The Corpse Reader (41 page)

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Authors: Antonio Garrido

BOOK: The Corpse Reader
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“People have died for less,” said the secretary, barely deigning to look at Cí.

But Cí was convinced that if the authorities had really wanted him dead, he’d already be dead. Besides, he had already spoken directly with the emperor.

So he asked again but only managed to make the secretary more indignant. He ordered Cí to get out or he’d call the guard, but Cí was determined to get things straight. He didn’t budge, though the secretary began to shout and he knew a guard would appear at any second. But just then Cí saw the approach of the Imperial retinue, including the emperor himself and Kan. He rushed past a guard and prostrated himself in the retinue’s path. The group stopped, and Kan ordered for him to be arrested, but the emperor overruled him.

“Strange way of presenting yourself to your emperor.”

Cí knew he was being extraordinarily improper, and he didn’t dare look Ningzong in the eye. He pressed his forehead against the floor and begged indulgence. He stammered that it had to do with the crimes he was investigating, and that it was urgent.

“Majesty,” said Kan, “this is unacceptable!”

“There will be plenty of time for punishments. Have you made progress?” he asked Cí.

Cí thought about asking to speak with the emperor alone, but he also didn’t want to push his luck further than he already had. Still prostrate, he cast a sidelong glance at Kan.

“Your Majesty, with the greatest respect, I think someone’s trying to sabotage my work.”

“Sabotage?” He waved his sentries aside and came forward. “What on earth do you mean?”

“I’ve just been prevented from leaving the palace grounds,” he said quietly. “The pass I was given by His Excellency the Councilor doesn’t allow me to get on—”

“I understand,” said the emperor, looking over at Kan, who seemed unconcerned. “Anything else?”

Perplexed, Cí opened his mouth, but it took him a few moments to speak.

“Yes, Majesty,” he said finally, forehead still on the ground. “The reports I was given don’t mention the palace judges’ investigations. I’ve been given no information as to where the bodies were found or how, no witness statements or police reports, and if there have been any advances in terms of suspects or motives, none of this has been communicated to me.” He glanced over at Kan again. “I interviewed one of Soft Dolphin’s intimates yesterday. He was very forthcoming until a certain point. When I pressed him he said he’d been forbidden from saying too much. By the Councilor for Punishments.”

The emperor was quiet for a few moments.

“And you think this is sufficient cause to importune me? To act like some savage in front of me?”

“Highness, I…” Cí realized how crassly he was acting, but he still continued. “Councilor Kan stated that no one had entered Soft Dolphin’s quarters, but that was untrue. Not only did he himself go in there, but he swore the sentry to secrecy! Your councilor doesn’t want the case to progress! He seems intent on preventing reason and method from coming to bear. I may not interview the concubines, nor am I allowed to see the reports, and I can’t even leave the palace—”

“Enough of this insolence!” The guards were already stepping forward. “Take him to his quarters.”

Cí didn’t bother resisting. As he was taken away, he couldn’t help but notice Kan’s poisonous smile and the twinkle in his one eye.

The door slammed shut and Cí heard the sentries taking up position outside. He began gnawing his nails, but Bo soon burst in, and he was furious.

“You think you own the world, you youngsters!” He began pacing the room. “You come here with your new techniques, your expert analysis, so full of yourself, and you forget the most basic things.
Basic protocol!
” He stopped and fixed Cí with a look. “Mind telling me what you’re up to? How could you think to accuse a councilor?”

“A councilor who’s preventing me from doing the job the emperor asked me to do, shutting me up like a prisoner.”

“That was the emperor’s idea, not Kan’s, and it’s for your own good! Idiot boy! If you leave the palace without an escort now, you’ll last about as long as an egg in a fox’s jaw.”

Cí was beginning to understand.

“It isn’t that you can’t leave, it’s just that if you do, you have to have protection.”

“But—so—”

“And of course Kan went into Soft Dolphin’s quarters. What do you expect? Do you really think every single thing is going to be left up to you?”

“What you don’t seem to understand,” said Cí, “is that I’m not going to be able to help you unless you give me some idea of this danger we’re up against.”

Bo paused to think, going over to the window and looking out. Then he turned back to Cí with a different expression.

“I understand how powerless you feel, but you have to understand where they’re coming from. You can hardly expect the emperor to confide in any old newcomer.”

“Fine. But if I’m not going to be allowed to move the case forward, ask the emperor to relieve me of my duties. I’ll tell you as much as I’ve found out, and—”

“You’ve found something out?”

“Less than I could have, but more than they let me.”

“Enough of the sarcasm! I may not be a councilor, but I can still have you flogged any time I like.”

Cí knew his impertinence was getting him nowhere. He dropped his head and apologized. Then he pulled out his notes, took a deep breath to calm down, and ran through his findings: the discovery of the tiny scars on the dead youth’s face, the Essence of Jade perfume and the palace
nüshi
’s responsibility for it, and Soft Dolphin’s deception.

Bo’s eyes were wide with curiosity.

“Soft Dolphin lied to Kan. He never went to see his father because his father never fell ill. Soft Dolphin had to make something up so that no one grew suspicious about his absence.”

“How can you be so sure? His father was often ill.”

“Clearly. And Soft Dolphin mentioned it in his diary. He went into great detail: his fears, his preparations for travel, what presents he’d take. But in the last month there’s not one single mention, not even of his father’s having a chill.”

“Maybe it was sudden,” suggested Bo, who now looked uncomfortable. “Sudden enough that he didn’t have time to write it down.”

“It could have happened like that, but it didn’t. The reports show that Soft Dolphin asked permission to leave the day after the first moon of the month but didn’t leave until the following night. Plenty of time to write in his diary.”

“And what does this lead us to, then?”

“Something that I think should trouble you. Soft Dolphin was killed by someone he knew, possibly someone he trusted. Remember, there weren’t any marks to show he’d put up a fight, nothing to suggest he’d defended himself, which means he didn’t expect to be murdered. His reason for lying to leave the palace must have been something very pressing—he would have known very well the penalty if he was found out.”

“This is troubling, yes. Yes. I think the emperor needs to know.”

27

As Cí went down into the Library of Hidden Archives, his heart contracted. The emperor had said Cí could be told about their suspicions but had made something very clear: Cí was allowed to consult the documents selected by Kan, but he mustn’t touch any other volume, on threat of death—by the worst of torture methods. Kan would be watching over him the whole way.

He followed the councilor through gloomy passageways. The light from Kan’s lantern had transformed the older man’s face into a gruesome mask. Cí was frightened; he felt his actions had turned Kan into an outright enemy. He scanned the spines of books as they passed:
The Putting Down of the Yurchen Army Rebellion, Espionage Under the Yellow Emperor, Weapons and Armor of the Dragon Warriors, Systems for Causing Disease and Pestilence
.

Kan stopped and pulled out a volume titled
The Honor and Betrayal of General Fei Yue
. “Do you know who this man was?” he asked, handing the book to Cí.

Cí nodded. Fei Yue was a national hero. Born to a lowly family, he’d joined the army at nineteen and seen action on the northern borders. His bravery and strategic acumen repelling the Jin invaders
had won him promotion, and he became the assistant chief to the emperor’s private councilor. There was a popular legend that he and only 800 other men had fought off 500,000 on the outskirts of Kaifeng.

“But what’s
betrayal
doing in the title?” Cí asked.

Kan took the volume back. “It refers to a little-known fact, one of the Tsong dynasty’s most dishonorable episodes. Despite his devotion, at the age of thirty-nine Fei Yue was executed for high treason. It was years until it was revealed that the prosecution had been based on lies. Emperor Xiaozong, our current emperor’s grandfather, restored Fei Yue’s honor with the building of the Qixia Ling temple.”

“I’ve been there,” said Cí. “The one with the four kneeling statues, with their hands tied behind their backs.”

“Those are effigies of Prime Minister Qin Hui, his wife, and their lackeys, Zhang Jun and Mo Qixie. They had created the lies and accusations.” He shook his head disapprovingly. “Ever since then, we’ve been in conflict with those damned Yurchen. We still haven’t managed to kick them out, and now it’s
us
paying tribute to those barbarians! Thanks to them, our territories have been about halved. They’re even occupying the old capital. All because we’re a peaceful people—which is precisely the problem!
Now
we regret not having a proper army!” He slammed his fist down on the volume.

“Mm, it is bad…” Cí cleared his throat. “But what has any of this got to do with the case?”

“A lot.” Kan took a deep breath. “The histories say that Fei Yue had five children whose destinies were marked by the same shame and dishonor that had been heaped on their father. Their careers, their marriages, their property—it was all like dust in a hurricane. Each of them was consumed by hatred and died before Fei Yue’s reputation was restored. But, according to this book, there was another child, one who managed to avoid all the disgrace by fleeing
to the North. He went on to prosper. Now, it’s our belief that one of the descendants of that child has come back for vengeance.”

“By killing three men with absolutely nothing in common?”

“I know what I’m talking about!” growled Kan. “We’re about to sign a new treaty with the Jin. An armistice to ensure peace on the border—at the cost of more tributes.” He reached out to take another volume down but stopped. “And that’s where the traitor’s motives lie.”

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t—”

“That’s enough! There’s a reception this evening in the palace; the Jin ambassador will be there. Be ready. Dress appropriately. There you’ll meet your adversary, Fei Yue’s descendant. The one you’re going to have to expose.”

As Cí was being outfitted by the Imperial tailor in the green silk robes worn by all of Kan’s personal advisers, one question preyed on his mind: Why, if Kan already knew who the murderer was, would he be introducing Cí and not simply making the arrest? The tailor looked at Cí and adjusted the silver brocade of the cap. Cí raised an eyebrow at his reflection in the bronze mirror. Actually, he had one other question: How, without trying, did he manage to look like some music hall singer, the kind who tries to sneak into a banquet without an invitation? But he just shut his eyes and let the tailor get on with his work. He had to focus on what was ahead.

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