The Corpse Reader

28

Finding out that Blue Iris was Fei Yue’s descendant was shocking. But there it was. Kan suspected that this delicate, perfectly mannered, glacier-eyed woman was responsible for the death of three men.

Cí managed a “nice to meet you,” but he was both transfixed and troubled by Blue Iris’s serenity and disquieting beauty. There was a coldness to her that brought to mind a viper, so calm before it strikes.

Blue Iris, oblivious to Cí’s sudden anxieties, asked what his job as Kan’s assistant involved.

Kan answered for Cí. “This is why I wanted you to meet,” he said. “Cí’s working on a report on the northern tribes, and I thought you might be able to help him. You’re still involved in your father’s business affairs, isn’t that right?”

“As much as I’m able. My life has changed considerably since I married, but of course, you already know about that…” She paused for a moment before addressing Cí. “So, you’re looking into the Jin? You’re in luck, then, aren’t you? You can speak to the ambassador personally.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Kan. “The ambassador’s a busy man. Almost as busy as me!”

“And is he busy with women’s affairs, too?”

“Iris, Iris, always so ironic.” Kan grimaced. “Cí doesn’t want the words of a man versed in pure deception. He’s after the truth.”

“Can’t he speak for himself?” asked Blue Iris provocatively.

“I like to be respectful of my elders,” Cí said.

He saw she’d noticed the slight and allowed himself a wicked smile. Then he looked at Kan for some idea of where this was all heading. He was starting to sense that Kan and Blue Iris’s connection might not be a straightforward one.

Suddenly Cí saw a silhouette outlined against the lantern light. Cí thought it was the bronze maker from dinner. When Kan saw him, he got up.

“Please excuse me,” said the councilor as he headed after the bronze maker. “I have something to attend to.”

Cí chewed his lip. He was unsure of what to say. He drummed his fingers against the side of the teacup before bringing it to his mouth.

“Nervous?” asked Blue Iris.

“Should I be?”

Just then, he had the thought the tea might have been spiked and decided against drinking more. When he looked up, he noticed Blue Iris seemed to be staring at him oddly, but he didn’t know why.

“So,” she said. “Respect for your elders? How old are you?”

“Twenty-four,” he said, adding two years to his actual age.

“And how old would you say I am?”

Feeling protected by the darkness, Cí looked directly at Blue Iris. The orange light from the lantern softened her sculpted face and smoothed her few wrinkles. Her breasts were full under her silk hanfu robe, and her waist, which, since she was seated, was as far down as Cí could see, was quite small. She didn’t seem uncomfortable as he looked at her body. Her strangely gray eyes sparkled.

“Thirty-five,” he said, though if he were being honest he would have said a few years older.

She arched an eyebrow.

“To work with Kan you need to be either fearless or stupid. Which would you say you are?”

Her bluntness surprised him. He didn’t know what she thought of him, but she must have been very sure of herself to criticize Kan to one of his employees, particularly one she’d never met before.

“Maybe I’m the kind of person who doesn’t insult people I don’t know,” he replied.

She grimaced and looked down, which Cí interpreted as a sort of apology.

“Sorry, but I’ve always had issues with that man.” She spilled some of the tea she was pouring. “He knows full well I have scant knowledge of the Jin, so I’m not sure how I can be of assistance.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your work? You’re clearly no housewife.”

“It’s low work,” she said, sipping her tea.

“I find that hard to believe.”

Blue Iris weighed her words for a moment.

“I inherited a salt export business. Dealings with barbarians are always tricky, but my father knew how to handle them and managed to set up some warehouses near the frontier. In spite of the obstacles the government put in his way, they became lucrative quite quickly. Now I run them.”

“Government obstacles?”

“Unhappy tales shouldn’t be told on happy occasions.”

“But from what you say, it sounds like risky work for a woman on her own.”

“Whoever said I was on my own?”

Cí, unsure how to respond, went back to his tea.

“Kan mentioned something about your husband. I suppose you mean him.”

“Kan talks too much. My husband is involved in lots of things,” she said bitterly.

“And where is now?”

“Abroad. He travels a lot. But why all the questions about him? I thought it was the Jin you were interested in.”

“Among other things.”

Cí felt the situation was getting out of hand. His fingers began drumming his cup again. The silence felt heavy, and he thought Blue Iris must be thinking the same. Time was against him, but he couldn’t think how to get the conversation going. She took out a fan, and, as she began fanning herself, Cí could suddenly smell an intense and familiar fragrance.

“Essence of Jade?”

“What?”

“The perfume, it’s Essence of Jade. How did you come by that?”

“That’s the kind of question you can ask only certain types of women,” she said, smiling coyly. “And an answer that can be given only to certain types of men.”

“Even so,” he said insistently.

Blue Iris’s answer was to finish her tea and get up to leave.

Cí was going to try to make her stay when suddenly there was an explosion. Cí looked up. The night sky was filled with brilliant green and red bursts of light.

“Fireworks!” Cí was awed by the flowery forms. “Beautiful.” He looked across at Blue Iris, expecting her to agree, but she wasn’t even watching. “Look,” he said.

At this, she turned toward him. Her eyes were motionless despite the explosions of light.

“I wish I could,” she said.

Cí watched as she turned away, searching out obstacles in her path with the use of a walking stick.

On his way back to the palace, Cí peered into the crowd—all the guests looked skyward, transfixed by the pyrotechnic display. He began searching for Kan, going to the balcony, the Welcome Hall, and the small annex rooms before trying the garden again. Cí sat and watched the fireworks until the display was over and the guests were swathed in a dense, acrid fog. Both the fog and the odor reminded Cí of the night Lu’s house had burned down, killing his family…

Cí’s thoughts turned to his father. Not a day passed that they didn’t.

It must have been after midnight when he finally caught sight of Kan moving through the thickets at the periphery of the gardens. He had someone with him. Cí headed toward them, but when he saw who it was, he froze. It was the Jin ambassador, and the two of them were having an animated conversation. Cí decided not to approach them. He was confused about everything, and the hours of drinking had had their effect.

The next morning another dead body was discovered. Cí was shaken awake by a surly official and led to the examination room. All he could tell Cí was that the body had been found just outside the palace walls. Kan was waiting for them when they got there, along with an inspector.

The body was laid out in the middle of the room. Like Soft Dolphin, it had been decapitated.

Cí scanned the superficial report that had already been filed—it noted little more than the number of wounds and the skin color. Then he asked permission to begin his own examination.

The first thing that drew his attention was the neck wound; unlike the eunuch’s, the edges of this one were ragged. Cí concluded that the murderer must have killed in a hurry. The opening in the chest was shallower than on the other bodies. There were scratches at the nape of the neck that extended to the shoulders. The backs of the hands and the sides of the ankles had similar scratch marks. Cí pointed them out to Kan.

“The body was dragged along the ground,” said Cí. It was dressed when it was dragged—otherwise the same scratches would have occurred on the buttocks.”

He removed the traces of dirt from under the fingernails and on the skin with his pincers, depositing them in a small jar. Then, noting that the arms and legs were too stiff to bend at the elbows or knees, which meant that rigor mortis was setting in, he estimated that the murder must have occurred within the past six hours.

Suddenly he stopped. He caught a waft of a familiar scent.

“Don’t you smell that?”

“What?” asked Kan.

“Perfume.”

He leaned in close to the wound on the chest and smelled around there. Frowning, he stood up. Essence of Jade, without a doubt. The same as he’d smelled on Blue Iris the previous evening. This, though, he decided not to mention to Kan.

“And the clothes?” Cí asked.

“The body was found naked,” said the councilor.

“No objects with him, or anything to help identify him?”

“No, nothing…”

“There were the rings,” pointed out the inspector.

“What rings?” said Cí.

“Oh, I forgot about them!” said Kan, showing Cí over to a small table on which a number of rings lay. Cí could hardly believe it.

“Don’t you recognize them?”

“No,” said Kan. “Why should I?”

“Because they belonged to the bronze maker we sat with last night.”

When Cí and Kan were alone, Cí expressed his reservations about Blue Iris’s involvement.

“She’s blind, for goodness’ sake!”

“That woman’s a devil, let me assure you,” said Kan. “Or if I’m wrong, tell me, how long did it take you to work out she was blind? How long did she have you fooled?”

“OK, but can you really imagine someone who can’t see cutting off heads and dragging bodies around?”

“Don’t be stupid!” Kan’s face hardened. “No one said it was she who was doing the actual dirty work.”

“Ah! No? In that case, who?”

“If I knew that, would I be here helping you?” roared Kan, and he took a swipe at Cí’s equipment, scattering it across the floor.

Blood rushed to Cí’s face. He took a deep breath and began picking up his things.

“Councilor, everybody knows there are many kinds of killers. But let’s put aside the kind who doesn’t set out intending to kill: normal people who lose their grip on reason in a fight, or find their woman in bed with another man. Those are the people who would never murder if they were in their right mind.” He finished picking up his equipment. “Let’s turn our thoughts to the true murderers, the monsters.

“There are groups within this group. Some act out of a kind of lustiness, and they are as insatiable as sharks. In general they kill women and children, and they don’t tend to be happy only killing. First they profane and destroy; later they massacre. Then there are the violent ones: men capable of taking a life at the tiniest provocation, like tigers who seem quite calm but then devour a person just for pulling out a whisker. Next are the visionaries: made fanatical by ideals or by their involvement in sects, they carry out the most execrable savageries; they are like fighting dogs. But the fourth group is the strangest: they take pleasure from killing. And they can’t be likened to any animal; the evil that dwells in them is infinitely worse. Now, tell me, which group would you put that woman in? The lusty one? The violent one? The visionary one? Or perhaps the pleasure one?”

Kan looked sidelong at Cí.

“Cí, Cí, Cí…I don’t doubt your abilities when it comes to bones, weapons, or worms. For all I know, you could write books, give lectures,” he roared. “But for all your wisdom, you’ve neglected to mention one important group, more bloodthirsty than most, shrewd, calculating: the snakes. A snake is capable of waiting coiled up until just the right moment, hypnotizing the victim before unleashing the deadly poison. This kind of killer is motivated by the venom of revenge, a hate so strong it corrupts the very heart. And, I swear to you, Blue Iris is just such a person.”

“And she hypnotizes her victims?” blurted Cí. “With her blind eyes?”

“There is no one blinder than the person who does not want to see.” Kan punched the table. “You’re so wrapped up in your absurd techniques, you’ve forgotten common sense altogether! I’ve already said she uses accomplices.”

Cí had already decided not to mention that he’d seen Kan conversing with the Jin ambassador. He knew an argument with Kan would get him nowhere.

“OK, you could well be right. So who helped her with the killings? Her husband?”

Kan looked toward the door, on the other side of which the inspector would be waiting. “Let’s go outside,” he said.

Cí put away his equipment and followed. He felt less and less trust in Kan. Why hadn’t he mentioned the rings? Why had he not reacted when Cí identified the corpse as the bronze maker—especially considering Kan was quite possibly the last person to have spoken to the man before he died?

“Forget about Blue Iris’s husband.” He frowned. “I’ve known him a long time, and he’s a good man. A Mongol with a face like a dog but an upright man. His one mistake was marrying that harpy. I think we’d do better to consider him her servant. She brought him from the North to be with her.”

Cí scratched his head. A new suspect.

“OK, but then why haven’t you had him arrested?”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m convinced there are various accomplices. One person wouldn’t be able to commit such atrocious crimes.”

Cí was fed up with all the mystery; it seemed like everyone except him knew what was going on. If Kan’s idea was correct, why wasn’t he going after the Mongol? Or if that was already under way, wasn’t Cí’s own part in the investigation pure absurdity? It had to be a lie cooked up by Kan, he thought.

One thing still didn’t fit: the perfume. Doubtless Kan, with his wide-ranging power, could have taken some and used it to implicate Blue Iris. But Cí failed to see how, if the perfume was exclusively for use by the emperor’s women, Blue Iris might also have some.

This last part he communicated to Kan.

“Didn’t she tell you?” said Kan in surprise. “Blue Iris was a nüshi. She was the emperor’s favorite.”

A nüshi. So that was how Blue Iris had become an intermediary between the nobles and the “flowers”; like a high priestess of pleasure, she knew better than any the art of courtship.

“The emperor likes to treat his guests well, so whenever he can he invites Blue Iris. She’s pure fire, that woman. Despite her age, she’d swallow you up in a second, no question.”

In spite of her blindness, Kan explained, word of her beauty had spread far and wide during the previous emperor’s reign. He had ordered that she join his harem and that her family be compensated.

“She was very young then, and she cast a spell on the emperor. Ningzong’s father no longer had eyes for any of his other concubines. He obsessed over Blue Iris, and he took pleasure in her to the point of exhaustion. When he became ill, he appointed her Imperial nüshi. He was old, and he suffered from numerous ailments, but she saw to it that he lay with concubines frequently—if anything more often than before—and that he had the queen once a month. She was in charge of leading them to the royal bedchamber, placing the ritual silver ring on their right hand, undressing them, spraying Essence of Jade on them, and then witnessing the act itself.” Kan seemed to be conjuring the scene in his mind. “Though blind, they said she enjoyed being there.”

Blue Iris had given up her position when Ningzong came to power, and she went on to run her inherited business with a fist of iron. The man she married, according to Kan, had also been bewitched.

“She’s got something she can turn on to drive men wild. You never know, she might even decide to cast a spell on you!”

Cí considered Kan’s words. He had no time for ideas of witchcraft, but it was true that he couldn’t get Blue Iris out of his mind. There was something about her; he felt his thoughts begin to get tangled as he pictured her…He shook his head to clear his mind.

“And the bronze maker?” asked Cí.

“He seemed nervous when we said good-bye,” said Kan. “I asked him about the new alloy he was working on, the one he kept going on about. You obviously noticed he was a show-off, but I had no idea someone would want to kill him.”

“Not Blue Iris?”

“That’s for you to work out.”