Authors: Antonio Garrido
“The Corpse Reader?” said the highest-ranking soldier.
“That—that’s what they call me,” stammered Cí.
“We have orders to take you with us.”
Cí didn’t put up a fight.
They took him to the prefecture building, where they covered his head with a hood and put him in the back of a cart. During the journey through Lin’an he heard insults being hurled by people who must have thought him a criminal being taken to the gallows, but gradually these subsided, and eventually the cart came to a stop somewhere extremely quiet. Cí heard the squeak of gate hinges followed
by voices, but he couldn’t make out what was being said. The mules were whipped into action and the cart continued on for a while. Suddenly the cart came to a halt and Cí, with the hood still on, was helped down. He was led along a paved path and up a slippery ramp. He began to smell mildew and earth, and he had a terrible feeling he wouldn’t be leaving this place alive. He heard a key turn in a lock, and then a hard push to his back caused him to stumble forward. The lock turned again, and everything went quiet.
He thought he was alone, but then he heard footsteps, and the hood was suddenly removed.
“On your feet!” ordered a voice.
A burning torch was held up. Cí could feel its heat on his face and was blinded by it. The soldier holding it stood back, and Cí’s eyes began to adjust to the dungeon darkness. There were no windows, only filthy walls, rank and damp and cold. The soldier pushed him into the next room, where torture instruments hung on the walls. At the far end of the room was a stout figure surrounded by a group of sentries. The man, who had only one eye, came forward.
“We meet again,” said Councilor Kan.
“What a coincidence,” said Cí.
“On your knees.”
Cí cursed himself for not having fled the city more quickly. Hanging his head, he prepared for the worst. But instead of a deathblow, another figure stepped forward into the torchlight. Cí saw a pair of curved shoes decorated with gold and inlaid gemstones. As he slowly looked up, his eyes came to a mother-of-pearl belt, then a red brocade tunic, and a magnificent gold necklace. Before him stood a slim, ill-looking man with an intense gaze. He wore the royal seal that confirmed what Cí thought from the man’s attire: this was the emperor. Cí began trembling.
To look upon the Heaven’s Son without express authorization meant death. The first thing that occurred to Cí was that the
emperor wanted to watch him executed. He gritted his teeth and waited for it to come.
“Are you the one they call Corpse Reader?”
“That is what some call me, Your Highness.”
“Get to your feet and follow us.”
Cí was helped up. This couldn’t be happening…The emperor, and the Councilor for Punishments to his right, were immediately swallowed up by a coterie of attendants and guards. They went ahead down a dimly lit passageway, and Cí, escorted by two sentries, followed.
After crossing a narrow hallway, they came into a large, vaulted room, in the center of which were two pine coffins. A number of torches flickered in the darkness, casting a little light on the bodies inside. The guards and assistants departed, leaving Cí and his two escorts alone with Kan and the emperor. Kan nodded, and the escorts brought Cí closer to the coffins.
“His Imperial Highness requires your opinion,” said Kan, with more than a hint of a grudge in his tone.
Cí stole a glance at the emperor, noticing how emaciated the man was, and turned to the first coffin. The corpse was an elderly man, of thin build and long limbs. The face was entirely worm-eaten, and the belly—which had a gash that looked familiar—had also been devoured by worms. Cí estimated that the man had been dead for five days, but he didn’t say anything yet.
He turned to look at the second body, that of a younger man in a similar state of decomposition. Maggots spilled out of every orifice, and a wound above the heart teemed with them.
Cí had no doubt that both men had died at the hands of the eunuch’s killer. He began telling Kan this but was interrupted by the emperor.
“You may address me directly,” he said.
Cí turned toward him but was so overwhelmed that it took a moment for him to speak. When he was able, he managed to
conjure a steady voice. His conclusion, he explained, was based on the unusual characteristics that were common among the three corpses.
“All three deaths were caused by a single type of wound made by the same weapon, a curved knife—and then a bloody excavation took place in an attempt to open up the torso and extract something. And the widths of each fissure, and the appearance of their edges, are very much alike.”
This was the part that didn’t make much sense to Cí. An arrowhead could snap off, but what was the likelihood of this happening twice, or three times, in exactly the same way?
Cí continued, “It is odd that none of the corpses show any sign of a struggle.” And the most unsettling thing, he added, was that all three, in spite of the smell of rotting flesh, also gave off a distinct scent of perfume.
He explained that there were also differences. “As with the eunuch, the murderer clearly tried to eliminate any identifying signs of the corpse in the first coffin, though here by multiple slashes to the face. But if you consider the third corpse, you’ll see that, despite all the worms, the face is still somewhat intact.”
The emperor turned his own cadaverous gaze to where Cí was pointing. He nodded and gestured for Cí to continue.
“In my opinion, this isn’t due to an oversight, nor has it come about because of some kind of improvisation. If we consider the hands, callused and dirty like those of a pauper, we also see that the fingernails are chipped, and the small scars all over the fingers suggest a lower-class working person. This is very much in contrast to the eunuch and the older man, whose hands were delicate and well cared for, which suggests their superior social status.”
“Hmm…Continue.”
Cí nodded. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before gesturing to the younger of the corpses.
“I’d say the murderer was either surprised in the act or didn’t care about the possibility of some poor laborer being identified. But clearly, the murderer went to great lengths to make it difficult to identify the other two. If we could figure out who they were, there would be a clear link to the murderer.”
“Your verdict, then?”
“I wish I had one,” lamented Cí.
“I told you, Your Majesty!” said Kan. “He can’t really read corpses!”
The emperor didn’t react. He seemed entirely devoid of emotion.
“What would be your conclusion, if you
had
to make one?” he asked Cí.
“I wouldn’t want to mislead Your Majesty. I suppose your experts said the murders were committed by some sect. If I had my normal materials and equipment, I might be able to comment more fully. But not having my tongs, my vinegar, my saw, or chemicals, I’d be loath to confirm or deny what has already been suggested. The only thing I can say for certain, given the level of decomposition, is that the murders occurred in the last five days, and that the older man was the first of all three to be killed.”
The emperor stood preening his long whiskers, deep in thought. Eventually he motioned to Kan to come nearer and whispered something in his ear. Kan shot Cí a baleful glance and then withdrew, accompanied by an official.
“Very well, Corpse Reader,” whispered the emperor. “One more question. You mentioned my judges before. In your opinion, is there anything they missed?”
“Have they painted him?” Cí asked, gesturing to the younger corpse.
“Painted him?”
“Because of the maggots, in a couple of days all that will be left is the skull. I’d have a portrait done. It might be needed for a future identification.”
Cí was taken out of the dungeon and led to a nearby room. Before leaving, the emperor spoke briefly with a white-haired, sallow-skinned official who bowed repeatedly. Then everyone but Cí and the official departed.
“The Corpse Reader, eh?” said the official, circling Cí and looking him up and down. “Interesting name! Choose it yourself, did you?”
“No—no, sir.”
“Hmm.” The official’s eyes sparkled beneath his bushy eyebrows. “And tell me, what’s it supposed to mean?”
“I suppose it’s to do with my skills of observation when it comes to dead bodies. I was given it at the academy where I’m studying—where I used to study.”
“The Ming Academy, yes…” The official’s demeanor softened. “My name is Bo, and I’m going to be your liaison officer, it seems. Anything you need, but also anything you find out, from now on you’ll communicate it through me.”
Cí had no idea what the man was talking about. “Anything I find out?”
“Well, your performance impressed the emperor. It impressed everyone, in fact.”
“Councilor Kan doesn’t seem very impressed with me.”
“Kan is a good man. Very traditional, very strict—he served the emperor’s father—but he’s an upright person. The problem was that you broke the rule about touching women’s dead bodies, and
you didn’t even ask his permission. If there’s one thing Kan doesn’t like, it’s rules being broken.”
“The corpse was a man. I meant no disrespect.”
“In any case,” continued Bo, “you discovered things not even the palace judges had. His Majesty thinks you might be of use. But first of all, I need to fill you in a bit. Remember, though, this is not for general consumption. What I’m about to tell you, you have to listen to as though you have no tongue. Understood?”
Cí nodded seriously.
“For a number of months now, there has been a great evil in Lin’an. Something that threatens to devour us all. It seems to have become weaker just recently, but it still represents an awful threat. Our sergeants have done what they can, but every time they establish a suspect, that suspect disappears or winds up dead in an alley. We’ve been running out of ideas, but your observations have been most valuable.”
“But I’m just a simple student, sir.”
“A student, yes, but simple, clearly not. We’ve done our homework on you. We’ve heard about all the good work you’ve been doing at the academy and about your very ambitious, useful compendium.”
Cí wasn’t as convinced of his worth. He thought about all the mistakes he’d made at the academy, too. Before he could say anything, though, Bo cut him off.
“The best evidence is that you worked out the corpse was a eunuch. You saw it straightaway, unlike our judges.”
Cí couldn’t argue with that. He felt buoyed by it, but then immediately remembered that, no matter what, he was still a fugitive with a dishonorable father. If he became too involved, they’d surely find out who he really was.
“Don’t worry about the other judges,” said Bo. “And don’t think you’re going to be made solely responsible for large decisions. Your
opinion will be sought, and that’s all. You obviously have a very keen vision for these matters. We have also heard about your ambition to take the Imperial exams, but do well here, and the emperor might just see fit to give you a place in the judiciary regardless of the exams.”
Though this was obviously more than Cí could ever have dreamed of, he wasn’t wholly pleased.
“Maybe the palace judges aren’t stupid after all,” he said, half to himself.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that…everyone knows a judge can be punished for getting a verdict wrong.”
“Yes, and?”
“Well, this clearly isn’t a straightforward case. If you’ll permit me to speak frankly, sir, it seems to me that they might have been reserving judgment so as not to risk that eventuality. Better to say nothing and be thought a fool than speak and confirm it, right?”
Bo squinted and was about to answer when Kan entered the room and ordered Bo to leave. Kan’s knit brow and pursed lips spoke for themselves.
“From now on you’ll be answering to me. If there’s anything you need or want, you have to ask me first. You’re going to be given a pass that gives you access everywhere in court, everywhere except the Palace of the Concubines and my private apartments. You may consult the legal archives, and you may examine the corpses further. You are also permitted to question any person at court. All of this, but you must ask me first. Bo will explain the rest.”