A Deadly Injustice (6 page)

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Authors: Ian Morson

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Historical, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #China - History - Song Dynasty; 960-1279, #Zuliani; Nick (Fictitious Character), #Mystery & Detective, #Murder - Investigation, #Mongols, #Murder, #China, #Investigation, #Mystery Fiction, #Crime

BOOK: A Deadly Injustice
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‘Forgive me my little petty triumph. I like the idea of sitting on Ko, and arranged for his emblem to be sewn into the fabric of this cushion. He saw it soon after I obtained it, and I think it puzzled and pleased him at the same time. He does not know how I employ the cushion.'
I laughed.
‘You can fart on it for all I care, Chu-Tsai.'
Lin grimaced at my Western coarseness, and motioned for me to sit opposite him. I dropped inelegantly down on to the other bench. I still could not get used to the lowness of all the furniture in Cathay. Benches and tables had legs no taller than the little dwarf dogs they were fond of breeding here. I yearned for a good, long-legged hunting hound, and a similarly shaped Venetian chair to lounge in. Grovelling on the floor was not conducive to action, if a swift exit or an attack was required. Lin reached across the table and picked up the stack of documents that had accompanied him in the carriage.
‘We must go on looking for a way of extricating ourselves from our dilemma. I have studied the paperwork associated with the case of Jianxu time and time again, but I cannot see where the chink in the armour is located.'
I held up a finger to emphasize what I was about to say, and he looked at me expectantly.
‘Then we must turn our examination away from the case, and towards the magistrate and his Mongol overlord.'
‘In what way?'
‘They have to be corruptible in some way or other. All officials are.' I was suddenly aware of a red flush covering Lin's face, and hastened to correct my error. ‘Except for you, old friend. You are the exception that proves the rule. And it is why you are lucky to have me.'
‘Why is that, my little demon?'
‘Because I am as corruptible as any official, so I can guess what their actions might be before they have even thought of them themselves.'
It came to mind that the last time I pulled a fast one on a Mongol – Mongotai – in the bar in Khan-balik, I had needed to flee pretty quickly afterwards. I decided I would not like to try and outwit the Mongol governor who ran the district in which we were travelling. I might not live to tell the tale. But the prefect was another matter. I decided the Chinee magistrate was the best bet for leaning on.
‘Do we know anything about him? The judge in this case?'
Lin rifled through the papers, extracting a paper roll. He unfurled it.
‘He is called Li Wen-Tao. And I do have some information on him.' He read in silence for a few moments. ‘This is interesting. He is a man of middle years, who should by now be in a higher position, I would say.'
‘Good. Then he has got a secret vice that holds him back, and even if he hasn't, we can seduce him into one. Then turn it round against him.'
I rubbed my hands together, eager for the challenge.
‘I am beginning to like this case already.'
‘Good. And tonight by way of relaxation you will enjoy a play onstage in the square.'
I grimaced, thinking of the simple miracle plays with their religious and moralizing themes I had seen in Venice. They did not appeal at all. Lin, on the other hand, seemed quite excited by the prospect.
‘You will enjoy it, Nick. The theatre is very popular in Cathay, and the plays tell all sorts of stirring tales, including what we call strip and fight thrillers. Sword against sword, or mace against mace. But tonight it is a different sort, and an appropriate play for us –
kung-an
.'
‘
Kung-an
?'
He winked knowingly.
‘It means a crime case tale. How appropriate is that? But I have business in mind too, as one of the men who framed the petition to Kubilai is here.'
‘Our case?'
‘Yes. He is a writer of plays too – a young man beginning to make a name for himself. Though it may not help him that he has a young man's thirst to see justice done for his race.' Lin's face had a solemn look about it. ‘Arguing the case of a Chin woman against the decision of a Mongol governor is not how to become famous. Notorious, perhaps.'
Lin looked down at his boots and sighed at the injustice of the world. But when he looked up again, there was a brightness in his eyes.
‘Never mind that. We will speak with him briefly and afterwards you can meet the person who played Empress Tu for you this afternoon.'
I felt a tingling in my loins. But I refrained from scratching my itchy balls, knowing how it hurt Lin's feelings. Still, I grinned wickedly, imagining the supple girl gyrating just for me.
‘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
.
L
in'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 embarrass 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-an
play.'
Guan, to his credit, was not put off by Lin's deliberately rude interruption. A quiet smile played across his face.

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