Deadly injustice

NINETEEN

‘ Tadeusz? But he’s so loyal? It can’t have been him.’

I was astounded at Lin’s revelation, but he was very sure of himself. And I knew he never acted precipitately. I looked at his solemn face.

‘How long have you suspected?’

‘A few days now. That’s why I was glad he went on that mission to find the doctor. It has kept him out of the town for a while.’ He paused, a blush appearing on his smooth, boy-like face. ‘And it allowed me a chance to find this.’

He produced a letter from his stack of documents and handed it over to me. I took it, but it meant nothing as it was written in Chinee. I stared dumbly at the swirling script. Lin explained.

‘It is the letter from Ko that I saw in his possession. In it Ko is suggesting that my name be smeared by spreading rumours about my

… liaison with a certain young actor.’ He looked down at his neatly-shod feet. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t tell me yourself.’

‘About the rumours? I wanted to find out the source first, and …’

I paused too long, and Lin filled in the gap for me.

‘And you thought they were true.’

‘Now, look here, old friend, this is none of my business.’ I knew I was blustering from embarrassment, but I couldn’t stop myself babbling. ‘Your life is your own, and if you are so inclined as to-’

‘He is my nephew.’

I stopped in my tracks.

‘Your nephew? You mean, what I saw in T’ai Yuan Fu wasn’t…’

It seemed as though I was fated not to get the ending of my sentences out. Lin, a hurt look in his eyes, gazed at me.

‘I don’t know what you thought you saw, Nick. But it is true, Tien-jen Hsiu’s real name is a mundane Lin Jen-pu. He is my brother’s boy, and he ran away from the family farm to pursue his dream of being a performer. And though I am his uncle and therefore biased, I think he has found his true calling in life. His father — my brother — is a peasant born and bred. He will never recognize that Jen-pu made the right choice. I do, and saw it was him as soon as he removed his make-up that day at the theatre. I didn’t want him to think that every member of his family had cast him out. So that is why he came to my rooms late at night. An actor keeps strange hours, and we talked a lot. Into the early hours, actually.’

I bowed my head in shame at thinking the rumours spread by Tadeusz in the town had been true. Though, even so, I didn’t care about a man having yearnings for another man. Stranger things have happened at sea, as they say. I only regretted that Lin was disappointed in me. But then, we had the matters to sort out as a result of all this. Not least how to deal with Tadeusz Pyka.

‘You are right by the way.’

Lin looked at me with curiosity.

‘About what?’

‘Your nephew is a fine actor, and can fool an audience into believing he is anything other than a callow youth. Believe me, I know. But now I have an errand to carry out. We will talk later about this. Tadeusz has got some explaining to do.’

I left Lin to think about what we would say to Pyka, and hurried back towards the town square. I was sure I had left enough time for Ho to have gone to the temple and collected his money in exchange for the information I wanted. When I entered the building, I could see that an elderly couple stood at the shrine of lost objects. The old priestess was hovering beside them, but they seemed unable to decide on the contribution they were going to make to the gods. Impatiently, the priestess left them to their deliberations, and, seeing me, disappeared behind the shrine. Moments later, she returned with a packet in her hands. She hobbled over to me, and passed the packet over. It was a bulky object wrapped in a dirty cloth, and I hefted it to assess whether it had the weight of a book. It felt right. I leaned down and whispered in the ear of the bent old crone.

‘And did the gods give you a name to pass on to me?’

The old woman’s grey head nodded.

‘I am to say to you just one name. Geng.’

She winked broadly at me and turned back to her elderly clients. I raised the book in my hand, and spoke out loud for them to hear.

‘I give thanks to the god of lost things. My property is restored.’

The couple looked excited and passed some gold coins over to the priestess. I left them to their further negotiations.

When I got back to the house, Tadeusz was standing in the courtyard talking to Lin. He had returned, but I could see from Lin’s eyes that he had not yet plucked up the courage to tell Pyka that we knew of his betrayal. On the contrary, the little silversmith was gesticulating excitedly with both hands. He caught Lin’s glance over his shoulder and turned to look at who had just arrived. When he saw me, his face lit up, and he rushed across the dusty yard.

‘I have found him. The doctor. He was practising in the village in the hills just as I had been told. But when I eventually got there, he had been called to some remote farm. He is not due back for a couple of days, so I thought I would return. The village is less than a day away, and I reckon it would be better for you to be there when he returns, Nick. If he proved reluctant to talk, I could do nothing. And by the time I came back for you, he might have been scared off. This way, you can be in the village with me before he even returns.’

‘How do you know he is our man? Sun is a common name, I believe.’

Tadeusz laughed, and the flame-scorched side of his face turned even redder.

‘When I enquired about a doctor, the elders of the village suggested I might like to go and find one elsewhere. They hinted that he was not the best physician in the world, or why would he be hiding away in their poor village. He was all they could afford, but I surely could find better. No, it’s our man, I am sure.’

‘Good. Then we will set off first thing in the morning.’

I looked enquiringly over at Lin, who inclined his head slightly. It was time to confront Tadeusz.

‘But before we do, there is something else you need to tell us about.’

Tadeusz looked ingenuously from me to Lin.

‘What is that, Nick?’

Lin whisked the incriminating note from his sleeve, and Pyka’s face fell.

‘There is no point in asking where you got that, is there?’

Lin looked stern.

‘I know it was wrong of me to go through your possessions, Tadeusz. But you have to admit, we deserve an explanation.’

Pyka looked nervously across the courtyard. He didn’t want everyone to see his humiliation, least of all Gurbesu whom he worshipped from afar.

‘Can we go somewhere more private?’

Lin waved an elegant hand towards his own rooms. Tadeusz went ahead, and we followed, probably as heavy-hearted as he was. Betrayal is bitter, but especially so when it involves one of your closest and trusted friends. Once we were in Lin’s room, Po Ku was sent on an errand to get him out of the way. All three of us remained standing, as the tension was palpable. No one seemed ready to speak first, so I took a deep breath.

‘Why, Tadeusz?’

He looked a little defiant at first.

‘I suppose it’s no good denying it.’

In reply, Lin just waved the letter from Ko.

‘No, I suppose not.’

Suddenly, it was as if the inflated bladder I had seen Chinee officials kicking about for fun had burst, and Tadeusz’s shoulders slumped.

‘God, I am sorry, Chu-Tsai. I felt terrible enough reporting to Ko about your meeting with the young actor, but spreading those rumours made me feel worse. Believe me, I did not suggest anything improper took place between you and Tien-jan Hsiu. I was just under orders to report on anyone you and Nick met. When I got that — ’ he gestured at the letter still in Lin’s accusing hand — ‘I was disgusted, but there was nothing I could do but obey Ko.’

‘Why?’

It was Lin’s turn to ask, and Pyka looked crestfallen.

‘Because he has promised me information in return.’

I looked at Lin, who returned my puzzled gaze.

‘What information could make you betray your friends?’

The silversmith gulped, and a tear formed in the corner of his eye coursing down his unscarred cheek.

‘Information about my family.’

I felt a shock run through my spine. Tadeusz had been captured by the Mongols more than twenty-five years ago, when they devastated his home town of Breslau. He had always told us that his wife and children had died in the attack. Was he now suggesting that Ko Su-Tsung had news of them? It was impossible. Or was it? Ko, as master of the Censorate, a department that spied on all the officials who worked for Kubilai, had unprecedented access to records and files to do with the running of the empire. Could he have found something out? I put an arm on Tadeusz’s shoulder.

‘Do you really think he knows what happened to them?’

He sighed deeply.

‘I don’t think so, but I couldn’t just ignore it, could I? What if they were still alive?’

My heart went out to this man I had just recently almost written off as a traitor. As a man myself who had lost one he loved in Venice, I could understand his dilemma. I personally thought Ko was playing him, and had no real information to sell, but I would stand by him.

‘Tadeusz, you should have come to us as soon as Ko approached you. We are your friends and we would have helped.’

He stared me in the face for the first time since he had been accused.

‘I know that now. But I was fearful of losing everything all over again.’

Lin, who was usually embarrassed by shows of affection, touched Tadeusz briefly on the arm.

‘You won’t lose anything, least of all our friendship. I will help you find this information about your family, if it exists. And in the meantime, you will continue reporting to Ko.’

Tadeusz looked aghast.

‘You want me to continue spying on you?’

Lin smiled that little secret smile of his.

‘No, but you will send letters back to Ko, misleading him about our investigation to such an extent he will be humiliated on our triumphant return to Tatu.’

I clapped a relieved Tadeusz on the back, and roared with laughter at Lin’s clever stratagem.

‘Now, let’s have some supper together. I have a play script to show you all.’

The meal was a restrained affair, especially as Lin and I had agreed we would say nothing to anyone else about Tadeusz’s misdemeanour. Po Ku, who served us, was indifferent to the atmosphere anyway. But I think Gurbesu suspected something was wrong. Tadeusz was more subdued than normal, and only replied tersely to her when she asked for news about the errant doctor. She cast a glance at me, so I shook my head slightly and she got the hint. She stopped pressing him.

Once Po Ku had cleared the remains of our meal, I produced the linen-wrapped parcel. Handing it over to Lin, I invited him to read it.

‘This is what we have been looking for. The text of the play with Nu’s hints hidden in it.’

Eagerly, Lin unwrapped it, revealing a stained and well-thumbed set of sheets stitched together along the top edge. He began to leaf through the pages, muttering the lines to himself under his breath. Impatient to learn what secrets the play script held, I began to form a question. But before it could emerge from my lips, Lin held up his hand. I quelled my bubbling curiosity, and Tadeusz, Gurbesu and I sat in silence while Lin scanned the script. Only when he had turned the last page did he comment.

‘I now can guess what Nu saw, or thought he saw.’ He waved the script in the air. ‘This is a fair copy of the original text — or as close as any copy ever is — and in it are Nu’s amendments. See, he has scribbled one in on this page and scored the original out.’

I looked closely, and could see where a change had been made, though I did not understand the words.

‘What does it say?’

‘It should read, “Who could have guessed behind that smile a dagger lay; or that my eyes beheld my own lonely gravesite.” But he changed the end of the lines to read, “Or that my eyes beheld the person who sold the poison.”’

I leaned forward excitedly.

‘Nu did see something at Geng’s house. What else did you find?’

‘Well, I remembered a line about monkshood, and I thought it was relevant to our case. But it was just coincidence. The line really does read, “Get your monkshood, your mountain fennel.” But Nu has drawn a circle round the symbol for monkshood all the same, giving it emphasis. However there can be no doubt about this other textual change.’

Lin flicked through the sheets until he found what he was looking for. He took a deep breath and declaimed the proper lines.

‘“Keep the memory safely locked in your head; never hesitate, never wonder am I right?” But now it reads, “Keep the memory safely locked in your head; the boy ensured that he was dead.”

For me, that was the final clincher. Ho had told me via the priestess that he had stolen this script from Geng’s house. The only person who could have therefore taken it from the storeroom of plays at the theatre in order to suppress the clear hints in the text, and who had therefore probably been at the play to witness the new lines, was Old Geng’s son.

Wenbo had to be the killer.