The Demon and the City (8 page)

"They've found another body," Ma said, sounding almost cheerful.

"Have they indeed?" Zhu Irzh murmured. He put down the copy of the
Hell Morning News,
which was delivered promptly to the station house every day, took a sip of blood tea, and gave Ma his full attention. "Who and where?"

"It isn't a woman this time, but it's in pretty much the same condition. Looks as though something tore it apart, and it's a few days old, probably about the same time of death as the first. They found it up on a mining site, dumped in a landfill crater. It was sheer luck that the foreman spotted it; they were about to fill in the hole when he noticed the foot."

"The foot?"

"They found the rest of the body nearby."

"And have they figured out who it was?" Zhu Irzh rubbed gritty eyes.

"As a matter of fact, yes, they have. It's the body of a local
feng shui
man, named Hsu Ko. Seems he was undertaking some dowsing on the site, to check for minerals. He's one of a number of
feng shui
experts on contract to the mining companies."

"Any obvious suspects?"

"No, apparently he was liked well enough, kept to himself. He was brought in to replace someone who was having problems with their license—" Ma frowned. "A man called Paravang Roche. Didn't you have a run-in with someone of that name?"

"Yes, I was the one who got his license revoked. He hadn't paid his bribes. It was a trivial affair."

"Maybe not to Roche. These people can get very jealous with one another. My cousin used to work for the Feng Shui Practitioners' Guild but he packed it in, said there was too much backstabbing. Anyway, the foreman said that Ko was the last person he'd expect to turn up murdered."

"And we're expecting the DNA results on the last body this morning, right? Perhaps there'll be a connection," Zhu Irzh murmured, though he could not bring himself to be too hopeful. Things just didn't work out like that. But to his surprise, Ma nodded.

"Yes, there is. The mining company's owned by Paugeng."

"Paugeng?" Zhu Irzh glanced up with renewed interest. "Jhai Tserai's company. Well, well. Paravang Roche worked for Paugeng before his disgrace. And Tserai was a friend of the murdered girl." He sipped his tea, lost in momentary contemplation. Jhai was starting to feature heavily in this investigation, not to mention Zhu Irzh's dreams. The previous night had been restless and disturbing, filled with images of Jhai in his arms and the sweetness of orgasm running through him like water. Demons were renowned for their sexual stamina, but everyone had their limits and morning had seen Zhu Irzh exhausted. It would have been worth it if Jhai had actually been present in the bed, but Zhu Irzh rather resented so strong an attraction being placed upon him from afar. It put him at a disadvantage, and wounded his pride.

"I think we'd better take a look at the site," he said now. "And the body."

But Captain Sung, it seemed, had other ideas.

"I told you, Zhu Irzh. I don't want you too involved with this investigation." Zhu Irzh held his breath, but Sung made no mention of his trip to see Tserai. "However, there is something you can do. I'd like you to check the
feng shui
of the site itself. See if there's anything peculiar about it. Sometimes meridians can attract elemental spirits, and they're often dangerous. We should take another look at the place where Sardai's body was found, too."

"All right," the demon said. "I think I can handle that."

When told of the plan, Sergeant Ma frowned. "Do you know much about
feng shui?
Because I don't."

"I don't either," the demon said thoughtfully. "Only what I learned from my tutor. But I know someone who does."

"Who, Paravang Roche? You can't involve a potential suspect in the investigation of a murder!"

"Why not? It'll be interesting to see how he reacts. And there's no question about his skills, just his finances."

"I really don't think—I mean, Captain Sung told me what he said to you and—"

"I know what Sung said. Look, Chen left me in charge of you, didn't he? I'll take the blame if anything goes wrong."

He was expecting further protests, but Ma merely muttered.

Fortunately, it was still early, even by the time they had collected a protesting Paravang Roche from his little apartment and driven up to the site. The scars and tears in the earth were shrouded in the clouds that boiled down from the top of Wuan Chih. The damp air was refreshing after the humid heat of the last few days, but Zhu Irzh knew that it wouldn't last. Before noon the sun would swim up and burn out the mist in a burst of heat, and by midafternoon the humans would all be sweltering and sweating.

"Nice morning," Zhu Irzh said to Paravang, who just grunted. The dowser's face was sourness itself. Paravang had gasped when he saw the demon once more standing on his doorstep, and Zhu Irzh's sensitive nose had caught the unmistakable odor of guilt. Interesting, the demon thought now. What had the dowser been up to, then, apart from unpaid license fees? Murder, perhaps? But he couldn't see what Roche thought he might achieve by murdering the man who had replaced him: it wouldn't get his license back, after all. Well, there was plenty of time to find out. It was always useful to have a dowser on board, given the ever-shifting
feng shui
of Singapore Three. Paravang would be working for him, now. Without pay.

They surveyed the squares along the eastern margin, Paravang's dowsing rods twitching infinitesimally. At least he appeared to be taking his professional responsibilities seriously. Zhu Irzh, hands in his pockets, strolled around the segmented edges of the square, then stood, a shadow in the morning mist, and looked enquiringly at Paravang.

"The meridian's running through here," Paravang at last volunteered, grudgingly.

Zhu Irzh swung around, staring. "So the body was found on the same meridian, is that correct?" He glanced down the hill to where police tape marked off an orange square. A sheet concealed what remained of Paravang's luckless successor. Irritably, Paravang nodded.

"And you're quite sure about that, are you?" The demon frowned, thinking back to an early lesson in the precepts of
feng shui
. That had been over a hundred years ago now. It was a long time to keep anything in your head, and Zhu Irzh believed in remembering only the essentials.

"What do you mean, am I 'quite sure'?" Paravang asked, with some belligerence.

"Well, I thought we might be getting confused with the lesser land lines." Zhu Irzh frowned at the ground. The
ch'i
meridians glowed with a very faint light, only dimly discernible even to a demon's enhanced gaze. "It's not wholly clear . . ."

"What isn't?" The dowser glared at him.

"The meridian goes down here and then up under this boulder, yes?" The demon's long fingers made undulating motions, like someone emulating the flight of birds.

"I suppose so." Paravang conceded.

"Here, where the thing starts to descend again, is where I thought there might be a join. There's a meridian coming in from the southwest. There's a lot of water under here, too."

"There's no join." Paravang Roche spoke with absolute finality.

"I see," Zhu Irzh said.

"I suppose you can sense a sort of knot?" Paravang lectured.

"Actually, as far as I can see, it's more like a seam."

"The
knot
is produced by the presence of the mountain line to the northwest, which pulls the meridian out of shape. Anyway, what of it? What am I even doing here?"

"The mountain line is muted by water, surely? Look, Paravang, we don't know whether the site's
feng shui
actually does have anything to do with the murder, but since the dead man
was
a dowser, and since dangerous elementals can sometimes be conjured by disturbances to the earth, and since those same elementals are forced to travel along
ch'i
meridians, it's worth investigating, surely?" Did Paravang's manner suggest guilt, or only irritation? Zhu Irzh wished he had paid a little more attention to studies of human body language, but it was not an area that greatly interested most of Hellkind. He turned back to the site without waiting for a reply. "There's a substantial spring down there." He pointed.

Paravang said loftily, "I doubt that very much. It's entirely the wrong sort of terrain."

Zhu Irzh made a universal both-hands-in-the-air gesture.

"I can't help that. I can see it! There it is. Go and get your little stick and take a look."

"It is not a little stick! It is a dowsing wand!"

"My apologies."

Paravang stormed down to the carrier. When he returned, trudging up the slope, Zhu Irzh had not moved. His attention had been caught by something beneath the earth. The taste of water was suddenly fresh in his mouth, and he could hear it running, bubbling up underneath the dry stones. Zhu Irzh stood still and listened.

"Where do you think you are?" Roche snapped. "A bloody cocktail lounge?"

Zhu Irzh favored the disgruntled dowser with an uncomprehending gaze. He said, "Sorry, I was listening for something." This was interesting. He'd always known he possessed these powers, like most demons from the first levels, but he'd never actually bothered to put them into practice before. Could such skills, Zhu Irzh wondered, be used for locating something less boring than
ch'i
meridians? Buried treasure, perhaps?

"Never mind!" the dowser snapped.

On further investigation, they discovered that Zhu Irzh was right. There was a big spring, gushing out of the gap between the hidden strata. Paravang's fury that it had been the demon and not he who had discovered the spring was manifest. Moreover, he would not admit his error, subsequently acting as though Zhu Irzh had been somehow abducted into the netherworld from which he came. When forced by circumstance to utter, he spoke into the air.

By now, the sun had broken through the clouds and the suburb of Wuan Chih spread in a tarnished glitter far below. The earth of the site was covered in condensation; droplets lying like spider webs over the rumpled russet soil. Zhu Irzh turned and gazed down the slope with pleasure. He may have a few frustrations with this world, but he could not deny that it had its charms. He watched the clouds settle over the distant hills, dimly aware that Paravang, directly in his field of vision, had flung down the dowsing rod.

"What are you staring at me for?" Paravang shouted. All the dowser's control was evaporating like the risen mist.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you off."

Paravang was not appeased by the apology. Before Zhu Irzh's startled gaze, the dowser snapped. He began to rave: shouting about imported labor, filthy creatures who weren't even foreigners but worse, something conjured up from Hell, taking his job and his money away from him, stealing his secrets, and it all got much worse. By this time a small and curious crowd had gathered. Zhu Irzh blinked. He could feel a stream of pheromonal hatred emanating from the dowser. Heat began to swim in his blood and drive a spike behind his eyes. He blinked, trying to keep a sudden, overwhelming fury at bay. It was too powerful for Zhu Irzh to reflect that this was not normal behavior for him, that it was utterly irrational . . .

"—who summoned you up?" Paravang shrieked. His round face was distorted with rage.

"I was not summoned," the demon heard himself say, very softly.

"—just because you're some spawn of Hell you think you can lord it over the rest of us, come here and take my living away—"

The crowd made a little convulsive motion forward, as if pulled by a sympathetic string. Zhu Irzh reached Paravang in three strides. He appraised the ranting dowser for a moment, then reached out, as contemptuously as a cat, and swiped Paravang in the ribs. His sharp claws cut through Paravang's shirt like butter and sent him sprawling to the ground. Paravang looked aghast at the parallel bloody grooves in his flesh and wailed. All movement stopped. Zhu Irzh watched him with a dreadful interest. Everything became inverted, the sky darkened and the ground underneath him seemed horribly bright. Zhu Irzh reached down a clawed hand, hauled Paravang easily to his feet, and hit him again across the side of the head. He could smell the enticing scent of fresh blood. There was a series of meaningless noises away to his right, which, if he had been able to understand them, would have resolved into the voice of the site manager, shouting. He glanced down at the ground and saw that the meridian at his feet was glowing white hot, all the way down into the city. Then something hit him in the ribs and bowled him over, knocking him away from the meridian. The rage was abruptly gone, melted like snow, but in its place was a dull, burning ache in his side that kindled into blazing pain. Zhu Irzh's vision blurred, but through the fading landscape of the site, he saw someone sprinting toward him. A woman: tall, and wiry, dressed in Paugeng security team fatigues. And in her hand she was holding a remarkably large gun.

The lab team did not find Robin for some hours. Her erstwhile experiment had not bothered to gag her and when she came round, she cried for help until the coughing stopped her. She tried to get out of the bonds, but they were tied too securely and the fever weakened her. She lay for a long time in a daze. Faces swam above her: Jhai, Deveth and Malian Sardai, her own mother, and always back to Mhara's well-water blue eyes. At first she thought they were real, but soon realized that they were no more than illusion.

Eventually, George Su found her, having heard her coughing uncontrollably. He acted promptly, releasing the bonds and sending a priority call to Jhai, who had just arrived back at Paugeng. She came straight down. Robin was too ill to speak by now, running a red-hot fever and coughing until she couldn't breathe. Tserai called the medics and got Robin into a ward. On the way, Robin was vaguely aware of Paugeng's private troops pouring out into the atrium. It was then about nine in the evening and the light had gone.
They won't find him now,
Robin thought, elation running under the fever.
He's long gone
. She was too ill to worry about the consequences. The medic kept trying to bring her round, and she knew Tserai was hovering over her to find out what had happened. She tried to tell them, but could not stop coughing, and eventually she felt a sedative prick her forearm and the ward became a woolly haze.