The Chinese Alchemist (4 page)

“It’s not for you to apologize,” she said quietly. “There’ll be another time.”

There wasn’t another time for Dory, though, because ten days later she was dead.

Two

Life does not always unfold as we hope, of course, particularly when we make our plans without understanding the course of action others intend for us. I was not to become a soldier like my brother, nor a civil servant scurrying about the corridors of the August Enceinte where, Number One Brother informed me, the important business of managing the empire took place. Both my brothers were successful at their careers, none more so than Number Two Brother who, posted to the northern frontier, spent his idle hours trading with the caravans on the Silk Route, or perhaps, given his ne’er-do-well attitude, robbing them, thereby amassing a considerable fortune. The money he sent for the family was well regarded by all, irrespective of the manner in which it was acquired. My father was addicted to the gaming tiles, and regularly gambled much of the family income away. We lived, I suppose, in a state of decaying gentility.

No, my destiny had been decided long before I was born. My family, it seems, had a long tradition of service to the Imperial Court. I was to be adopted by Wu Peng, a very important personage in the court. Wu was a eunuch in the imperial household. I was to be a eunuch, too.

I did not understand when I was sent to Wu Peng on my tenth birthday what a eunuch was. I was soon to find out. Number One Brother, who by now had a wife and two concubines, told me to take it like a man, which was, I suppose, his idea of humor. My mother and father told me to be brave, that it was a tremendous honor. Brave about what? An honor for what? I was told that the Son of Heaven’s closest advisor and confidant was a eunuch, someone so powerful that he walked the chambers of the Son of Heaven. I was told that the workings of the Imperial Palace depended upon the skill of eunuchs as much as on the ministrations of the most senior mandarins, a position to which Number One Brother aspired. I did not understand any of this. I did know that my mother cried herself to sleep for several nights before I left.

Perhaps that is what they told Number One Sister, too, that it was an honor to serve the emperor. And it was.

Dory suffered a massive heart attack and died on the spot, seated in her favorite armchair. She’d had a heart condition for a few years, something she’d neglected to mention to me. Her maid found her when she returned to the house with the groceries. Her husband was at his club at the time. Dory died alone. In fact, it didn’t matter that neither George nor the maid was on hand. The doctors said there was nothing that could have been done. It was a shock. Dory had looked younger than her years, but even so, she was taken way too soon. More than anything else I blamed the Cottingham, convinced Dory would still be alive if they’d let her work as long as she wanted to, or at least for a few more years until she turned sixty-five. Rob, Clive, Alex Stewart, and I all went to the funeral. I saw no one that I knew from the Cottingham, and certainly not Burton Haldimand.

I also blamed whoever it was who had changed his or her mind about selling the T’ang box. The auction house wasn’t revealing any names, which would be standard procedure, so this person was both nameless and faceless. That didn’t stop me from being mad at them. Dory had been so excited about that box, the idea that she would have two of the three boxes her stepfather had, in her mind, stolen from China. Maybe if I’d been able to get it for her…

It was at the funeral that I saw Dory’s husband, George Norfolk Matthews, for the first time. He looked to be older than Dory by maybe ten years, and he seemed to be a very sad man, not just because of Dory but because of life. I have no idea why I thought that. He had plenty of money, and Dory had always spoken of him with affection. She had many photos of the two of them in her former office at the Cottingham, and of course at her home. Their daughter Amy, a doctor, came from Florida. It was the first time I’d seen her in person, too. She looked like her father, not Dory, and I knew that she was divorced. With her was a young man whom I recognized from photos I’d seen at Dory’s as her much-loved grandson, George, named for his grandfather, but better known as Geordie. Geordie looked like Dory’s side of the family, which is to say more Asian. He was an extremely attractive young man, the sort who would have the girls swooning. There was also a half brother of Dory’s by the name of Martin Jones. I didn’t get a chance to talk to any of them.

Several weeks later, long after Dory was buried, I was still playing at being Charlyn Krahn, to my displeasure. Taking care of these bad people, to use Rob’s expression, was taking rather longer than either of us wanted. Rob and I had been moved to a small apartment, which was a good thing, given that we’d have killed each other after that long in a hotel room. The only positive news, at least from my standpoint, was that my lovely little cottage was still standing. One of Rob’s brothers and sisters on the force went in and got my mail and checked the place from time to time. No new cement floor in the basement. No smoke in the front room. Maybe the Heritage Act was more powerful than Rob thought.

Still, I was slowly, or maybe not so slowly, going gaga. Again Dory came to the rescue, not in person, needless to say, but through the offices of one Eva Reti, barrister and solicitor, of Smith, Johnson, McDougall and Reti.

Ms. Reti was the executor of Dory’s estate, she informed me, and she hoped that I might meet with her at her offices downtown on a matter that she was sure would be of interest to me. She was a little brusque of tone, and she kept me waiting for several minutes before I got in to see her. With her was George Norfolk Matthews. He was holding a box that was about eight inches long covered in grey silk. After the usual introductions and pleasantries, he handed it to me. “Dory wanted you to have these,” he said. “They belonged to her mother.”

I opened the box to find a long strand of some of the most beautiful pearls I’d ever seen, a lovely creamy color, with a beautiful clasp. “I can’t accept these,” I said. “Surely your daughter would want them.”

“She favors less traditional design,” he said. “And she has received a great deal of jewelry from her mother. She is very happy for you to have them.”

“I will treasure them,” I said. “You know, I sell old jewelry, but I don’t have much of it myself, and these pearls are exquisite, and all the more valuable to me because of Dory.”

Ms. Reti and George smiled for the first time since I came in. Apparently my quite sincere expression of appreciation had melted the ice a little. “There is another matter arising from Dory’s will that we must discuss with you,” George said. “I will leave that part to Eva here.”

Ms. Reti shuffled a little in her chair before getting to the point. “The T’ang silver box has come back on the market,” she said. “It is to be auctioned in Beijing in two weeks.”

“That’s very interesting, I’m sure,” I said. “But obviously Dory’s original request is no longer practical, and while I thought it was extraordinary and would love to own it, I’m not really in that league.”

“Mrs. Matthews has provided for its purchase, and for the purchase of a third, even larger box, should it come on the market,” she said. “She believed they belonged together, as you know. Not only that, but she has provided for your expenses to go wherever they show up, and to pay you a significant commission when you acquire them for her estate.”

“That’s ridiculous, Ms. Reti,” I said. “I mean…”

“Unusual, yes,” Ms. Reti said. “Ridiculous, no. Please call me Eva. May I call you Lara? Dory told me so much about you, I feel as if I know you.”

I nodded. Alarm bells were clanging away in my head. This had the air of an obsession extending beyond the grave, and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to be a part of it.

“A large sum of money was set aside in Dory’s will for this purpose. I can tell you it’s in the seven-figure range, with a top-up possible. Under the terms of the will, you are to consult with me on the price to be paid, but please be assured I intend to take your word for it. I know nothing about this sort of thing, and I know Dory trusted your judgment implicitly. She also wanted those boxes no matter the cost, so my role in this is peripheral only.”

“George, how do you feel about this? How does your daughter feel?” I asked.

“Dory had her own money,” George replied. “She inherited from her stepfather. You probably know that I don’t need the money.”

“Forgive me,” I said. “But I don’t think you answered my question.”

George thought about that for a moment. He looked very tired, almost drawn, deep lines etched in his face. He seemed to be struggling to find the right words, but then he straightened up in his chair and said, “Anything Dory wanted is fine with me. Our daughter feels the same way. She’s a successful doctor, and like her father can afford to indulge her mother’s wishes. We know that the money set aside for this purpose will be tied up for some time, and if you are successful, will be used for the purpose of realizing Dory’s wishes. There are no other heirs. Eva, will you give Lara the details?”

“The silver box is being auctioned in Beijing as I’ve said, at an auction house called—just a minute while I consult my notes—Cherished Treasures House. That’s a translation, of course. I won’t even attempt the Chinese. It’s a lovely name, though, don’t you agree? Why don’t we just call it Treasures, for the sake of simplicity. I hope you’ll be able to be there, and will succeed in purchasing the box. If you are unsuccessful, you will still be paid a fee for your time that I think you will consider more than acceptable. If you do manage to acquire it, you will be paid a commission of ten percent on the price realized, which, if I understand auction terminology correctly, includes the buyer’s premium.”

“That’s right,” I said. “The price realized is the high bid, plus the buyer’s premium, which might be as high as ten percent, and any applicable taxes,” I said. “This would be a rather handsome commission for me. Are you sure?”

“Dory’s wishes were very clear. She was absolutely certain you would get the boxes for her,” Eva said, and George nodded. “Any other issues?”

“I don’t speak Chinese.”

“We can help with that,” she said.

“There’s something else bothering me, too,” I said. “Dory wanted the boxes to go back to China. That box is now in China. So…”

“But it still may go to a private collector,” Eva said. “That was not Dory’s intent. My instructions are that once the three are assembled they are to go a museum in Xi’an, the, let me see, Shaanxi History Museum in Xi’an.”

“I do recall her telling me that. I’m just not sure what’s going on here. I mean, why was the box withdrawn from sale in New York just before it went on the auction block? I suppose there are many reasons why that might have happened. Maybe there was a legal dispute over the ownership of the box, and it couldn’t be sold until that was resolved. Maybe someone was contesting ownership and got a court injunction to stop the sale or something. Maybe the owner died an hour before the auction. The auction house had no obligation to reveal what happened, and for sure they didn’t.” I was just thinking aloud here, but George and Eva waited patiently while I did so.

“But it wasn’t money. If the seller decided from the look of the crowd or even the prices realized on earlier items that they weren’t going to get what they wanted, or even if they decided they didn’t like the look of those who might be bidding, they could withdraw it. But it’s easy enough to guard against the money issue. You just place a reserve bid, below which you won’t sell, and if the bids don’t go that high, then no sale. That is exactly what they did, too. The reserve was two hundred thousand, and the presale estimate was three hundred thousand. I left my card and the lot number at the auction house and offered three hundred and fifty thousand if the seller changed his or her mind again and wanted to sell. I didn’t hear from the auction house. I thought perhaps someone else had put in a similar offer higher than mine, but that can’t be the case if it’s on the market again. I did ask for the name of the seller, but the auction house wouldn’t give it to me, and they were quite within their rights not to do so.” By “someone else,” I meant Burton Haldimand. He’d tried to make sure I didn’t see him do it, but he’d left his card at the auction house, too, and I assume he also made an offer, although I’d be the last person he’d tell about it.

“Does this matter?” Eva asked. “It’s back on the market. You get another chance at it.”

“It matters if it is just going to be withdrawn again. That’s a waste of Dory’s money, and I’ve already wasted some of it.”

“That was hardly your fault, was it?” George interjected. “Aren’t you being a little overly conscientious about this? Not that I don’t appreciate it, of course, but Dory didn’t care about your expenses. She could afford it. She just wanted the box. Her will is clear.”

“I suppose I’m fussing needlessly. I wonder if Burton Haldimand knows about the sale,” I said.

“Burton Haldimand?” Eva asked as George frowned and lightly pounded the arm of his chair with his fist.

“He’s… a rival for the boxes,” I said.

“The fellow from the Cottingham! Then you better get moving,” Eva said. “I thought it was disgraceful the way they treated Dory. From what she told me about how her so-called retirement was handled, I believe them to have been a little light in the due-process department. I told her she should sue, and I’d be only too happy to represent her, but she wouldn’t. She said if they didn’t want her, then she should just leave. True, she was pushing sixty at the time, but they still had to handle it properly. I told her she could at least get a better settlement. She said she didn’t need the money, which of course she didn’t. But let’s just make sure the Cottingham doesn’t get our Dory’s box.

“Now, as to how we can help here: Our firm has an office in Beijing, run by one of our senior partners, who has been in Beijing for five years now. Her name is Mira Tetford. She works with North American corporations that want to do business in China, and just about everybody does. Sign of the times. Here are her coordinates. She’ll arrange for someone to
meet
you at the airport if you let her know when you’re arriving, and she’ll arrange for your accommodation. She’ll also make sure the money is there for you, and provide a translator. Dory wanted you to fly business class by the way. Let us know when you want to go, and we’ll make the arrangements. You’ll do it?”