The Piano Tuner (39 page)

“The
charges? Aiding and abetting Surgeon-Major Anthony Carroll, a spy and himself a
traitor to the Crown.”

“Anthony Carroll?”

The Lieutenant didn’t respond.

Edgar thought he saw a faint
sneer on the man’s face. “Doctor Anthony Carroll? Anthony Carroll
is Britain’s finest soldier in Burma. I have no idea what you are talking
about.”

They stared at each other.

There was a knock at
the door. “Come in,” said the Lieutenant.

The door opened,
and in walked Captain Nash-Burnham. At first Edgar barely recognized the stout,
jovial man he had spent an evening with at the
pwè
in Mandalay.
His uniform was dirty and rumpled. His cheeks were unshaved. Deep bags
underlined his eyes.

“Captain!” said Edgar, rising once
again. “What is happening?”

The Captain looked at Edgar and
then back to the Lieutenant. “Lieutenant, have you informed Mr. Drake of
the charges?”

“Only briefly, sir.”

“Captain, tell me what is going on?”

Nash-Burnham
turned to Edgar. “Sit down, Mr. Drake.”

“Captain, I
demand to know what is happening!”

“Damn it, Mr. Drake! Sit
down!”

The Captain’s harsh words stung more than the
Lieutenant’s hand. Edgar lowered himself into his chair.

The
Lieutenant rose and gave Nash-Burnham his seat. He stood behind him.

The Captain spoke slowly. “Mr. Drake, there exist very serious
charges against you and Surgeon-Major Carroll. I can advise you that it is in
your best interest to cooperate. This is as difficult for me as it is for
you.”

The piano tuner said nothing.

“Lieutenant.” The Captain turned to the man behind him, who
began to speak.

“We will make this brief, Mr. Drake. Three months
ago, in a routine review of files at the Home Office in London, a short note
written in Russian was found appended to the back of a classified document. The
document was traced to Colonel Fitzgerald, the officer in England in charge of
Carroll’s correspondence, and the same man who first contacted you. His
desk was searched and other correspondences were found. He was arrested as a
spy.”

“Russian? I can’t see how this has to do
with—”

“Please, Mr. Drake. You are well aware that we
have been involved in a fierce struggle with Russia for holdings in central
Asia for decades. It has always seemed unlikely that Russia would be interested
in a territory as distant from its borders as Burma. Yet in 1878, in Paris,
there was a meeting between the honorary consul of Burma and a seemingly
unlikely diplomat, the great Russian chemist Dmitri Mendeleev. The event was
noted by British intelligence in Paris but its implications were poorly
understood. The case was soon forgotten, one of many diplomatic courtships that
failed to bear fruit.”

“I can’t see how this has
anything to do with Doctor Carroll, or me, or—”

“Mr.
Drake,” the Lieutenant growled.

“This is nonsense. You just
killed—”

“Mr. Drake,” said Nash-Burnham.
“We do not need to tell you any of this. If you don’t wish to
cooperate, we can send you directly to Rangoon.”

Edgar closed his
eyes and clenched his jaw. He sat back, his head pounding.

The
Lieutenant continued. “The arrest of the Colonel led us to investigate
others associated with his command. Our results turned up little, except a
letter dated 1879, from Surgeon-Major Carroll to Dmitri Mendeleev, entitled
‘On the astringent properties of the extract of
Dendrobium
of
Upper Burma.’ Although there was nothing specific in the letter to
suggest espionage, suspicions were raised, and the presence of copious chemical
formulae in the letter suggested code, as of course did the numerous music
sheets sent from our office to Surgeon-Major Carroll in Mae Lwin. The very same
music sheets which you, Mr. Drake, carried there. When we reexamined the music
sheets sent
from
Carroll, we found most of the notes unintelligible,
suggesting that they contained not song but some covert
communication.”

“This is ridiculous,” Edgar
protested. “I heard that music played. It is Shan music; the scale is
completely different. Of course it sounds different on European instruments,
but it isn’t any sort of code—”

“Naturally, we
were loath to level accusations at one of our most successful commanders in
Burma. We needed more proof. Then, days ago, we received intelligence reports
that Carroll and yourself had met at Mongpu with both representatives of the
Limbin Confederacy as well as the Bandit Prince, Twet Nga Lu.”

“This much is true. I was there. But—”

“There, Mr. Drake, Carroll formed an alliance with the Limbin
Confederacy to repel British forces from Yawnghwe and reestablish Shan
autonomy.”

“Nonsense!” Edgar sat forward in his
chair. “I was there. Carroll acted without orders, but he had to. He
convinced the Confederacy to submit to a peace treaty.”

“Is
this what he told you?” Nash-Burnham looked up at the Lieutenant.

“Yes, but I was there. I saw it.”

“Tell me, how
much Shan do you speak, Mr. Drake?”

For a moment Edgar was
silent. Then he shook his head. “This is ludicrous. I have been in Mae
Lwin for nearly three months, and not once has the Doctor shown any indication
of insubordination to the Crown. He is a man of principle, a scholar, a lover
of art and culture—”

“Let’s talk about art and
culture,” the Lieutenant sneered.

“What do you
mean?”

“Why did you go to Mae Lwin, Mr. Drake?”

“You know very well why I went to Mae Lwin. I was commissioned by the
army to tune an Erard grand.”

“The piano that now floats at
the shore of our camp.”

“That is right.”

“And how did you get to Mae Lwin, Mr. Drake? Were you escorted there
as outlined in your commission?”

Edgar said nothing.

“Mr. Drake, I will ask you again. How did you get to Mae
Lwin?”

“Doctor Carroll sent for me.”

“So you went against orders?”

“I had come to
Burma to tune a piano. Those were my orders. I could not return to Rangoon.
When I received Carroll’s letter I went. I am a civilian. It was not
insubordination.”

“So you went to Mae Lwin.”

“Yes.”

“What type of piano did you go to tune,
Mr. Drake?”

“An Erard grand. You know that. I don’t
see what this has to do with this matter.”

“Erard …
that’s an unusual name. What kind of piano is that?”

“It’s French. Sebastien Erard was actually German, but he moved
to France. I—”

“French? You mean the same French who
are building forts in Indo-China?”

“This is ridiculous
… you are not suggesting that … ?”

“Only a
coincidence, or maybe a matter of taste? There are many fine British
pianos.”

Edgar looked at Nash-Burnham. “Captain, I
can’t believe I am hearing this. Pianos don’t make alliances
…”

“Answer the questions,” said Nash-Burnham,
flatly.

“How long does it take to tune a piano, Mr. Drake?”
asked the Lieutenant.

“That depends.”

“All
right then, just give me an approximation. In England, what is the most time
you have ever spent tuning a piano.”

“Tuning
only?”

“Tuning only.”

“Two days,
but—”

“Two days. Really? Yet you yourself said that
you have been in Mae Lwin for nearly three months. If a piano can be tuned in
two days, why have you not returned home?”

Edgar was silent. He
felt a spinning, a coming-apart.

Minutes passed and still he said
nothing.

At last Captain Nash-Burnham cleared his throat. “Will
you be able to answer the charges and testify against Surgeon-Major
Carroll?”

The piano tuner answered him slowly. “Captain,
what you are saying cannot be true. I was at Mongpu, I saw them meet. I spoke
to Twet Nga Lu. Doctor Carroll was negotiating peace. You will see. I believe
him. He is eccentric, but he is a genius, a man who can win hearts with music
and science. Only wait, and when the Limbin Confederacy presents its proposal
to the Crown, you will believe me.”

“Mr. Drake,” the
Lieutenant said, “two days after the meeting in Mongpu, the Limbin
forces, led by the
sawbwa
of Lawksawk, with the support of troops we
believe were sent by Carroll, attacked our positions in one of the strongest
offensives of their campaign yet. Only by the grace of God were we able to
drive them back to Lawksawk, and there burned the city.”

Edgar
was stunned. “You destroyed Lawksawk?”

“Mr. Drake, we
destroyed Mae Lwin.”

23

I
t was dark. Since the Captain’s words, Edgar had not
spoken. He sat in the chair in the center of the room, and the Lieutenant and
Captain Nash-Burnham left, the door clattering shut behind them. He heard the
hollow resonance of a chain being drawn over the bamboo frame and the scrapings
of a key. He heard the men walk away, silent, and he watched the sunlight fade
and listened to the sounds of the camp grow dim beneath a swell of insects
singing. He touched the inside of his palm and ran his fingers over the
calluses, They are from the tuning hammer itself, Katherine, This is what
happens when we hold on to something too tightly.

It was dark and
the voices of insects rose up, and through the slats in the wall sifted a heavy
air, laden with mist and murmurs of rain. His mind wandered. He thought of the
movement of the river, of the shaded banks, and he followed them back, against
the current, Thoughts do not obey the laws of falling water. He stood on the
banks of Mae Lwin before the bamboo huts and they were burning, flames dancing
over them, consuming, leaping to trees, branches dripping fire. He heard
screaming, and looked up thinking, It is only the sound of the jungle, the
cries of beetles. He heard the chain running over the bamboo.

The door
opened and a figure entered, floating, a shadow as dark as the lightless night,
Edgar, hello.

The piano tuner said nothing. May I come in, the shadow
asked. The door swung softly. I am not supposed to be here, it said, and the
tuner answered, Neither am I, Captain.

For a long moment there was
silence, before the voice floated once again out of the darkness, I need to
talk to you.

I think we have spoken enough.

Please, I am
already under suspicion myself, If they know I am here, they will arrest me as
well, I have been interrogated. Is that meant to comfort me? This is not easy,
Edgar, None of this is easy, I only want to talk. Talk then. Edgar, I want to
speak as we spoke before today. As we spoke before you killed the boys. Edgar,
I killed no one. Is that so, three of my companions are dead. I shot no one, I
asked them not to kill anyone, but I have been suspended from my command. Nok
Lek was fifteen, said Edgar, The others were only boys.

They were
silent, and the insects entered again in chorus. Edgar listened to the trill,
The sound is so strong yet it comes only from the scraping of tiny wings.

Edgar, I am risking everything to come here to talk to you.

He
heard a deeper rising falling from the insects’ call, Those are beats,
sound built from the interaction of unequal tones, Sound made from discord, I
am surprised I have not heard this before.

I need you to talk to me,
Think of your wife.

Sound of discord, he thought, and he answered, You
have not asked me a question.

We need you to help us find him, said
the shadow.

The sound of the insects seemed to cease, the piano tuner
lifted his head. I thought you said you captured Mae Lwin. We did, But not
Carroll. And Khin Myo? Both escaped, we do not know where they are.

Silence.

Edgar, we only want to know the truth.

It seems
in short supply.

Then perhaps you can talk to me, and this can end
without more bloodshed, and you can go home. I have told you what I know,
Doctor Carroll was a great man.

Those are empty words at times like
this. For you perhaps, Captain, perhaps that is the difference. I only want to
know facts, After that we can decide what he was. You mean
you
can
decide, It should be clear I have decided already. I don’t think that is
true, There are many reasons to disappear into the mountains, to bring pianos
into the jungle, to negotiate treaties, There are many possibilities.

He loved music.

That is one possibility, There are others, Is it
too much to admit that? Admit, perhaps, but not doubt, I have not doubted him.
That is not true, We have your letters, You shouldn’t lie, It helps no
one.

My letters?

Anything you wrote since you left Mandalay.

Those were for my wife, They are my thoughts, I didn’t
…

You didn’t think that we would wonder about a man who
disappeared?

She never read them.

Tell me about Carroll,
Edgar.

Silence.

Edgar.

Captain, I have questioned
intentions
only, I have not doubted his loyalty. You admit this. Yes,
I do, but intentions and loyalty are not the same, There is nothing wrong with
questions, We mustn’t destroy everything we don’t understand. Tell
me those questions then. My questions. Your questions, Edgar.

Perhaps I
wonder why he asked for a piano.

You wonder. Of course, I have asked
myself this every day since I left Britain. And have you answered it yet? No,
Must I, What does it matter why he requested it, why he requested me, Perhaps
it was central to his strategy, Perhaps he only missed music and was alone.

And which do you believe?

I don’t think it matters, I
have my own thoughts.

As do I.

Tell me your thoughts, Captain.

The shadow shifted, Anthony Carroll is an agent working for Russia, He
is a Shan nationalist, He is a French spy, Anthony Carroll wants to build his
own kingdom in the jungles of Burma, Possibilities, Edgar, only admit that they
are possibilities.