Murder at the Peking Opera

by Amanda Roberts

  Lady Li knew exactly what life as a young aristocrat was like, but she couldn’t admit to that, not when she was supposed to be playing Wangshu.

  “But why involve me in this?” Lady Li asked. “If Fanhua was blackmailing you, why not just kill him?”

  “Because if you had never come here, never stole the role of the dan, none of this would have happened,” Baoah said. “Women shouldn’t be on the stage. It’s an abomination. If you killed Fanhua, your head would roll and women would never be able to act on stage again.”

  “So you were trying to meet both ends,” Lady Li said. “You wanted to both kill Fanhua and frame Wan…me. Quite clever. You almost got away with it.”

  “Almost,” Baoah said. “But that stupid investigator never arrested you. Why? Did you sleep with him?”

  “I’m not like you,” Lady Li said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Baoah said, pulling a short sword out of her sleeve. “No one will be surprised to find you dead.”

  “Baoah,” Lady Li gasped. “Stop! Don’t do this!”

  Baoah lunged toward Lady Li, who screamed but realized that the audience must not be able to hear her over the orchestra and Changpu’s booming voice.

  Lady Li grabbed a clothing rack and pulled it in front of her. Baoah fell into the clothes, getting tangled up in them. Lady Li pushed the clothes and Baoah away from her, creating a small gap she could escape through, but she had forgotten how heavy the costume was. She wasn’t able to move very quickly, and by the time she reached the door, Baoah was right behind her.

  Lady Li flung the door open just as Baoah lunged at her again. The two of them stumbled into the hallway. Lady Li grabbed Baoah’s wrists and did her best to hold her back, but she lost her balance on her pot-bottom shoes and felt herself fall backward. They both crashed into—and then through—the wall of the hallway and onto the stage.

  Changpu yelped as he jumped out the way. The audience let out a collective gasp. The three other actors playing demons from hell all jumped around like crazed monkeys.

  Lady Li stood up, a little dazed, and straightened her mask and headdress. The audience laughed.

  Baoah stood up and raised her sword. Her eyes bored into Lady Li.

  “Stop this,” Lady Li hissed. “It’s over, you stupid girl!”

  Baoah yelled and charged at Lady Li. With more room to move, Lady Li was no longer so intimidated by Baoah. Lady Li grabbed a lance one of the other actors had been carrying and used it to guard herself from Baoah’s attack. The audience cheered as the two fought.

  Baoah then used all her strength, bringing the sword down as hard as she could, breaking Lady Li’s lance in two. Lady Li stepped back, unsure of what to do. But then someone tapped Baoah on the shoulder. Baoah looked behind her and saw Inspector Gong. The inspector backhanded her hard across the face, sending her to the ground.

  Lady Li was so relieved to see the inspector, she ran across the stage into his arms. The audience clapped. The inspector lifted Lady Li’s mask but held her face in his hands so no one could see who it really was as he kissed her.

  The audience cheered once again as Changpu burst out into a love ballad. Inspector Gong’s men dragged Baoah off the stage. Lady Li and Inspector Gong left the stage through the hole she had created when she fell through the wall.

  “We shouldn’t have done that,” Lady Li said once they were backstage.

  “They will think it was Wangshu,” Inspector Gong said. “It will make a good story for the newspapers tomorrow.”

  “Wait!” Lady Li called out as she saw the inspector’s men taking Baoah away through a back door.

  Baoah still seemed a bit stunned from the blow to her face. She had to blink a few times before she realized who was speaking to her.

  “Lady…Li?” she asked. “What are you doing here? What is happening?”

  “I was only pretending to be Wangshu as we tried to draw out the killer,” Lady Li said. “And you fell right into our trap.”

  “No!” Baoah said. “I…Fanhua…Wangshu…” She flailed as she tried to come up with an excuse. If she revealed that Fanhua had been blackmailing her, her reputation would still be ruined. And everyone in the theater had seen her try to kill “Wangshu.” There was no way for her to save herself.

  “Take her to the Ministry of Justice,” Inspector Gong ordered.

  “I can’t help but feel somewhat sorry for her,” Lady Li said. “Fanhua only used her for her money, even before he started blackmailing her.”

  “Actions have consequences,” the inspector said. “If we try to protect her, Wangshu will pay the price. Someone will have to answer for Fanhua’s death.”

  Lady Li sighed. Had she acted any better? The only difference between Baoah’s affair with Fanhua and Lady Li’s affair with Inspector Gong was that Fanhua kept a record. If anyone learned of Lady Li’s indiscretions, she would have to face the consequences as well.

  Inspector Gong wrapped his arm around Lady Li’s shoulders, but she moved away from him.

  “I should go home,” she said. “Tell Wangshu what happened. She will be anxious to know I am safe.”

  “Of course,” he said, though clearly a bit disappointed.

  “Tomorrow,” she continued, “let us know what will happen to Baoah.”

  He nodded. “Tomorrow, then.”

  20

  Inspector Gong slept soundly for the first time in weeks, and he didn’t feel the need to get up early and rush out of the house. He awoke to the normal sounds of people in his house starting their day and the smell of the servants making breakfast. He looked over and ran his hand over the side of the bed where his wife should be sleeping…whoever she was.

  He knew it would be Swan.

  No matter how much he wished it could be Lady Li he woke up to, he knew it could never happen.

  He could hear his mother barking orders to one of his sisters-in-law and chuckled. As if Lady Li would ever allow a woman—even a mother-in-law—to speak to her like that. For the very fact that Lady Li didn’t have to answer to any other woman was enough for her to never leave her situation. Here, not only would she have to answer to his mother, but his brothers’ wives and even his sisters, until they married out. Lady Li would be at the bottom of the hierarchy in this family. She could never live her life like that.

  Swan, on the other hand, would adjust. She was used to having no rank, no real place in the family. She would thrive in a large family with lots of children and a never-ending list of things to do. And eventually, she would have her own children to care for…he hoped.

  Yes, a wife and children. It was time.

  He sat up and was looking for his slippers when he suddenly heard his sister Daiyu crying. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, but his mother was berating her instead of comforting her.

  Then he remembered that Daiyu was one of the young women who would sneak out to see Fanhua’s performances. A knot formed in his belly as he pulled out Fanhua’s journal and furiously scanned the pages looking for her name. He hadn’t seen it when he looked through the journal before, but he hadn’t considered that he might find it.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t see her name.

  After a moment, he couldn’t hear Daiyu anymore, but there was a small tapping on his door.

  “Enter,” he said, expecting a maid, but was surprised to see his mother poke her head in. “Oh, sorry, Ma,” he said, standing up and offering her a chair.

  “Your room is a disaster,” she said. “I think I raised a pig.”

  He smirked and then took a seat back on the bed. “What’s wrong with Daiyu?”

  His mother grimaced. “That opera singer, the man who dressed like a woman, he is dead. Murdered.”

  He nodded. “She knew about that a few days ago.”

  “Her friend, the Liu girl, was arrested for the crime!” his mother said, concern etched across her brow.

  “I had no idea she knew Baoah,” he said. “But I should have assume
d it was possible when I found out that Daiyu enjoyed the opera. I will apologize to her.”

  “She doesn’t need an apology,” his mother said. “She needs a husband. This family has grown too big for me to manage. Biyu told me that Daiyu has been sneaking out to see the opera performances.”

  Inspector Gong didn’t say anything, but that told his mother all she needed to know.

  “You knew,” she said, shaking her head in disappointment.

  “I didn’t want to worry you—” he started to say, but she raised her hand, cutting him off.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” she said. “But we are lucky her reputation is safe. This could have gone very badly for her, for all of us.”

  He nodded. He should have considered his own sister in all of this…

  “It is time she was married,” his mother continued. “But I need to know your plan first. If you marry Lady Swan, it could…alter Daiyu’s marriage prospects.”

  “In a good or bad way?” Inspector Gong asked.

  “I don’t know,” his mother said, wringing her hands. “I don’t know anyone with a Manchu girl in their family. Some people might only see her as an idle curiosity; others might view mingling with the invaders as a great betrayal to our inheritance.”

  “But most people know our family to be Qing loyalists,” Inspector Gong said. “Baba has worked in the Ministry of Letters for decades. Yeye even—”

  “I know,” his mother said, interrupting. “But this is different. You can’t deny it. Working with the Manchu for money or position is not the same as taking their women to bed. To giving the Manchu more sons.”

  He stood and paced. While he knew that some people outside the family might be offended by his marriage to Swan, he never considered it could cost Daiyu a good match.

  “Would it be better if I don’t wed?” he asked. “Because my position on this has not changed. If I cannot marry Swan, I don’t wish to marry.”

  “An unmarried son is an insult to me and your father,” his mother said. “But it is not an insult to the Han people. Remaining as you are will not change things for Daiyu.”

  “Is that what you want?” he asked. “You would rather I remain single for Daiyu’s sake?”

  His mother held her breath as she stared at her son. What did he think would happen? That he would change his mind and agree to marry a Han girl to keep her from passing out?

  Finally, she blew out her cheeks. “No,” she grumbled. “It doesn’t matter. A daughter is like water on the floor.”

  He was all too familiar with the common belief that investing in daughters—money, education, even affection—was often viewed as a waste since after they were married out, they rarely returned to the home of the birth. But he could see tears pool on the edge of his mother’s eyes and knew that she didn’t really believe this. In fact, Daiyu and Biyu both should already be married. His mother had been delaying in order to keep them with her for as long as possible. They were her last daughters, her last pearls.

  “I could wait to marry Swan until after Daiyu’s marriage, if that would help,” he offered.

  His mother stood up, shaking her head. “No. I just needed to know how set you were on the marriage. If there was any chance of preventing it.”

  “I am sorry to have failed your final test,” he said with a half-cocked smile.

  “My children will be the death of me,” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “As yours will be of you. You will understand. You’ll see!”

  “I’ll tell Lady Li to expect your visit to finalize arrangements,” he said as she left the room.

  But after the humor of torturing his mother wore off, he realized he would need to speak to Lady Li about his marriage to Swan one more time. When they had been alone together in the dressing room, she wanted him. He could feel it in the touch of her hand, the taste of her kiss, in the breaths from her lips. She pushed him away, yes, but only so she wouldn’t insult Swan because she thought he was still going to marry her. Lady Li had called Swan his betrothed. She thought the marriage was a foregone conclusion. But there was still a chance to call it off. His mother had hoped he would choose bachelorhood over marriage. She would still let him walk away.

  He had to give Lady Li one more chance to call off his marriage to Swan.

  * * *

  As Inspector Gong crossed Lady Li’s garden, he saw Lady Li, Wangshu, and Swan all sitting together, chatting and laughing over a pot of tea. At first, he thought he might be intruding, but they all smiled when they saw him.

  “Ladies,” he said, offering them an exaggerated bow.

  “Inspector Gong,” they all said in unison as they rose and gave him a bow in return. Well, Wangshu and Swan bowed; Lady Li only nodded her head.

  “Have a seat,” Lady Li said, motioning toward a pillow next to Wangshu.

  “You all seem to be having an enjoyable morning,” he said as Swan served him tea. He tried to meet her eyes, but she kept them downcast, as was proper.

  “I feel like I can breathe for the first time in days,” Wangshu said. “I can’t wait to go home.”

  “You mean back to the palace?” Inspector Gong asked. “You won’t be returning to the theater?”

  “Never!” Wangshu said. “I have had enough of the opera scene outside the safety of the walls of the Forbidden City.”

  “But what about paving the way for future female opera singers?” he asked. “Isn’t that what this whole exercise was about? What the empress wanted?”

  “I’m not sure the world is ready for female opera singers,” Wangshu said.

  Just then, Lady Li’s daughters ran across the garden, yelling and swinging wooden swords. Second Daughter, though, was much more calculated in her movements, swinging her sword over her head, leaping through the air. First Daughter rushed over and pushed her sister to the ground playfully and then stood over her in triumph. The adults all laughed.

  “Though, maybe I can still focus on training the next generation of female opera performers,” Wangshu said. “Who knows what the future will hold.”

  “You will have to come back and keep giving Second Daughter lessons,” Lady Li said. “She would be devastated if you stopped.”

  “I will,” Wangshu said.

  “What will happen to the young woman you arrested?” Swan asked, and a morose feeling settled over all of them.

  “I remanded her to the Ministry of Justice last night,” the inspector said. “The chief minister said a conviction and sentence would be swift in coming.”

  No one said anything after that. They all knew that the only outcome for Baoah would be death.

  Wangshu stood up. “I am going to go finish packing,” she said. “I am sure my mother is anxious to see me again.”

  They all said their goodbyes and silence fell over them for a moment.

  “I spoke to Dr. Xue on his way out yesterday,” Inspector Gong said to Swan. “He said you had made much improvement.”

  She smiled and dared to look up at him for a quick second before returning her eyes to her teacup. “Yes,” she said. “I am feeling much better. I am not fully healed yet. I am very tired and sometimes…I still have cravings. But I am sure I will be well in time.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” he said.

  She nearly dropped her cup on the table as she fell to her knees before him.

  “I promise I will be a good wife to you,” she blurted out in tears. “I will honor and submit to you and to your honorable mother. I will make sure you never regret marrying me. I will…I will give you sons!”

  “Swan!” Lady Li snapped.

  “O…kay,” he said, gripping her thin forearms in his hands and pulling her to her feet. “Please, calm yourself. I am sure you will be an excellent wife.”

  “Forgive me,” she said, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “I just never thought I would get another chance…”

  “I understand,” he said as he released her arms, hoping she had the strength to hold herself up.<
br />
  “Swan,” Lady Li said firmly. “You should return to your room and wash your face.”

  “Of course,” Swan said. She bowed to them both as she walked away backward, as though she was leaving the presence of the emperor.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Lady Li said. “She has made progress under Dr. Xue’s care, but she has been very emotional lately. I’m not sure—”

  “There is no need to apologize,” Inspector Gong said. “She is both excited and possibly scared. She has met my mother, after all.”

  Lady Li chuckled. “Speaking of your mother, I am surprised she has not requested another meeting. We haven’t finalized arrangements.”

  “I think she was waiting on me,” he said. “I have been so busy with this case, we hadn’t spoken in days.”

  “Waiting on you?” Lady Li asked. “But you had already consented. Why would she need to speak with you again except to inform you about the wedding date?”

  “She…wanted to give me another chance to turn the match down,” he said.

  “Oh…” Lady Li said softly. “And what did you say?”

  The fact that she thought he might have changed his mind about marrying told him that at least a very small part of her hoped he did. Why? Did she think they had any chance of a future together? Perhaps not as husband and wife, but as lovers?

  “I told her I would let her know this afternoon,” he lied. “I…I wanted to check in with you one last time. I will not marry Swan if you tell me not to.”

  “Why must I make the decision?” Lady Li said. “Why is it on my shoulders what you do with your life?”

  “You know why,” he said. “I love you, and I would do whatever you tell me to. I would live as a beggar outside your door if you ordered it of me.”

  “You are a fool,” Lady Li scoffed.

  “Have you ever known a man to be otherwise?” he asked with a grin.

  She shook her head and did her best not to smile back. They stood side by side and looked out over the garden and the children playing.