A Deadly Injustice (26 page)

‘Is it really possible to kill yourself by hanging when your feet can still touch the ground? He is practically kneeling.'

I nodded my head.

‘I have heard that it is so. If you are determined to die and can tie a noose that will not slacken when you black out, then it is perfectly feasible. What we need to ask ourselves is whether this boy had that determination. He would only need enough desire to do it to carry him off into unconsciousness. After that, his own weight would ensure there was no return.'

Lin suddenly tipped his head to one side.

‘Listen. Can you hear something?'

I cocked my head, and concentrated on the sounds coming from the cell block. Li made as if to speak, but I held my hand up. There was no sound of birds in this desolate spot, but then I heard it. A soft mewling sound like the faint squeak of newborn kittens, followed by a scratching. I stepped out of the cell, trying to follow the sound. I realized it came from the cell next to Wenbo's. As I stepped up to the door, the sound ceased, as though the kitten was aware of danger and was holding its breath. Silently, I tipped my thumb at the door, and raised an eyebrow, questioning what might be in there. Li hissed under his breath.

‘It's the doctor. I had forgotten about him.'

Lin emerged from the death cell and offered a suggestion.

‘Then I propose that you open the door and see if he is alive or dead too.'

At the wave of Li's pudgy hand, the gaoler rushed forward and thrust a key in the lock of the door. As he turned it, we all heard a scuttling sound like rats skittering through old straw to find a dark corner to hide in. The gaoler swung the door inwards, and poked his lamp into the darkness. A creature cowering in the farthest corner held up a claw of a hand over his face against the unwelcome intrusion.

‘Aiii, don't kill me, demon.'

Something had terrified Doctor Sun out of his wits.

Gurbesu had risen early that morning, aroused by the fuss caused by the arrival of Taitemir's messenger. She knew Lin and I would go straight to our interrogation of Geng Wenbo afterwards, and was glad of the time alone that our tasks gave her. She wanted to talk some more to Jianxu about her life, having the, in my opinion, forlorn hope that she could bring the young woman out of herself. It irritated Gurbesu more than a little that Jianxu had been no more than a slave all her life. First her father had sold her into slavery, and then she bowed down to her husband, and then when he died to her mother-in-law. I thought she was mad to try and change one girl who merely stood as an example of the fate of most women in Cathay. It would be like trying to push back the
acqua alta
in Venice with a broom. Raging high tides came and inundated the city whether we Venetians liked it or not. It was a force of nature. And so were the Three Duties and the Four Virtues in Cathay.

Gurbesu had dressed and sat combing her shiny black locks, while pondering how she would approach her task. Finally, she could put it off no longer. She got up and walked out into the central courtyard of their lodgings. Predictably, Jianxu was already awake and dressed. But, surprisingly, she wasn't bustling about carrying out tasks as Gurbesu had imagined she might. The young woman sat on a stone bench in the middle of the yard, apparently contemplating the outside world as it passed the open doors of the house. A fruit-seller hurried by with a bucket full of prickly oval fruit clutched in each hand. Then a sedan chair went by, its two bearers transporting a pretty white-faced woman somewhere. Gurbesu could see a look of strain and tiredness on the woman's face as she glanced into the courtyard. She was probably returning to her lodgings after a night entertaining a rich Chinee client. Gurbesu heard a sigh, only after a moment realizing it was not the white-faced entertainer, but Jianxu who had made the sound. Jianxu turned to her, and spoke sadly.

‘We are all slaves to men, are we not?'

Her attractive oval face and almond eyes had for the first time some animation in them. Gurbesu even thought she saw a small tear running down her peach-like cheek. She smiled in relief. Perhaps the girl was not as cowed as she had imagined.

Sun refused to come out of the corner of his cell where he had first cowered when I entered. So I sat on the floor next to him. Lin circumspectly retired from the cell, so as not to cause the doctor any more anxiety. He hustled the prefect away, too. For a long time, Sun and I sat side by side in silence, staring out of the open door. Finally he plucked up the courage to speak.

‘Will you close the door, demon? I will feel safer.'

I rose and pushed the door closed, glancing through the grille at a quizzical Lin, who stood patiently outside. I shook my head gently and he nodded in understanding. Lin was the most patient man I had ever encountered. He would wait all day if necessary to see what troubled Doctor Sun. As the sun reached the highest point in the sky, a few rays filtered through the grille of the door, chasing away some of the gloom of the cell. This is what Jianxu would have experienced every day for weeks, perhaps imagining that that particular day's sun would be the last she would see. The doctor began to weep.

‘I heard the Devil last night. It took Wenbo, and I was afraid it would come for me next. And I have sins on my soul.'

I did not tell him that Wenbo had killed himself. I was far more interested in his sins. Without Wenbo's own confession, I would need a statement from Sun, if Lin and I were to overturn the verdict on Jianxu.

‘Tell me the sins that burden you.'

A random ray of sunlight cut across his face, illuminating his fearful, staring eyes.

‘I planned with Old Geng to murder Madam Gao. And I would have done it, too.'

His words jolted through me as if I had been standing on the deck of a ship struck by lightning. I recalled the old woman saying she had been rescued by Geng from an attacker. Was this the incident that Sun was referring to? But if it was, why did he say that Geng was in on the plot?

‘You mean you planned it, and Geng stopped you?'

Sun suddenly became agitated, beating the packed earth floor of the cell. I saw Lin's face appear briefly at the grille then disappear once he assured himself I was safe. Sun was adamant.

‘No, no, no. Old Geng and I both owed Gao a great deal of money. It was his suggestion that we sneak round to her house together. He said we were going to catch her on her own, and do away with the old bitch. But just as we were about to rush into her office, Geng said he had heard the girl – Jianxu – and he would check on her first. I entered Gao's inner office on my own and grabbed her by the neck. She was screeching like some old cat but I just kept squeezing. The next thing I knew, Geng was in the room acting like some avenging angel. He pulled me off her and hit me in the stomach. I realized I had been betrayed – that Geng had planned it this way from the start – and I ran out of her house. After that, I knew I couldn't show my face in Pianfu again and began to practice in the hill villages.'

All the facts were beginning to fit together nicely now, but I still needed something more.

‘But you did come back. You sold Old Geng's son aconite in order that he might kill his father.'

Sun nodded.

‘The boy knew what I had tried to do to Madam Gao. The old bitch must have told him or the girl, I am not sure. One day, in the village where you found me, I got a message. It simply said, “I know about you and Gao. If you would like to revenge yourself, come to the Geng household in disguise. Bring poison. If you don't come, remember that I know how to find you.”'

He stared at me with horror in his eyes.

‘Save me from the Devil. Don't leave me in the dark on my own.'

TWENTY-FIVE

A man who waits for a roast duck to fly into his mouth will wait a very long time
.

‘
H
e told me he had heard the Devil scratching at his door.'

We were all back together in the house allocated to us. Lin, Gurbesu, Tadeusz and I sat in a circle around the low table piled high with documents about this case. Jianxu was sitting in the late afternoon sunshine, revelling in its warmth, no doubt. I could hear her singing a lilting song in quiet tones. Tadeusz questioned my statement.

‘It must have been a rat or a mouse. Those prison cells have straw on the floor that has not been cleaned for weeks.'

I tilted my head, not quite so sure of his rational explanation. Normally, I would have agreed, but I knew what Sun had said next.

‘He said himself that he thought it was a rat at first, and told it to go away. When it heard his voice, it stopped scratching at his door. But then the noise began at the next cell door. The cell occupied by Wenbo. Sun claims he heard the murmur of voices.' I looked at Tadeusz. ‘Do you know of a rat that can talk?'

The silversmith was still not convinced.

‘He probably heard Wenbo talking to himself, trying to talk himself into self-murder. Or maybe Wenbo imagined he was hearing voices, and was talking to thin air. Either way, the boy killed himself.'

‘I am not so sure.'

Lin was concerned about my story now.

‘You are not sure that Wenbo killed himself?'

‘No, I'm not. Though I don't have a lot of evidence to back up my fears. Only the words of a half-demented doctor scared of his own shadow.'

Tadeusz indicated with a snort that he reckoned that was an accurate summary of Sun's state of mind, and therefore he was not to be trusted. Lin, however, was still open-minded.

‘Tell us exactly what he said.'

I paused, recalling the terror in Sun's eyes, and what he said next.

‘Then the whispering stopped, and for a moment there was silence. I heard a strange low moan. It was a man's voice saying “no” over and over again. More and more insistent, as if whoever it was had been forced to do something against his will, and now he had changed his mind.'

Sun stopped speaking and stared down at the straw and packed earth that we both sat on. I could hear his breath coming faster and faster. I had to make him go on before he collapsed.

‘And then?'

‘And then the sound of the voice was cut off, as though a hand or a cord had been squeezed round the man's neck, cutting off his air. I heard a wheezy gasp, then a drumming sound on the door like he was kicking it with his heels, or hitting it with his fists. It went on so long. I pressed my own fists over my ears but the sound just went on and on. Then I heard a gurgle, a sort of . . . death rattle, and all was still.'

The doctor looked me in the eye and asked a question.

‘Was it Geng Wenbo in the next cell?'

I nodded, grimacing. Sun groaned in despair.

‘Don't leave me. The Devil will come for me next.'

‘Of course, I had to leave him, though I persuaded the gaoler to leave a light in his cell. Let's just hope he doesn't knock it over and burn himself to death.'

Gurbesu had been frowning during my retelling of Sun's story.

‘It sounds as if he heard Wenbo being strangled against his will, rather than a self-murder. But then how would someone get into his cell to do that?'

‘No human could get inside without a key, so maybe it really was the Devil.'

She laughed at my suggestion, but it was a nervous laugh. Looking round, I felt we were all a little unsure about Sun's evidence. In the courtyard, Jianxu's spellbinding song, that had wound itself quietly through my recounting of Sun story, suddenly ceased. It was as if, though she couldn't hear us, she too was perturbed by the story, and had lost the sense of happiness she had so recently found. I asked the obvious question.

‘If someone killed Wenbo, are we still sure we have found the real killer of Old Geng?'

A grim silence descended on us, which was only broken by a familiar voice.

‘What are all the gloomy looks for? Have you not solved the case?'

I sprang to my feet.

‘Alberoni, you are back.'

In the doorway stood the long, lanky figure of the friar, his shabby, patched black robe speckled with dirt. He had a broad smile on his face. I patted his shoulder and urged him into the centre of the room, where we all crowded around him. I could not wait for his news. Sure that his hunt for Prester John was a wild goose chase, I had been prepared for him to return more disconsolate than before. But he seemed to be happy enough, and he took my arm.

‘I can see, Niccolò, that you imagine my search was wasted.'

I held up my hands to signify a truce between us on the matter. But he had good news, from his point of view.

‘True, I did not find Prester John, but I learned much more about him. At the castle of Caichu I was told an intriguing story about Ung Khan.'

This was a name we had encountered before, which some thought synonymous with Prester John. Ung Khan had been the name ascribed to the old man who had given us the slip in Xanadu. Alberoni's excitement communicated itself to us, and while Gurbesu went to fetch some food, we all sat down. The vexed matter of Wenbo's death was momentarily forgotten. When Gurbesu returned with food, she put it before Alberoni, and he continued his story.

‘The castle was formerly owned by a man called the Golden King, who, it is said, had damsels not horses to pull him around in a chariot.'

Gurbesu laughed at such a fantasy, but I quieted her with a finger to my lips, and the friar spoke on.

‘This king was subject to Ung Khan, but there was a war between them because of the Golden King's arrogance. Seven men of Ung Khan's court said they could overpower the Golden King in return for great rewards. Prester John said he would be glad if they could accomplish this. So the seven men went to the Golden King and presented themselves as men from a faraway country who had come to serve him. He willingly took them in and they served him well for two whole years.' The friar looked at me and smiled. ‘When I heard this, I was put in mind of you, Niccolò, and your clandestine dealings that rely so much on trust.'