Read The Emperor's Tomb Online

Authors: Steve Berry

Tags: #Ransom, #Pakistan, #Kidnapping, #Malone; Cotton (Fictitious character), #Denmark, #General, #China, #Suspense Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Booksellers and bookselling, #Antiquarian booksellers

The Emperor's Tomb (4 page)

BOOK: The Emperor's Tomb
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"My collection," Pau said.

Ni stared at the trove.

"It is true, Minister. You saw valuable objects of art when you entered my home. Those are precious. But this is the real treasure." Pau motioned and they walked farther into the room. "Here, for example. A glazed pottery model. Han dynasty, 210 BCE."

He studied the sculpture, fashioned out of a lime-colored stone. The figure of a man turned a crank handle for what looked like a rotary mill.

"It shows something quite remarkable," Pau said. "Grain was poured into an open receptacle on top and the mill winnowed what was inside, separating the husks and stalk. This type of machine was not known in Europe until nearly two thousand years later, when Dutch sailors imported it from China."

Another pedestal displayed a ceramic figure on horseback, with a stirrup lying beside. Pau caught his interest.

"That's a Tang dynasty piece. 6th to 7th century CE. Notice the warrior on the horse. His feet are in stirrups. China developed the stirrup centuries ago, though it did not make it to Europe until their Middle Ages. The concept of a medieval knight, on horseback, armed with lance and shield, would not have been possible but for the Chinese stirrup."

He gazed around at the artifacts, maybe a hundred or more.

"I collected these from village to village," Pau said, "grave to grave. Many came from imperial tombs located in the 1970s. And you're right, I did have my choice from museums and private collections."

Pau pointed to a water clock that he said was from 113 BCE. A sundial, gun barrels, porcelain, astronomical etchings, each invention evidence of Chinese ingenuity. One curious item caught Ni's attention--a small ladle balanced on a smooth bronze plate upon which he noticed engravings.

"The compass," Pau said. "Conceived by the Chinese 2,500 years ago. The ladle is carved from magnetic lodestone and always comes to rest facing south. While Western man was barely capable of existing, the Chinese learned how to navigate with this device."

"All of this belongs to the People's Republic," Ni said.

"To the contrary. I saved this from the People's Republic."

He was tiring of the game. "Say what you mean, old man."

"During our glorious Cultural Revolution I once watched as a 2,000-year-old corpse, discovered in perfect condition at Changsha, was tossed by soldiers into the sun to rot, while peasants threw stones at it. That was the fate of millions of our cultural objects. Imagine the scientific and historical information lost from such foolishness."

He cautioned himself not to listen too closely to Pau's talk. As he'd taught his subordinates, good investigators never allowed themselves to be swayed by an interrogee.

His host motioned to a wooden and brass abacus. "That is 1,500 years old, used in a bank or an office as a calculator. The West had no idea of such a device until many centuries later. The decimal system, the zero, negative numbers, fractions, the value of pi. These concepts--everything in this room--all were first conceived by the Chinese."

"How do you know this?" Ni asked.

"It's our history. Unfortunately, our glorious emperors and Mao's People's Revolution rewrote the past to suit their needs. We Chinese have little idea from where we came, or what we accomplished."

"And you know?"

"Look over there, Minister."

He saw what looked like a printer's plate, characters ready to be inked on paper.

"Movable type was invented in China in 1045 CE, long before Gutenberg duplicated the feat in Germany. We also developed paper before the West. The seismograph, the parachute, the rudder, masts and sailing, all of these first came from China." Pau swept his arms out, encompassing the room. "This is our heritage."

Ni clung to the truth. "You are still a thief."

Pau shook his head. "Minister, my thievery is not what brings you here. I've been honest with you. So tell me, why have you come?"

Abruptness was another known Pau trait, used to command a conversation by controlling its direction. Since Ni was tired of the banter, he glanced around, hoping to spot the artifact. As described, it stood about three centimeters tall and five centimeters long, combining a dragon's head on a tiger's body with the wings of a phoenix. Crafted of bronze, it had been found in a 3rd century BCE tomb.

"Where is the dragon lamp?"

A curious look spread across Pau's wrinkled face. "She asked the same thing."

Not the answer he expected. "She?"

"A woman. Spanish, with a touch of Moroccan, I believe. Quite the beauty. But impatient, like you."

"Who?"

"Cassiopeia Vitt."

Now he wanted to know, "And what did you tell her?"

"I showed her the lamp." Pau pointed at a table toward the far end of the hall. "It sat right there. Quite precious. I found it in a tomb, from the time of the First Emperor. Discovered in ... 1978, I believe. I brought the lamp, and all these items, with me when I left China in 1987."

"Where is the lamp now?"

"Miss Vitt wanted to purchase it. She offered an impressive price, and I was tempted, but said no."

He waited for an answer.

"She produced a gun and stole it from me. I had no choice. I am but an old man, living here alone."

That he doubted. "A wealthy old man."

Pau smiled. "Life has been kind to me. Has it to you, Minister?"

"When was she here?" he asked.

"Two days past."

He needed to find this woman. "Did she say anything about herself?"

Pau shook his head. "Just pointed her gun, took the lamp, and left."

A disturbing and unexpected development. But not insurmountable. She could be found.

"You came all this way for that lamp?" Pau asked. "Tell me, does it relate to your coming political war with Minister Karl Tang?"

The question threw him. Pau had been gone from China a long time. What was happening internally was no state secret, but neither was it common knowledge--not yet, anyway. So he asked, "What do you know of that?"

"I am not ignorant," Pau said in nearly a whisper. "You came because you knew Tang wanted that lamp."

Outside of his office, that fact was unknown. Concern now rifled through him. This old man was far better informed than he'd ever assumed. But something else occurred to him. "The woman stole the lamp for Tang?"

Pau shook his head. "She wanted it for herself."

"So you allowed her to take it?"

"I thought it better than Minister Tang acquiring it. I have anticipated that he might come and, actually, was at a loss as to what to do. This woman solved the problem."

His mind reeled, assessing the changed situation. Pau Wen stared at him with eyes that had surely borne witness to many things. Ni had come thinking a surprise visit to an elderly, ex-Chinese national would provide an easy opportunity. Obviously, the surprise was not Pau's.

"You and Minister Tang are the two leading contenders for the presidency and premiership," Pau said. "The current holder of that office is old, his time draws to a close. Tang or Ni. Everyone will have to choose their side."

He wanted to know, "Which side are you on?"

"The only one that matters, Minister. China's."

Chapter
Five.

The Emperor's Tomb (2010)<br/>COPENHAGEN

MALONE FOLLOWED THE CHINESE COURIER, HIS SUSPICIONS confirmed. She knew nothing about what she was sent to retrieve, only to take what he offered. Hell, she'd even flirted with him. He wondered how much she was being paid for this dangerous errand, and was also concerned about how much Cassiopeia's captor knew. The voice on the laptop had made a point to taunt him about his government experience--yet they'd sent an uninformed amateur.

He kept the courier in sight as she eased her way through the crowd. The route she was taking would lead them out a secondary gate in Tivoli's northern boundary. He watched as she passed through the exit, crossed the boulevard beyond, and reentered the Stroget.

He stayed a block behind her as she continued her stroll.

They passed several secondhand-book stores, the owners all competitors and friends, and countless outdoor tables for the many eateries, ending at Hojbro Plads. She veered right at the Cafe Norden, which anchored the square's east edge, and headed toward the steeple of Nikolaj, an old church that now served as a public exhibition hall. She turned along a side street that led away from Nikolaj, toward Magasin du Nord, Scandinavia's most exclusive department store.

People paraded in the streets, enjoying a collective joviality.

Fifty yards away, cars and buses whizzed back and forth where the Stroget ended.

She turned again.

Away from the department store and the traffic, back toward the canal and the charred ruins of the Museum of Greco-Roman Culture, which still had not been rebuilt from a fire that had destroyed it last year. Cassiopeia Vitt had appeared that night and saved his hide.

Now it was his turn to return the favor.

Fewer people loitered here.

Many of the 18th- and 19th-century structures, their facades long restored, had once been brothels frequented by Copenhagen's sailors. Apartments, favored by artists and young professionals, dominated today.

The woman disappeared around another corner.

He trotted to where she'd turned, but a trash receptacle blocked the way. He peered around the plastic container and spied a narrow alley closed in by walls of crumbling bricks.

The woman approached a man. He was short, thin, and anxious. She stopped and handed over the envelope. The man ripped it open, then yelled something in Chinese. Malone did not have to hear what was said to understand. Clearly, he knew what was expected, and it damn well wasn't a book.

He slapped her face.

She was thrown back and struggled to regain both her balance and composure. A hand went to her wounded cheek.

The man reached beneath his jacket.

A gun appeared.

Malone was way ahead of him, already finding his Beretta and calling out, "Hey."

The man whirled, saw both Malone and the gun and immediately grabbed the woman, jamming the barrel of his weapon into her neck.

"Toss the gun in that trash bucket," the man yelled in English.

He was deciding whether to risk it, but the terrified look on the woman's face told him to comply.

He dropped the gun over the container's edge, which thumped around, signaling that little else lay inside.

"Stay put," the man said as he backed down the street with his hostage.

He could not allow the trail to end here. This was his only route to Cassiopeia. The man and his captive kept easing toward where the alley connected to another busy street. A constant stirring of people passed back and forth at the intersection.

He stood, fifty feet away, and watched.

Then the man released his grip on the woman and, together, they ran away.

NI ASSESSED PAU WEN, REALIZING THAT HE'D FALLEN DIRECTLY into the trap this clever man had set.

"And what is best for China?"

"Do you know the tale of the crafty fox caught by a hungry tiger?" Pau asked.

He decided to indulge Pau and shook his head.

"The fox protested, saying, 'You dare not eat me because I am superior to all other animals, and if you eat me you will anger the gods. If you don't believe me, just follow and see what happens.' The tiger followed the fox into the woods and all the animals ran away at the first sight of them. The awed tiger, not realizing that he was the cause of their alarm, let the fox go." Pau went silent for a moment. "Which are you, Minister, the crafty fox or the unwitting tiger?"

"Seems one is a fool, the other a manipulator."

"Unfortunately, there are no other contenders for control of China," Pau said. "You and Minister Tang have done a masterful job of eliminating all challengers."

"So do you say I am the fool or the manipulator?"

"That is not for me to decide."

"I assure you," Ni said, "I am no fool. There is corruption throughout our People's Republic. My duty is to rid us of that disease."

Which was no small task in a nation where 1% of the population owned 40% of the wealth, much of it built from corruption. City mayors, provincial officials, high-ranking Party members--he'd arrested them all. Bribery, embezzlement, misappropriation, moral decadence, privilege seeking, smuggling, squandering, and outright theft were rampant.

Pau nodded. "The system Mao created was littered with corruption from its inception. How could it not be? When a government is accountable only from the top down, dishonesty becomes insidious."

"Is that why you fled?"

"No, Minister, I left because I came to detest all that had been done. So many people slaughtered. So much oppression and suffering. China, then and today, is a failure. There is no other way to view it. We are home to sixteen of the world's twenty most polluted cities, the world leader in sulfur dioxide emissions. Acid rain is destroying our land. We pollute the water with no regard for consequences. We destroy culture, history, our self-respect, with no regard. Local officials are rewarded only for more economic output, not public initiatives. The system itself assures its own destruction."

BOOK: The Emperor's Tomb
8.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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