EQMM, August 2007

by Dell Magazine Authors

"Ives—” I started.

  But Clare was already responding. “About twenty miles along this road, at a place called Chen Jiay. He has a house originally used by the provincial governor. Be careful. He's guarded by a legion of archers."

  * * * *

  Our driver knew the way to Chen Jiay, though at first he was reluctant to take us there. “Hsun is a bad man, a tyrant, a warlord. One day the government will decide he has gone too far and stamp him out like a flea. Until then he rules the countryside with his archers."

  "We'll handle him,” Ives said decisively, displaying the sort of aggressiveness she usually reserved for our bedroom. She'd shaken off any drowsiness she'd felt earlier.

  The provincial governor's house was the largest in the village, with a pair of bronze elephants guarding the main entrance of the two-story structure. The archers we'd been warned about were clearly in evidence and one even threaded an arrow to his bowstring as our car came to a stop. “You wait here with Chen Yi,” I told Ives.

  "Are you kidding? This was my idea. I'm coming along.” She picked up the package and exited the car ahead of me, her long legs outpacing me up the steps of the house.

  The guards hesitated to shoot. One of them merely grabbed her arm as she passed. “No come here!” he screeched in very broken English, followed by a burst of Mandarin neither of us understood.

  "We've come to see Lord Hsun,” I told him. “He is expecting us.” I produced one of our business cards, knowing he'd be unable to read it.

  The archer stuffed the card into his belt and motioned us to step forward. He frisked each of us thoroughly and quickly, though perhaps lingering longer than necessary on Ives's shapely curves. Then he motioned us down a corridor. Other than a faint scent of incense in the air, we might have been walking into a town hall somewhere in America. A Chinese woman greeted us at the entrance to Lord Hsun's office and asked us to state our business.

  That was when Ives took over. “We have a package to deliver to Dr. Niles Brandon. We understand he is here with Lord Hsun and we demand to see him. It is a matter of urgent business."

  She picked up the telephone and said a few quick words, listened, and gave a brief reply. “Follow me."

  If we expected a rural Chinese warlord to be seated upon a throne, we were disappointed. He was tall and slender, with a moustache that drooped down the sides of his mouth, and he wore a fancy embroidered robe, but otherwise he might have been any businessman surrounded by filing cabinets and books. I looked in vain for a computer screen. If he had one, it was elsewhere. “I am Lord Hsun,” he announced in passable English, but made no motion toward shaking our hands. “You desire to see me on urgent business?"

  I produced another of our business cards, which he seemed to read without difficulty. “You are Stanton?” he inquired, and turned to Ives. “You are his wife?"

  "His partner,” she corrected. “We must see Dr. Brandon to deliver this package of medication into his hands."

  "Sit down,” he said, motioning us to chairs. “This matter must be discussed."

  "No discussion necessary!” Ives insisted. “We deliver the medication into Dr. Brandon's hands and our driver takes us back to Beijing Airport. That's all!"

  "It is not that simple,” Hsun told us. “Dr. Brandon is my prisoner here."

  "Prisoner?"

  "He has been stealing rare china-blue vases from my collection. I had no choice but to arrest him."

  "If what you say is true, it's a job for the local authorities,” I told him.

  Lord Hsun smiled. “I am the local authority."

  "At least let us see him."

  His narrow eyes shifted to the package Ives was carrying. “What is in that?"

  "Medical supplies, sent by courier from the United States."

  "I will take those. If they are what you say, I may let you see the doctor."

  "The package will be delivered to him personally,” I said in my most authoritative voice. “That is the purpose of a courier service. He must sign for it."

  "And I give the orders here,” he said, his tone growing less friendly by the minute. “That is the purpose of the warlord.” He gestured toward the books on the shelf behind his desk. “I have read about Genghis Khan and Fu Manchu."

  "Fu Manchu was a fictional character,” Ives pointed out. “He wasn't real."

  "But I am real.” He stood up behind his desk. “Enough talk. Bring your parcel and we will visit Dr. Brandon together."

  As we followed him down a sloping passage that seemed to lead underground, with two archers bringing up the rear, I began to suspect we'd end up in a torture chamber. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” Ives whispered to me, and almost at once let out a scream as something darted from the darkness above our heads.

  "It is only a bat,” Hsun explained, as if that would calm her. “Bats are a sign of good luck in China."

  "Not for me, they're not! Let's get out of here, Stanton."

  But we had reached our destination at the bottom of the ramp. Hsun motioned to one of his men and a door was unlocked. A bearded man with shaggy hair and horn-rimmed glasses looked up as we entered. Though his cell had no windows, it seemed comfortable enough, with a good-sized bed, lounge chair, desk, and adjoining bathroom. The only item of possible torture was a large picture of Lord Hsun that adorned one wall. I recognized now that his drooping moustache was in the Fu Manchu style, no doubt a result of his reading the Sax Rohmer novels in his bookcase.

  "I have brought you visitors,” he announced to his prisoner. “They are here to deliver a parcel to you."

  "Dr. Brandon?” I asked, extending my hand in greeting. “We're couriers from the United States. I'm Walt Stanton and this is Juliet Ives."

  "I'm pleased to receive visitors of any sort,” he told us. “I seem to be a prisoner here."

  I turned to Hsun. “Could we speak to him alone?"

  "That will not be possible. I must personally inspect this parcel you are delivering."

  "It's only medication."

  "Then open it."

  I ignored the order and handed the parcel to Dr. Brandon. “If you will just sign for this, we can be on our way."

  "Certainly.” He scrawled his name on the receipt and was reaching for the package when Ives suddenly stopped him.

  "Wait! How can we be certain this is really Dr. Brandon?"

  It seemed like a foolish question, but she had a point. How could we be certain? Was this all some sort of a trick concocted by Hsun to gain the contents of our package? “Do you have any proof of your identity?” I asked. “A passport, maybe?"

  "Not with me. I have one back at my house, which also serves as our small clinic. If you came from there you must have met my assistant, Clare Marvell. She can vouch for my identity."

  "Then we'll have to go back there,” Ives decided.

  But Lord Hsun would not hear of it. “You stay, the package stays. I will send someone for the woman."

  "It would be easier if you simply released the doctor and we returned to his house,” I suggested.

  But the would-be warlord shook his head. “There is the matter of some stolen china-blue vases. And one of my men who died."

  "You'd better explain that to us."

  "Very well.” Hsun took a seat in the armchair while Ives and Brandon and I sat on the edge of the bed. “The good doctor has been treating me for a variety of minor ailments. He comes here frequently, and of late I have been troubled by the disappearance of certain small china-blue vases from my private collection. They are very old and very valuable. I assigned one of my personal archers, Teo, to search Dr. Brandon's black bag when he left. They fought, and Teo was injured in the fracas. He died a few hours later."

  Brandon shook his head sadly. “I had no intention of harming him. I tried to save him, but it was impossible without hospital facilities."

  "You must be punished,” Hsun insisted. “Teo was a mere boy, only seventeen years old."

  "That's for the courts to decide,�
� I said.

  "I am the court here,” he replied, and I could see little point in arguing with him.

  "Did he have a family?” Ives asked.

  "No one but me,” the warlord answered. “Teo has been with me since he was eleven. He was like a son."

  Dr. Brandon snorted. “So much like one that he sold Teo's body to Yang Yuxing, the traveling funeral director."

  "You did what?" Ives was aghast at the thought.

  "No wonder you're holding the doctor a prisoner,” I said. “You wouldn't want him spreading the word about your heartlessness."

  "The boy deserves a companion after death, and Yang Yuxing will provide one.” He motioned toward the parcel. “Now open the package, Dr. Brandon."

  "We still need proof of his identity,” I said.

  Brandon suddenly remembered. “I have an American driver's license with my photograph. Will that do?"

  "Let's see it."

  Ives and I examined the California license and decided it seemed authentic. She handed over the package, but Brandon seemed in no hurry to open it. He placed it on the floor by his bed. “I'll look at it later,” he told us.

  But Hsun had other ideas. “I am most curious about this package. You will open it now."

  I had to admit that Ives and I were curious too, but we weren't about to force the issue. I waited to see what would happen. “No,” the doctor told him. “I will open it when I am alone."

  Hsun called in the archer who stood guard in the hall. “If he does not open the package by the time I count three, put an arrow in his chest."

  The archer pulled an arrow from his quiver and fitted it into the bowstring. “You won't kill me,” Brandon said with confidence. “Where would you find another doctor to replace me? I'm keeping you alive. The Chinese government would probably send someone to poison you."

  Hsun thought about that. Then he issued his order. “If he does not open it, do not shoot him. Shoot the woman instead."

  "Wait a minute!” I shouted, jumping to my feet. “Any arrow aimed at her will have to pass through me first!"

  Dr. Brandon sighed and held up a hand. “I have caused one death here already. I cannot be responsible for another. I will open the parcel.” He tried to tear the packing tape, which seemed a bit thicker than I remembered, then requested a knife. Hsun obliged with a dagger he wore beneath his robe, and I held my breath as the wrappings fell away, already pretty certain the mysterious package did not contain medical supplies.

  Hsun's eyes widened in disbelief as the final wrappings fell away, revealing stacks of neatly cut white paper, the bundles held together with rubber bands. He lifted one and flipped through the packet, but the sheets were all blank. It was nothing but white copy paper, cut into strips.

  "What is this?” he demanded of the doctor. “Who hires couriers to fly halfway around the world with a package full of blank paper?” He frowned at it some more. “Does it have invisible writing?"

  "I'm sure I don't know,” Brandon replied, seeming as perplexed as the rest of us.

  "You could try heat or lemon juice,” I suggested. “That might make any writing visible."

  Hsun handed a packet of the paper to his guard and spoke quickly in Mandarin. “We wait,” he said.

  The guard returned within ten minutes, bearing several scorched sheets of paper and others damp with lemon juice. Neither technique had produced results. The paper was still blank.

  "What were you expecting in the package?” I asked Brandon.

  A shrug. “Medical supplies."

  "No wonder we weren't stopped by airport security or customs. Nothing showed up on the X-rays.” Ives had gone into one of her deep-thinking modes that I knew so well. “Tell me one thing, Lord Hsun. When Dr. Brandon tussled with young Teo and accidentally wounded him fatally, were any of those china-blue vases found in his black bag?"

  "No,” the warlord admitted. “He had nothing but medical supplies. I cannot understand why he fought with Teo if he was innocent."

  "I suppose Chesterton would call it a paradox,” Ives told him.

  "Who?” Hsun asked, puzzled.

  "Chesterton. He was a contemporary of Sax Rohmer, though Father Brown and Fu Manchu never met."

  "Ives,” I said with some exasperation, “what in hell are you talking about?"

  "Dr. Brandon resisted the search because he didn't want his innocence discovered."

  Ives refused to explain more until Hsun freed Dr. Brandon and allowed him to return to his house. There she promised to produce the stolen vases and explain why anyone would pay us to fly halfway around the world to deliver a package of blank paper. I was surprised when Hsun agreed to this, but less surprised when he announced he would be accompanying us with a trio of his archers.

  Ives and I took Dr. Brandon in our car, with a nervous Chen Yi driving. He adjusted his rearview mirror to keep an eye on the warlord's large black limousine that followed close behind. “This man is a killer,” he warned us. “He shows no mercy."

  "He's a pussycat,” Ives countered. Dr. Brandon said nothing.

  It wasn't until we were almost back at the doctor's house that I realized a third vehicle had joined our procession. It was Yang Yuxing's hearse, no doubt still looking for bodies.

  * * * *

  Clare saw us coming and appeared in the doorway to greet us. She gave Brandon a heartfelt hug. “I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

  "These folks got me out, but Hsun treated me well. He's concerned about the disappearance of those vases and Miss Ives here told him she would recover them if he freed me."

  Clare stared hard at Ives. “How do you expect to accomplish that?"

  "It shouldn't be difficult. Let's wait until Lord Hsun comes in.” Already we could see him exiting the black limousine, accompanied by his archers.

  "They must wait outside,” I told Hsun as he entered, and he didn't argue. The archers took up positions near the road, as if guarding us from Yang Yuxing's hearse that had just pulled up.

  When Dr. Brandon, Clare, Hsun, and I were seated, Ives took up her Charlie Chan position in the center of the room. “Two things seem to have disappeared in this area recently,” she began. “First we should consider several small china-blue vases taken from Lord Hsun's personal collection. He accused Dr. Brandon of taking them, and held him captive, but there were no vases in the doctor's black bag when it was searched. If he was not the thief, why did he offer resistance to the search and get himself held prisoner? We know that Clare Marvell often accompanied Brandon on his visits to Hsun. The only explanation for the doctor's resistance was to protect his assistant by throwing suspicion on himself. Where are the missing vases, Clare?"

  "I don't—” she began, but Dr. Brandon interrupted her.

  "There's danger here, Clare. Tell the truth."

  She sighed and got to her feet. “All right. I only took three of them. They were such lovely little things and I didn't think he'd miss them.” She walked to one of the cabinets and opened it, removing three small objects wrapped in plastic.

  Hsun made a hissing sound as he expelled his breath. He rose to accept the vases from Clare, unwrapping each in turn to examine it. “Are those your property, in good condition?” Ives asked.

  "Yes,” he replied.

  "That's one mystery solved, and quite easily. Now we turn to the package Stanton and I carried over here from America. Can we really believe we were paid to transport bundles of blank paper? Of course not! Somewhere along the line a substitution was made. It seemed to be the same package we brought here, although I noticed that the wrapping tape seemed wider.” I nodded, aware of the same thing. “Was it possible a switch had been made somewhere along the way? I'd brought the parcel over in my carry-on bag and was ready to swear it had been in Stanton's or my possession the entire time. But had it really been?"

  "Of course!” I insisted. “It was never out of our sight."

  "Except...” Ives began. “Except when we first arrived here this morning. I placed
the package on the desk over there. I was trying to use my cell phone to call back to the States and went outside. Then Clare told Stanton there was no reception here and Stanton had to come to the door and tell me. Neither of us had our eyes on the package."

  Clare Marvell snorted. “Do you think I stole that too, along with the vases?"

  "That's exactly what I think."

  "It was only out of your sight for a few seconds. How could I have made up a duplicate package and switched them in that instant?"

  "I asked myself that, and there's only one possible answer. The duplicate parcel was prepared in advance, with the hope that you'd be able to switch them. And that means this wasn't the first parcel. It might have been the first that Stanton and Ives delivered, but there had been earlier, identical packages. There's no other way you could have fashioned so exact a duplicate."

  "Wait a minute,” I objected. “What if our package had been different?"

  "Then she wouldn't have made the switch. I think she only did it because she feared the doctor wouldn't return alive and we'd take the parcel back to America with us."

  "What did it contain?” Hsun asked.

  "Certainly Dr. Brandon and Clare know what it contained. The clue to that was in the bundles of blank paper. Clare wouldn't have replaced medical supplies with paper because we would have noticed the difference in weight. She replaced paper with paper. The parcel contained paper money, almost certainly American currency in large denominations. Hundred-dollar bills would be my guess. Of course we didn't declare the package and nothing showed up in the X-rays. Chinese customs might have made us open it, but they just felt around in my carry-on and let us through."

  Dr. Brandon cleared his throat. “The money was for medical supplies. Our clinic here is supported by an American charity."

  "It's time to open it up,” I told Clare. “Let's see this mysterious money that couldn't be transferred any other way."

  I expected her to return to the same cabinet where she'd kept the china-blue vases, but instead she walked to the waste basket beneath the desk. She'd dropped it in there during the substitution and it was as good a hiding place as any. She handed it not to me but to Brandon, who quickly opened it. “You made a good guess, young lady,” he told Ives. “Hundred-dollar bills, ten thousand dollars in each packet and a hundred thousand in all."