that morning.
‘When I got to the prison, I could see that one of the doors was ajar. I just assumed at first that it was Wenbo’s cell that had been left open after his body had been removed. As I had been with you when we found him dead, I should have remembered which cell it was, and which was the doctor’s. Under the mistaken impression that the doctor would be tucked up safely in his cell, I looked in each of the other ones. But they were all empty, save for the last one in the row. And that housed a fat, young man who stunk of rice wine and was snoring. He was clearly sleeping off a drunken rampage that had resulted in him being thrown into the cell. Anyway, it was not Doctor Sun. I went back to the open cell and saw a lamp still burning on an upturned log. I remembered about your kindness over Sun’s fear of the dark, and realized this was his cell. So I went in search of the gaoler, only to find him in a stupor with a jug of wine beside his bed. His keys had been discarded on the floor.’
Lin was unusually angry at the turn of events, and I could understand why. If Sun had absconded, our last witness had gone, and our case lay in tatters again. But I still had other plans to bring the matter to a satisfactory conclusion. In the meantime it would do no harm for Lin to occupy himself with hunting down the doctor.
‘Go to Li Wen-Tao, Chu-Tsai. Throw your weight about, and get him to allocate some of his resources to finding the doctor. Ultimately, it was his responsibility for ensuring the safe imprisonment of Sun. He will suffer if the man is not found again.’
Lin stopped his pacing of my room and calmed a little.
‘You are right. It will be the end of his lacklustre career if he can’t find him. I will do what you suggest right away.’
He left my bedroom to go and harass the prefect, giving me the chance to get dressed. And select a sharp dagger to stick in the belt of my Mongol coat. I was sure I was going to need it as matters came to a head. I next went in search of Gurbesu, who had undertaken to look after Jianxu. Finding her wasn’t difficult as she was sitting snoozing in the courtyard catching the rays of the weak autumn sun. As I approached, she opened one eye and squinted at me. She couldn’t help but notice my dagger and gave it a pointed look.
‘Are you expecting trouble, Nick?’
‘Sun has escaped. The gaoler was drunk.’
She stood up abruptly, knowing what the loss of our only witness meant to me.
‘That is a disaster. But you can’t expect any trouble from his quarter, can you? He will be halfway to the south by now, if he has any s
ense.’
I nodded in agreement.
‘I suppose so, but there is no harm in being cautious.’ I looked around. ‘Is Jianxu safe?’
Gurbesu indicated with a thumb pointed over her shoulder that Jianxu was safely closeted in the small room at the rear of the house.
‘Yes. Should Sun have any reason to seek her out, he will have to come past me. But why worry about him? You don’t think he is the killer, do you? I mean, if it was the same person who killed both Old Geng and Wenbo, then it couldn’t be him. He was locked in the next cell when the boy was killed. And, according to his testimony that you retold to us last night, he was in fear of his own life.’
‘You’re right. It’s not him I am really worried about. It’s . . .’
I thought I saw a movement from the direction of Jianxu’s room, and moved Gurbesu away a little.
‘It’s Madam Gao.’
Maybe I said it too loud, I couldn’t be sure, but the slim figure I assumed was Jianxu slipped back into the shadows as I said the name. Gurbesu was surprised, but not extremely so.
‘After we talked with the friar last night, I fell to thinking about what you had said.’
‘What about?’
‘The Devil being the only one who could have killed Wenbo, as no human agency could have gained entry to the cell. I kept wondering if someone could have done it from outside, but couldn’t see how. Now you tell me that Sun escaped because the gaoler was drunk, the whole business seems a lot easier to explain. Doors left open and keys discarded. Madam Gao may be an old lady, but she is a very determined one, and Wenbo lived in fear of her. Do we know where she is now?’
‘I would assume she is still at the Geng household. That’s where I would look.’
‘Do you want me to go and see if she is there?’
‘No.’ I stopped Gurbesu from getting up with a restraining hand on her arm. ‘I can do that later. Anyway, you look tired, you should rest.’
She sighed, and fell back into her chair.
‘I am tired. I stayed awake thinking about the case and waiting for you to come to bed. Where were you, anyway? And when did you get to bed? I must have fallen asleep before you returned.’
I waved a hand desultorily in the air.
‘Ohhh, I spoke to Alberoni for a long time about my family and Venice. We talked until the early hours. You get some rest and I will deal with the case. I have a feeling it will all resolve itself today.’
She closed her eyes and I tiptoed away.
When I returned to our temporary quarters, Lin was there too. Seeing me walk in the courtyard, he hurried over.
‘Li’s men are scouring the countryside for Sun. Let us hope they will turn him up before long.’
‘Indeed.’
‘But there is something more important I want to talk to you about.’
‘And what is that?’
‘I have worked out what has been bothering me for almost a week now. It’s about the day of Old Geng’s murder. I had it fixed in my mind when we interrogated Madam Gao in the kitchen that day. Then we got sidetracked by the sudden appearance of the beggar.’
I remembered the conversation. It had been my obsession with the beggar that had overridden a clue Lin had winkled out, and then made him forget it. I felt guilty about it.
‘And what have you uncovered?’
‘I have been going over the sequence of events as we now know it. Jianxu was cooking a broth for Madam Gao in the kitchen. The old lady herself was in the eastern range of rooms feeling unwell. Old Geng was closeted in the western range trying to make his accounts add up, and we presume his son, Wenbo, was also close by. But Doctor Sun had been summoned by an anonymous letter that threatened to expose him for attacking the old lady. We can assume that it was sent by Wenbo, because when Sun arrived dressed as a beggar, he was met by the boy. He gave or sold him the aconite, and when Nu saw them together, Wenbo pretended to kick the beggar out. Do you agree with me so far?’
I think I knew where Lin was going with this, because the same inconsistency had come back to me. But I did not want to spoil his triumph. I merely nodded.
‘Go on.’
‘Then we come to the difficult part. At some point, Jianxu left the kitchen. We know that because Wenbo admitted as much. At that point, anyone could have laced the broth with poison. Wenbo, Madam Gao, or Sun in the guise of a beggar, could all have done it. I exclude Old Geng because he ended up eating the broth, which he would not have done if he had poisoned it intending to kill Madam Gao. Whatever his motive might have been for that.’
I could hold back no longer and worked out where this led Lin to.
‘So you think either Madam Gao was the target, which means Sun or Wenbo put the poison in the broth in order to kill her. Madam Gao is excluded here as she would not have poisoned her own soup. Or one of the three – Gao, Sun or Wenbo – poisoned the broth and arranged for it to be fed to Geng. Madam Gao is not excluded by that possibility, of course.’
‘But there is a stumbling block.’ Lin had seen it, just as I had at last. ‘How did the soup get taken to Old Geng instead of Madam Gao?’
I pointed out what Jianxu had told Gurbesu.
‘Jianxu said Old Geng took it from her. An act of greed that had fatal consequences.’
Lin would not leave it there, however. He was like a dog shaking a rat until it was dead.
‘But the boy said his father did not leave his office. He was quite sure of that. So how could Geng have taken the soup? Now, what if Jianxu was lying? To protect Madam Gao, as she had done when she confessed in order to save the old lady from being tortured? If she thought Madam Gao had poisoned the soup, and then told her to feed it to Geng, her sense of duty might have been enough to cause her to lie to protect her.’
I had another theory, but agreed Lin’s could be right. Before I could say anything about my own ideas however, Lin turned and walked to the door.
‘There is only one way to check the truth or otherwise of all this. Where is Jianxu now?’
I confessed I didn’t know.
‘The last time I saw her was when the friar came back last night. We were all so engrossed in his story, I am afraid we must have left Jianxu out a little. I saw her look in on us and then retire. I presumed she went back to her room. I will go and ask Gurbesu.’
When I found Gurbesu, and asked her about the girl, she went to the small room at the back of the house that she had selected for Jianxu. Its location meant she could keep an eye on her, like a big sister. But Jianxu wasn’t there – she had gone.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Clear conscience never fears midnight knocking.
Once we had searched the rest of the house to be sure Jianxu was not elsewhere, Lin began to get concerned.
‘What if she has gone back to Madam Gao? If what I suspect is true, and the old lady is at the heart of all this, Jianxu’s life may be in danger.’
I tried to calm him down.
‘Don’t worry so much, Chu-Tsai. I think I can prevent that from happening. You can leave it to me.’
He didn’t look convinced, but I insisted he stayed at the house.
‘You too, Gurbesu.’
She was about to protest, but I put up both my hands, palms out, to stop her.
‘I can deal with this. You should both be here if Jianxu returns.’
Gurbesu looked at me with those dark, penetrating eyes of hers.
‘This is like your scheme to incriminate the prefect in an illegal scam, isn’t it? I thought you were doing it on the side to make money for yourself at first. But it was all about sucking Li into something that you could use against him later. You’ve known for some time who the killer is, and you’ve set another scheme up to trap her.’
I gazed modestly at the ground, though I was in fact very pleased with myself. But I knew it was hard to hide things from Gurbesu.
‘Well, I wouldn’t say I’ve known for some time, but you are right, I do intend to catch her.’
&nb
sp; I left them both uncertain and worried and crossed the courtyard, easing loose the dagger I had stuffed in my belt when I had got up that morning. I needed some reassurance, in case my plans went wrong. Jianxu’s disappearance had accelerated the situation, and I had to hurry. The conclusion of this vexed case was in sight, but the threads were unravelling faster than I might have wished.
I strode through the back alleys of Pianfu in my desire to avoid the bustle of horses and sedan chairs on the main highways. The delicate twanging of tuning forks signalled the presence of travelling barbers ready to serve their customers. As I passed one side street, I heard the clatter of copper bowls and knew that a water seller was close by. I found that noise and the cries of street vendors a comforting and familiar sound after well nigh five years in Cathay. Was I settling down here? Would I stay, and live my life out amongst the Chinee and Mongols? I liked my life, but Venice and Caterina Dolfin always came back to haunt me. And the boy who was my son. It was strange, but thinking of him brought me back to Madam Gao, Jianxu and the task in hand. I suppose I was reminded because the girl had lost her father, and lived her life under the watchful and heartless eye of Madam Gao. My son had no father to bring him up, either. Would it affect him as it seemed to have done Jianxu? I hoped not.
The Geng household was now just ahead of me. I approached it cautiously, peering through the gate at the apparently deserted courtyard. Where was Madam Gao? And had Jianxu come here after all?
She had crept into the house keeping to the shadows cast by the afternoon sun on the far side of the courtyard. It had proved easy to slip away from the supervision of the Kungurat woman. After all, she had long experience of sneaking away from the old lady now and then. And she had been much more watchful than Gurbesu. She felt no sorrow about leaving them. Despite all their shows of friendship towards her, when that black crow of a Christian priest had arrived, she had dropped completely out of their minds. When she had looked in on their revelry, only the red-haired man had noticed her presence. And he had only engaged her look for a moment before returning to the conversation with the priest. And his fondling of Gurbesu’s thigh. The dark-skinned Kungurat had ignored her completely, revealing how false her concern for Jianxu had really been. In a way, she couldn’t blame them. From a child she had been brought up to be silent unless spoken to, and subservient to all men in her family, and that of her husband. Madam Gao was a tyrant, and she did her every bidding. So why would the rowdy and undisciplined foreigners even notice her? She was to them no more than the pile of documents that represented her case to them.
