Lady Li sipped her tea and nodded. “It would seem that way. But now I am trapped here, in the legation! I cannot send a message to the Chinese investigator to let him know what happened. They might execute the wrong man!”
“Oh!” Mr. Big gasped, leaning back. “You mean the boyfriend. The one who was employed by the Belvederes. It was a big display when he was arrested. Everyone thought he must have done it. Poor fellow. What a tragedy.”
“Can you help me get a message out of the legation?” Lady Li asked. “The post office is closed and I cannot leave.”
Mr. Big sighed. “I’m sorry. I can’t force the post office to open. But I am sure they will reopen tomorrow morning.”
“What am I to do for tonight?” Lady Li asked. “Where am I to stay?”
He chuckled. “I’m sure it wouldn’t do for you to stay with me.”
She held out her hands helplessly. “I’m sure it wouldn’t look good. I have friends here in the legation. Mrs. Gibson and Lady Highcastle. But they know me for who I am, a lady. I can’t go to them dressed as a maid.”
“Oh, I’m sure I could find you something to wear,” he said, hopping off his stool and going into a back room. He returned a moment later with a blue English-style walking dress. “It is hopelessly out of fashion. I wouldn’t be able to get much for it. But it might do just for now.”
Lady Li held up the gown and looked at it. It reminded her of the dress she wore the first time she returned to the legation, the one that was also out of date.
“Fortunately, the ladies are used to seeing me wear clothes that are old-fashioned,” she said.
“Well, this will be perfect,” Mr. Big said. “Let’s put it on you and I can pin it to make it look like it fits.”
“You are too kind,” Lady Li said, clutching the dress to her chest. “How can I ever repay you?”
He leaned in again. “Honey, just be sure to come back and tell me all the naughty details you learn while staying with the Gibsons and we are golden.”
Lady Li couldn’t help but laugh.
Lady Li nervously rang the bell at the Gibsons’ home. She self-consciously ran her fingers over a frayed edge of her borrowed gown. She hoped they wouldn’t notice just how badly damaged the dress was. It had been sitting in a box in Mr. Big’s shop for months, apparently, but it was the only one they found that he could pin tight enough to fit her.
A maid opened the door and her mouth gawped.
“Mrs. Gibson, please,” Lady Li said quickly. The maid shut the door. She returned only a moment later, ushering Lady Li inside. She was led to the same parlor as before. As soon as she entered the room, Mrs. Gibson rushed to take her hands.
“Lady Li!” she cried. “How are you? How did you even get in? Did you see the trouble at the gate?”
Mr. Gibson was there as well, a concerned look on his face, though he said nothing.
“I’m am fine,” Lady Li said. “Though in a bit of trouble. They have locked the gate. No one can get in or out. I am trapped here.”
“Well, how ridiculous is that?” Mrs. Gibson said, looking to her husband. “I can understand only letting residents in or out, but people who don’t live here? Absurd! Surely you can do something.”
He nodded and headed out of the room. “I will see what I can do.”
Mrs. Gibson placed her arm around Lady Li’s shoulder and ushered her to one of the plush couches. “I had heard they were not letting non-residents in the legation for several days. How did you get inside in the first place?”
“Oh?” Lady Li asked, feigning innocence. “I didn’t realize. I was only coming to call on you and they simply let me in. They must have thought I was a maid or something.”
“How dreadful!” Mrs. Gibson said, clicking her tongue. “Well, we will have to talk about the lax security around here, especially in such a dangerous time. Not that I am unhappy to see you, my dear.”
“I completely understand,” Lady Li replied. “I was inside, still near the gate when I heard the gun shots. It was quite unnerving.”
“I am sure it was!” Mrs. Gibson said, patting her hand. “Everyone is rather on edge.”
“And have they still not found out who killed your maid?” Lady Li asked. “One tragedy after another.”
“Well, I think everyone is certain the young man from across the street did it,” Mrs. Gibson said. “It usually is a lovers’ quarrel, these sorts of things.”
Lady Li nodded sympathetically, wondering just how acquainted Mrs. Gibson was with lovers’ quarrels that ended in death.
“Have you been able to find a new maid?” Lady Li asked.
Mrs. Gibson sighed. “No, not yet. I dread having to go through the process again.”
“Again?” Lady Li asked.
“Well, Weilin had been with us for some time, but we have had other maids and kitchen staff leave on an almost rotating basis!” she explained. “They never seem to last more than a few months.”
“Why do you think that is?” Lady Li asked, though she had a theory of her own.
“Who can tell?” Mrs. Gibson asked. “Work ethic I suppose. We never had this problem retaining staff in England.”
Or maybe Mr. Gibson didn’t have a habit of forcing himself on his English staff, Lady Li thought to herself bitterly.
They both looked up when they heard the door open. “Well, she’s right,” Mr. Gibson announce. “They aren’t letting anyone in or out. I tried to reason with Chief Barnhart, that the young woman doesn’t live here and needed to return to her own family, but he wouldn’t hear of it. She’s stuck here, it seems.”
“I can’t even get a letter out?” Lady Li asked. “I went to the post office first thing and they were closed. I would like to let my children know that I am at least safe.”
He sat on a chair across from them and shook his head. “I’m afraid not,” he said. “They don’t want anyone leaving their homes, so that means no businesses can be open either.”
“How ridiculous!” his wife exclaimed.
“I know it seems extreme and inconvenient,” Mr. Gibson replied. “But it is for everyone’s safety. They said they will consider allowing only the most necessary businesses open tomorrow.”
“Then I suppose you are stuck here, my dear,” Mrs. Gibson said, reaching over and patting Lady Li’s hand.
“I am so sorry to be a bother,” Lady Li said, genuinely distraught over being unable to get a message to Inspector Gong or her family. With her gone, Concubine Swan would be the mistress of the house. She worried what the girl would do in her absence. At least Popo would be there to mind the children.
“You are no trouble at all!” Mrs. Gibson said, her face lighting up. “You can stay in the guest room. And I am sure I can find something suitable for you to sleep in. And we can have a lovely dinner.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Lady Li said.
After an early dinner and drinks by the fireplace, Mrs. Gibson led Lady Li to the guest room. She was able to find an appropriate nightgown among her daughter’s things. Once Mrs. Gibson had left, Lady Li inspected the room she was in. The window faced the street and the houses across it. She remembered that Weilin had been killed in a room facing the street. She looked around the room, but did not see anything out of place. Surely they had not put her in the same room where a girl had been killed only days before.
She returned to the window and looked out it. There were some smudges on the glass. She reached up with the sleeve of her gown to wipe them away and noticed that the calking was bright white around some of the panes. They had been newly replaced. She gasped. These must have been the panes that had been shattered by the arrow. This was the room where Weilin had been killed! How grotesque!
Lady Li shook her head and climbed into bed. She shivered, but not from the cold. The girl’s murder had not yet been solved. Her body had not yet been laid to rest. Her spirit was most likely still trapped here in this room. No food had been left out. The ghost was probably beyond starving.
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“I’m sorry,” Lady Li whispered. “We are very close to finding your killer. I promise.”
She felt a slight breeze blow through the room and she felt a chill up her spine. She thought at first that Weilin’s ghost must be nearby, but then she noticed the door to the room was slowly opening.
“Lady Li?” Mr. Gibson asked, peeking his head into the room. “Are you there?”
Lady Li jumped from the bed and pulled a thin blanket about her. “What do you want?” she asked.
He entered the room with a smile and closed the door. “Forgive me,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable. My wife has already gone to bed with a headache so she sent me to check on you.”
Lady Li wondered if Mrs. Gibson regularly went to bed with headaches. “I’m fine,” she said. “Well, as fine as can be considered what happened in this room.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t realize that,” he said. “I am sorry, but this is the only unoccupied room in the house at the moment. I hope you are not too uncomfortable.”
“I would be more comfortable if you would send a servant up with some warm food,” she said. “You need to care for the girl’s spirit until she can be sent to the next life. She will be starving.”
Mr. Gibson laughed, then he realized she was not laughing with him. “You are serious?”
“I would not joke about sharing a room with a hungry ghost,” Lady Li said.
Mr. Gibson rolled his eyes. “You pathetic heathens are all the same. Even someone has high-class as yourself still believes the stupidest things.”
“How dare you?” Lady Li said, her eyes burning with fury.
“Stupid,” he repeated, but then he licked his lips. “But endlessly beautiful.” He stepped closer to her. “Such lithe bodies. Long, silken hair.” He reached out as if to touch her but she slapped his hand.
“Do not touch me,” she ordered.
He laughed. “You have more spirit than your predecessors.”
“I am not a servant,” she said. “I don’t have to accept your advances to keep my job. Get out of my room or I will scream.”
“And who will believe you?” he asked. “Servant, concubine, wife. Aren’t all you Chinese women the same? Your only purpose is to serve a man. But you don’t have a man, do you, Widow Li?”
“I am Lady Li,” she said. “And you will address me as such.”
“I’ve never been with a Chinese lady before,” he said, reaching out and taking a stand of her hair in his hand. “Your men do a good job keeping you hidden. This could be quite a pleasurable experience, for both of us.”
She shook her hair free from his hand and moved back again. “You were here that night, weren’t you? The night Weilin was killed.”
“It was a shocking sight,” he said. “We were standing over there, on the other side of the bed. I had ordered her to be here waiting for me while I snuck out of that dreadful play. She had her head down demurely…”
“Think you mean frightened,” Lady Li interrupted. “How could she resist you? Her employer? She had a family to support. You took advantage of her…”
He waved her off. “Oh, they all claim that. Yet every one of them ended up in my bed. It’s a privilege for them to serve me.”
“A privilege?” Lady Li scoffed. “They have all ended up jobless or dead. You ruined their lives!”
“Oh, poppycock!” he blustered. “They are all whores. They can’t help it. Every man here will tell you the same story of how easy it is to seduce their maids.”
Lady Li couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Bolin had said that all the maids were chaste to protect their jobs, yet most of them were probably having to face down their employers every night. The poor girls. She would need to speak to the mission about it. They were the ones arranging employment for the girls who could speak English. They needed to know about this.
“I am not a servant, nor a whore,” Lady Li said. “You will get out of my room, now.”
“Come now, Lady Li,” he said, rushing up to her and pinning her arms to her side. “Don’t you want to know what a proper English cock could do for you? Surely you need it.”
“This is your last warning,” Lady Li said firmly.
He reached up and grabbed her breast. He groaned, first with pleasure, and then with pain as Lady Li’s knee met his groin. He slowly sunk to the floor. Once again, Prince Kung’s training had come in useful.
“Get out of my room,” Lady Li said. “And have some food brought up for Weilin’s ghost, or you will never use that cock again.”
“You will pay for this,” he grunted as he made his way to his feet, but he remained hunched over. He stumbled to the door and out to the hallway.
Lady Li let out a relieved sigh. She climbed back into her bed even though she knew she wouldn’t sleep that night. She felt a warmth envelop her, and she had a feeling Weilin’s ghost was pleased.
Mr. Gibson did not return to Lady Li’s room that night.
The next morning, she was surprised to receive a breakfast tray in her room. She thought maybe Mr. Gibson was punishing her, but the maid explained that it was normal for married women to have breakfast in their rooms.
“How odd,” Lady Li said.
“My lady,” the maid said hesitantly. “I…we…the girls downstairs, we just wanted you to know that we know what you did…to Mr. Gibson.”
Lady Li looked up at her. “And…?” she asked, wondering if she was about to get a chastisement from a servant.
“It was brave of you,” she said. “We are glad he finally got what he deserved.”
“He deserves far worse,” Lady Li said.
“We saw him limping down the stairs,” she said as she covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. “And he saw us laughing at him.”
“I hope I didn’t make your lives more difficult,” Lady Li said.
“I doubt that could be the case, ma’am,” she said. “But don’t worry about us. All life is suffering, and this is only temporary.”
Lady Li gave the girl a wan smile. She had not relied on her Buddhist teachings for years. She was glad the girls found some comfort in them.
“I only wish I could do more,” she said.
The maid waved her off. “I also thought you would like to know that the post office is open. I don’t think they are opening the gates yet, but you can at least send a message to your daughters.”
Lady Li nearly jumped out of bed. “Help me dress,” she said.
21
Inspector Gong was out of time. He had one day to name the killer. Even though he had two strong suspects—the boyfriend and the brother—he couldn’t be certain of either one. He felt like he was missing something. He was hesitant to act without whatever information Lady Li had gained from inside the legation, but he had no idea when he would hear from her again. The post office was closed, but no one could even get a message to him since no one was allowed out.
He would have to solve this case on his own.
He went back to the Ministry of Justice to interrogate the brother one more time. He would either get a confession out of him or the brother would name the real killer.
When he opened the door to the cell, he was shocked at the state the brother was in. He was still groggy and his eyes glazed over as though he was still under the effects of the opium. He was shaking to the point of convulsing.
“What’s wrong with him?” he asked the guard.
“When we lock up opium eaters, they often act this way when they can’t have their opium,” the guard said. “But this…” He shook his head. “This is the worst I have seen. I think the opium destroyed his brain.”
Inspector Gong shut the door and dragged Jiaolong to a sitting position. “Sit up,” he ordered. The boy sat as best he could, but it was like his body was noodles as he slumped over.
“How long have you been eating opium?” Inspector Gong asked.
“How many grains of sand are in the sea?” the boy asked.
> Inspector Gong slapped the boy across the face. “Wake up and answer me,” he said.
Jiaolong opened his eyes and did his best to sit up, but it clearly took a lot of effort.
“You said you dreamed of killing your sister,” he said. “Tell me your dream. What did you see?”
Jiaolong looked at his hands. “I hide the bow and arrow in the leg of my pants. The clothes, I stole them, but I don’t remember from who. I walk up to the legation, they just let me in. They think I’m a goddamn running dog.”
“Running dog” was what people called Chinese who wanted to be like the foreigners. It was usually reserved for Chinese Christians, but anyone who did the bidding of a foreigner could be called a running dog.
Inspector Gong nodded. He remembered that even on tightened security, the guards simply admitted Lady Li to the legation when they thought she was a maid. So far, his story made perfect sense.
“I go to the house where I know my sister is living. It is dark, but I know she is there. I look down the street and I see him, the man she lets touch her, coming toward me. I look at the house across the street. I open my arms and I fly to the roof.”
Inspector Gong tried not to groan as he sighed. Jiaolong probably didn’t remember how he made it to the roof so his mind was filling in the blanks. He just nodded for the boy to continue.
“There is a light on in one room,” he says. “She is looking out the window. She is crying. I see him enter the house. I raise my bow. I want to kill him. I’m supposed to kill him. He is the opium king.”
“What do you mean you are supposed to kill him?” Inspector Gong asked. “Did someone order you to do it?”
“I only have one arrow,” the boy continues as if he didn’t hear the question. “So I wait. She moves away from the window when he enters the room. He approaches her. She steps back. He puts his hands on her. He kisses her. Damn bitch. She let him do it! She pulls away from him and stands by the window. I let my arrow fly.”
The Qing Dynasty Mysteries - Books 1-3 Page 31