The Corpse Reader

24

Further examination confirmed Cí’s assertion: the corpse had no female reproductive organs. Kan was astonished. Seating himself on a bench, he asked Cí to go on.

With a confident tone, Cí went on to assert that the wound to the lung had been the sole cause of death. Though its edges didn’t have the hard, pinkish patches produced when living flesh is cut—nor did the ankle and neck stumps, nor did the gash around the sex—Cí found definitive signs of collapse in the lung, which happened only when a living person’s lung was punctured.

He rejected the idea that an animal had been involved. The lung had clearly been removed with a great degree of brutality, as if someone had been trying to access the heart, but, he pointed out, there were no scratches or bite marks, nothing to indicate the involvement of any large animal. And though the ribs had been broken, they were clean breaks, as if made by some kind of tool. It seemed, in any case, as though the murderer had been looking for something inside the corpse. And it would appear that whatever it was had been found.

“Why? What might he have been looking for?” asked Kan.

“That I don’t know. Maybe an arrowhead broke off inside and the killer tried to remove it because, say, it was reinforced with some kind of precious metal or something else that would point to the culprit.”

“As for the amputations…”

“I believe they were a red herring. Professor Ming’s idea that the corpse belonged to a noblewoman, and that the feet had been removed to prevent her identification—though an excellent reflection—is, I think, what the murderer wanted us to believe. Add that to the smooth, feminine body, and the breasts above all—”

“Male genitalia, but also breasts? Should we be thinking about the victim as some kind of aberration of nature?”

“Not at all. The deceased was, in fact, none other than an Imperial eunuch.”

But Cí’s astuteness did not have the desired effect. From the way Kan clenched his fists and muttered under his breath, it seemed that he was kicking himself for not having drawn the same conclusion. Everyone knew that eunuchs often developed feminine features, especially those castrated before puberty. Kan glared at Cí as though he were responsible for the oversight, as if he had somehow caused Kan to misinterpret the evidence.

“That will be all,” he hissed.

On their way back to the academy, Ming asked Cí to explain his logic.

“I worked it out during your remarks, when you said it would have been easy to identify the woman by her deformed feet…”

“Yes?”

“Well, as you yourself pointed out, foot binding is only something the upper classes do. Kan would definitely have known that. So we have to assume he’d already interviewed all the noble families about a disappearance. Since he asked you to help, it must have been because those interviews bore no fruit.”

“But from there to saying the corpse was a eunuch?”

“Something just struck me. Right after I arrived in Lin’an I was unfortunate enough to witness a castration of a child whose parents wanted the boy to be an Imperial eunuch. That poor boy has stayed with me so strongly…And then all the details fell into place.”

Ming didn’t say another word on their way back to the academy. Cí tried to guess his mood, but his clenched jaw and hard eyes didn’t bode well. Cí thought his pride might have been hurt by not figuring out the eunuch. The situation reminded him of when he’d tried to help Feng and it had ended worse than he could have imagined, with his brother being accused. Although Cí had already effectively been expelled, he had a feeling things were about to get even worse.

As they arrived at the academy, Ming announced that he had a meeting, and that Cí was to wait for him so they could talk. He said he would be back by nightfall.

No sooner had Cí crossed the academy threshold than the guard appeared and took him by the arm.

“A man came by earlier,” he said, leading Cí into the gardens, “and claimed to be your friend. I told him you weren’t here and he went into a rage, so I kicked him out.” He lowered his voice, stopping to face Cí. “He said something about being a fortune-teller, about a reward or something. I thought you should know. Be careful. If the professors see you hanging around with his kind, they won’t like it. Not one bit.”

Cí flushed. Xu had found him, and it would seem he was ready to follow through on his threats. Cí felt his world crashing down. He was being kicked out of the academy, and Xu was going to be there waiting to report him the moment he set foot on the streets. Even though Ming had told him to wait, Cí knew he had to pack his things and flee the city before things got any worse.

Cí wandered through the academy for the last time. The empty classrooms struck him as somehow desolate, as if the sorrow crushing him were contagious. The walls seemed like mute witnesses to his vain efforts; they were part of the dream from which he was now forced to wake. When he passed the library and its shelves lined with generations’ worth of knowledge, it felt like a hammer’s blow to his already dejected state of mind.

Night was falling as he made his way along the streets of Lin’an. He walked aimlessly through the city he knew so well. He thought that he would walk until he happened upon a wagon or a boat—anything—that could take him far away. He went to the house he’d lived in with his parents and Third in what seemed another lifetime, and he stopped, silently wishing that someone would come to a window, open it, call out to him. But no one came. He was about to continue on, when all of a sudden four soldiers came around the corner and ordered him to stop. He recognized one of them from the palace.

“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.”

Cí’s heart was racing.

“Councilor,” he said, bowing. “I don’t know if I’m up to this…”

Kan gave him a cold look.

“No one’s asking you.”

Kan led the way to the legal archives. He seemed in a hurry, as if he wanted to rid himself of Cí as soon as he could. Gradually the dank, narrow passages gave way to tiled galleries. The Hall of Secrets took Cí’s breath away; it was an infinite labyrinth in comparison with the academy library. Shelves full of all kinds of volumes stretched into the distance and went all the way to the high ceiling. Sunlight broke in through a high window. Kan took a seat at a black lacquer table on which a single dossier lay. He flicked through its pages for a minute and then invited Cí to sit.

“I happened to overhear some of what you were saying to Bo. I might as well spell it out: that the emperor has given you this opportunity does not mean I personally have any confidence in you. Our judicial system is inflexible with any who try to corrupt or violate it, and our judges have grown old in the study and application of that system. You might be vain enough to speculate as to the worth of these judges. Maybe in your eyes they seem like nothing more than obstacles, unable to see beyond the ends of their own noses. But mark my words: should you dare to doubt the abilities of my men, I promise you’ll regret it.”

Cí made a show of submission. Deep down, though, he knew that if these judges were any good, he wouldn’t have been brought there in the first place.

Kan directed Cí’s attention to the dossier.

“These are the reports on the three dead people. And here’s a brush and ink. Read the reports and then record your opinion.” Kan took out a square seal and handed it to Cí. “Any time you need access to any of the rooms, present this to the sentries for them to mark the registers.”

“May I ask who carried out the examinations?”

“Their signatures are at the bottom of each report.”

Cí had a quick look.

“These are the judges’ names. I mean, who performed the physical examinations?”

“A wu-tso like you.”

Cí frowned. Wu-tso was a derogatory term for someone who did autopsies and cleaned corpses. But he decided it was better not to argue. He nodded and returned to the reports. He soon put them aside.

“There’s nothing here about the evil that Bo told me about. He mentioned that something terrible was happening in the city, but these reports are only about the three corpses. There’s no mention of motives or suspects.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any additional information.”

“But if you want me to help you, councilor, I need to know—”

“You? Help me?” Kan leaned across the table toward Cí. “It seems you’ve understood absolutely nothing. Personally, I couldn’t care less what you find out, get it? It will be better for you if you do as you’re told. That way, maybe, you’ll help yourself.”

Cí bit his tongue. He looked through the reports again. There was nothing there. Any idiot could have written them.

“Councilor,” he said, getting to his feet. “I will need a place where I can carry out a detailed examination of the corpses. And I need my instruments. As soon as possible. Also, I will need to consult a perfume maker, Lin’an’s best.”

Kan’s face tensed and his one eye opened wide. Cí tried not to let Kan’s evident surprise at his requests get to him. Determined to succeed at this new opportunity, Cí needed to make sure he had his instruments and as much information as possible.

“Should there be more murders, I must be informed immediately, regardless of the hour, or where the body is found. The body mustn’t be tampered with or cleaned until I arrive, not even by a judge. Any witnesses should be detained. I’ll also need the best portraitist in the city, not one of those who make the princes look nice, but someone able to capture reality.

“Also, I need to know any information there is on the eunuch who was killed: his role in the palace; his tastes, vices, and virtues; whether he had any lovers, male or female; if he kept in contact with his family; his possessions; anyone he fraternized with. I need to know what he ate and drank and how much time he spent in the toilet.

“A list of all the sects would be useful,” Cí went on. “The Taoists, the Buddhists, the Nestorians, the Manicheans, anyone who has been investigated for practicing occultism, witchcraft, or any kind of illicit act. Finally, I want a full list of every single death in the city in the last six months that has happened under strange circumstances—any police report, anything about people disappearing, and absolutely any witness who, however distant the link may seem, could possibly be related to these deaths.”

“Bo will take care of it.”

“I would also appreciate a map of the palace including details on all the officials and their functions.”

“I’ll try to have an artist make one up.”

“And one last thing.”

“Yes?”

“I need someone to help me. I’m not going to be able to solve these cases alone. Master Ming could—”

“I’ve already thought of that. Someone I hope you’ll be able to trust.”

The councilor got up and clapped his hands twice. A door creaked open at the end of the hallway. Cí looked toward the light in the doorway and saw a slim silhouette coming toward them. As the person came closer, Cí shuddered. He’d know that condescending smile and gray-streaked hair anywhere: Gray Fox.

“Councilor,” he stuttered, “excuse my insistence, but I really don’t believe Gray Fox is the best person for this job. It would be better—”

“Enough of your demands! Gray Fox has my wholehearted approval, something you are far from achieving. The two of you will work together; anything you find out I want you to share with him, and vice versa. Gray Fox will be my eyes and ears during this investigation, so you would be better off working with him than against.”

“But he betrayed me once. He never—”

“Enough! I won’t listen to another word. Gray Fox is my brother’s son!”

Gray Fox waited for Kan to leave before turning to Cí with a smirk.

“So! We meet again,” he said.

“A bit of ill luck,” shrugged Cí, not bothering to look at Gray Fox.

“And look how far you’ve come! The emperor’s very own Corpse Reader.” He took the dossier and sat down.

“Whereas you,” said Cí, ripping the dossier from Gray Fox’s hands, “are still clutching at whatever you can get.”

They faced each other and stood so close their noses were nearly touching.

“Isn’t life just full of coincidences?” said Gray Fox, eventually taking a step back. “In fact, my first job for the court happened to be investigating the death of that sheriff. The one we examined in the prefecture. Kao was his name.”

A shudder ran through Cí.

“I don’t know who you mean.” Cí tried to keep his voice steady.

“Oh, that’s odd. In fact, the more I find out about that sheriff, the odder the whole thing becomes. Did you know he’d traveled from Fujian in search of a fugitive? It seems there was a reward involved.”

“Why would I know about that?”

“Apart from the fact you’re from Fujian yourself? Wasn’t that what you said at your presentation at the academy?”

“Fujian’s a big province. Thousands of people must arrive from there every day. Why don’t you ask them?”

“So suspicious, Cí! I only mention it seeing as we’re such good friends.” He sneered. “Still, quite a coincidence…”

“And you haven’t found the name of the fugitive?”

“Not yet. It seems this Sheriff Kao kept himself to himself, barely talked about the case.”

Cí felt as if he could breathe again. He considered trying to change the subject, but he knew he needed to appear interested.

“Strange, though. The judiciary doesn’t offer rewards, does it?”

“Quite strange. Maybe the reward was from some rich landowner.”

“Maybe the sheriff was close to solving the case and thought about taking the reward for himself,” suggested Cí. “Maybe that was why he was killed.”

“Could be.” Gray Fox appeared to weigh his words. “For now, I’ve sent a post to the Jianningfu authorities. I expect to have the fugitive’s name in less than two weeks. And then, catching him will be as easy as can be.”