by Raven Bond
The double line of constables were followed by a garish assortment of Hannish and British personages. The Hannish in bright silk robes and the British in dress coats and top hats as brightly colored as the Hannish. Behind them all came a curtained bier bore by four large blond North men. The bier was carefully lowered to the ground. The drums came to an abrupt halt. The courtiers bowed like wheat stalks before a wind.
“Come quickly,” Jinhao murmured to Owen as she sprang forward. The British Sorcerer sprinted to her side, then executed a formal court bow as the curtains parted and a familiar old man stepped from within.
Owen contained his surprise as he recognized the old man with the long white whiskers. He was the same old man that Owen had chatted to at Government House during the Austrian invasion affair last summer. Owen had simply taken him for some government official, never dreaming that he was talking to Lohan himself! He glanced up to see that the old man had recognized him.
“Owen Strong,” Lohan said gravely. “You have not come to my home as I invited you.”
“Great Lohan,” Owen said, resuming his bow. “I regret that circumstances have prevented me from such pleasurable activities.” The old man’s face broke into a brief smile.
“You are at least well spoken,” Lohan remarked. The Dragon turned to Jinhao beside him. “So Granddaughter, I have come as you asked. Now, I assume that you have this murderer in hand that I might convene the court together to give public judgment in this matter.”
“Mighty Lohan,” Jinhao said. “The matter has proved to be very difficult.”
“Difficult?” The Dragon repeated. Owen thought that saw a glint of red fire in the old man’s eyes for a moment. “Difficult in what manner?”
“Perhaps we might do better to go inside,” Owen suggested.
Chapter 19
Of course it wasn’t as simple as the three of them walking off somewhere to talk. There were the very delicate introductions of both Mike and Jimmy to be made to Lohan, as well as introductions to the owner of the restaurant they were entering. The poor woman was practically beside herself between showing her obeisance to the Dragon by prostrating herself flat on the floor and the need to bustle about readying a suitable place for them all to talk inside. Finally Lohan took pity on her and informed her that she need not perform a full obeisance herself every time she entered his presence.
Then there was the matter of what to do with the police constables and courtiers who had made up the procession. Owen was pleasantly surprised to find that his old friend in the police, Inspector Gregg, was in charge of them. They exchanged words in the courtyard while the Dragon went inside.
“So I see that you have made Chief Inspector, Gregg.” Owen remarked, gesturing towards the dress uniform the man was clearly uncomfortable wearing
“Deputy Inspector, thanks to that bit of with the Duke of Chu’s niece.” He growled, finger seeking to make looser the tight collar of his dress uniform. “It just means more paperwork and more dress circuses like this one.” He give Owen a gimlet eye. “I should have known that you had a hand in this, Milord. So what is the situation? We heard talk of a murder, which as this is my district, didn’t sit well with the higher ups when I had to confess that I knew damn all about it!”
“Yes, well there has been a murder,” Owen confessed. “I fear, however, that the culprit is not in hand.”
“That could be very bad Milord.” The policeman acknowledged. “This was put about as an afternoon’s lark among the court.” He looked as if he had bitten into a sour lemon. “Something about the Dragon dispensing the High Justice among the lower classes.” He sniffed, looking around. “Seems to me the lowest classes is more like it. I know the court was looking forward to seeing some simple thing with maybe an execution before they went back up the Hill to their perfumed pansies. If you don’t have the guilty party to hand, there’s little that I can do to help you I’m afraid.”
“Well,” Owen said, “We do have an Austrian spy in plain clothes. But I doubt that he committed the crime”
“The devil you say,” Gregg exclaimed. “That should keep your neck from the block at any rate.” Gregg shook his head. Mei came bounding up, interrupting them.
“Jinhao says that the Dragon is settled inside, and that both Mike and Jimmy are there. You should come at once she says, before things get too out of hand.”
“Right then,” Owen said to the small messenger. “Thank you Mei.” He turned back to Gregg. “Are you coming Gregg?”
“I had best see to these,” Gregg encompassed both the courtiers and his fellow police who were milling about in the street. “Gods help me if someone gets their pocket picked. I’ll be along.”
Owen went inside to the banquet room where Huang had been killed. There he found the table had been removed and the Dragon was sitting on a throne-like chair that had appeared from somewhere. Both Mike and Jimmy had paced off, facing each other before the Dragon who did not look amused at either of them. Lohan was blowing on a tea cup when Owen entered. He looked at Owen over the tea cup. Jinhao stood behind the chair in the position of trusted bodyguard, a placement not lost on the British aristocrat. She looked at him in silent warning.
“So, Lord Owen of Strong,” the Dragon said by way of greeting. “These fine—gentlemen—were just telling me about the murder of some street thug and that I am to punish the murderer. Unfortunately, according to them, there is no murderer caught or so they tell me you say to them. What do you say to me?” Owen bowed deeply at this before he replied.
“Mighty Lohan,” he said carefully. “The culprit of the crime for which you are here is here upon these premises. I believe that you will find that convening your Court would be most advantageous to you, that all may learn your wisdom.” The Dragon leaned forward in the chair, cup held delicately between his fingers.
“Indeed, Lord Owen,” the Dragon-seeming of an old man gave him a smile of approval, which held no reassurance. It reminded Owen of the grin of a shark just before feeding. “Will you tell me who you have taken for this crime? Was it the Austrian spy?”
“Mighty Lohan,” Owen replied still bowing, “given that a foreign national is involved, might one suggest that this case could be a great showcase for the modern thinking that imbues your court of justice.” The Dragon frowned at this.
“What do you mean?” Lohan asked Owen sharply. “If I have to call that stupid Austrian ambassador, it will make the whole affair only more tedious.” The Dragon sighed. “That woman is such a bore under normal circumstances.”
“Well, that is one thing that unfortunately you should consider doing,” Owen allowed. “Treaties and all that.” He pushed on. “No, what I was referring to was your fervent embrace of modern Western criminal justice procedures.” The Dragon leaned back in his chair at hearing this.
“And what exactly are these modern procedures?” he asked archly.
“Instead of having a confession in hand at the time of the court convening,” Owen explained. “The court impartially hears all the evidence and then makes a wise and just decision.” Owen was uneasy as Lohan smiled again his shark smile.
“Ah yes,” he said briskly. “Two people, called a prosecute and a defender present all the facts before me, and I then decide who is guilty. Splendid idea, it will be a spectacular hit with the court.” He waved a hand. “You shall be the prosecute, and the Austrian spy shall be the defended.”
“Ahem,” Owen said clearing his throat. “I am reasonably certain that the Austrian is not the murderer Mighty Lohan.”
“Well he is certainly guilty of being a spy in my city!” The Dragon asserted.
“That is true,” Owen allowed, “but while he may have been that, as well as furnished the murder weapon, I rather doubt that he pulled the trigger.”
“A detail only, I am sure,” Lohan replied. “The penalty is the same for both crimes, and I can only have him beheaded once. Besides, if someone else performed the murder then you shall have to bring them out be
fore the Court. I believe that is what a prosecute does.”
“Prosecutor,” Owen corrected him faintly. “The role is called the prosecutor, and I am hardly the right person for the role,” he protested.
“Nonsense,” The Dragon asserted. “I have decided it. You will do greatly, I have every confidence. You are present, and I still want to do this today.” He looked down at Owen and sighed. “I shall have to call upon the Austrian Ambassador I can see.”
“I fear so,” Owen replied steadily. He had hoped to simply delay the Dragon from convening the court to witness his judgment, thus saving face all around. Now he found himself having to find the real killer before the court instead.
“What about us Your Lordship?” Jimmy the Hand asked in Hannish. “I want to be assured of justice for Huang!”
“What about you?” Lohan sniffed. “I am not here to assure you of anything! You should feel grateful that I shall not have you hauled off to the vagrant’s gaol! No, you shall both watch the proceedings of the court. Should you fail to show proper respect, my displeasure will be great, I assure you!” At that moment, Inspector Gregg entered the room behind them along with a trickle of courtiers. Lohan, on seeing the Inspector, called out to him.
“Inspector,” the Dragon commanded. “Find me a messenger. I need to send a message to the Austrian Embassy.”
Chapter 20
Owen stood outside in the courtyard staring up at the sky. It was a beautiful day without a cloud in sight, far too beautiful a day to die on, he thought resignedly. He supposed that he could attempt to steal away, perhaps secretly pass across the border or stowaway on a British ship. Anything else would be too dangerous. If he did, however, he would have to leave Jinhao behind, which wasn’t an answer that was acceptable to him, no not in the least. And of course, any attempt to steal away by the both of them would only double their chances of being caught. At that moment, Jinhao came up behind him, deliberately making enough noise that he knew it was her without having to turn around.
“Hello, Jinhao,” He greeted her wearily.
“Do you truly know who killed the boy Huang?” she asked softly.
“I haven’t the faintest clue,” Owen confessed to her. ”Nor, it appears, shall we have time to find out, not with this Court business convening in just a few hours at most.”
“Perhaps we could escape beyond Lohan’s reach,” she ventured. “We could make our way to my sister, she would take us in.”
“And become jolly pirates, singing ‘yo ho ho and a bottle of grog’?” Owen answered this with a wry grin and a shake of his head. “No, I don’t think that would fit either of us. Besides I was just thinking on this very subject. Not only would we have to escape the watchful eyes of the constables,” he nodded at the uniformed pair with their rifles across the courtyard. One of them actually nodded back. Friendly sorts, Owen thought, far too trusting for their jobs. “Which on the face of it would not be too difficult.” He whirled to face her.
“But we would also have to plan on leaving behind Barton, not to mention the redoubtable Mrs. Chin the cook.” He shook his head violently. “No that would simply be intolerable.”
“Then what shall we do?” She asked forlornly. Owen threw up his hands.
“Stall for time,” he said desperately. “I want you to question everyone you can in both gangs, perhaps someone saw something.”
“Why can we not simply let Lohan kill the Austrian spy?” she asked. “You know that Deter would gladly kill you if he could.”
“Actually, I know no such thing,” Owen answered. “He, at least, is a professional, however inept. Even if he were so inclined, that would mean that Huang’s killer would escape justice. I will not allow such a thing.”
“Why?” Jinhao asked.
“Because it would not be,” Owen took a deep breath before continuing, orderly.” He stomped his cane hard against the flagstones of the courtyard for emphasis. Multi-colored sparks flew upwards from the contact. “I will not have some upstart non-professional thinking that they can kill someone on my watch and get away with it!”
“You mean to say that you will risk both our deaths for the sake of your sense of order?” Jinhao said incredulously.
“Well,” Owen had the good grace to look sheepish. “Yes,” he allowed. He turned away from her. “As I said, question as many of the youngsters as you can. Someone must have seen something.”
“What if it was a professional?” She asked. He turned back to her.
“What makes you say that?” Owen asked eagerly, “Something that you have only now remarked on?”
“Nothing of the sort,” Jinhao replied. “Only if it was a professional, she would be long gone by now.”
“Oh, and I thought that you might have something there,” Owen said dejectedly. “You simply cannot be correct you know. Because if you are, we are well and truly hacked.” He turned away again.
“Where are you going?” She asked to his back.
“To see a man about a horse,” Owen said without turning. “All this green tea is an abomination to my stomach.”
Unlike the upper classes, the gangs rarely bothered with commodes or chamber-pots. A southern wall of the courtyard seemed to work fine for most of them. Owen stood next to one of Jimmy the Horse’s gang lads and unlaced his breeches. The lad next to him let out a sigh.
“Now there’s a good thing,” he said. “Not like when you’re out on lookout and have to wait.” The two of them finished their business and turned to go.
“Say,” the ganger said with a sideways look, “Aren’t you that Magi of Mike’s gang?”
“I am a Sorcerer it is true,” Owen allowed. The gang member looked unimpressed.
“I heard that you are going to find the killer of Huang,” the young man said.
“That is true,” Owen said.
“That shouldn’t be too hard, not that anyone except Jimmy will miss him,” The ganger said. “I heard that it was that sauerkraut eater.”
“You heard incorrectly then,” Owen said. “It was not him.”
“How do you know that?” The ganger asked. “It was his fancy fire weapon I heard.”
“Yes it was,” Owen allowed. “However consider this please. You have just shot someone down in cold blood. You then hit yourself over the head so that when the secret passage where you are hiding is discovered you will be captured and accused of the crime. Not very likely,” Owen shook his head. “No,” he continued, “someone else had to be present.”
“Also,” Owen said, “consider that you have caught the culprit after his dastardly deed and knocked him out. Why do you not sound the alarm and get aid?” Owen shook his head. “No the only logical answer is that the killer found the Austrian in the passage way, knocked him out, and then killed Huang with the Austrian’s fire pistol, leaving him to take the blame for the murder.”
“Say that’s a pretty smart answer,” the ganger said rubbing his chin in thought. “I hadn’t looked at it like that. Seems kind of obvious when you put it that way. So who did kill old Huang?” Owen refrained from pointing out that a nineteen year old male was hardly old, but imagined that it depended on your point of view. The speaker might have been that old himself, it was difficult to tell. Instead Owen decided to press on as long as the ganger was feeling so talkative.
“That’s what I intend to find out,” Owen replied. “What were you doing that night?”
“You don’t think I had anything to do with it, do you?” The ganger asked clearly startled by the question. “I mean, I didn’t like Huang or nothing, but I would hardly kill him!”
“No, no,” Owen soothed, “Nothing of the sort. I simply am looking to find anything that you might have seen or heard that would help me find the killer. You never know, anything might be helpful. For example,” he asked casually, “Why did you not like Huang?”
“I was hardly alone in that,” the young man snorted. “Huang was always after the other guys if you know what I mean. Didn’t matter if
they liked him back or not. He’d just sneer at them and pick on somebody else, no matter what the rest of us thought. Jimmy though, wouldn’t listen when we tried to tell him about Huang, Guess he liked having a fire starter in the gang, and wouldn’t listen to nothing bad about him.” The ganger looked down at the ground as he finished.
“I see,” said Owen slowly. “Did Huang force his . . . attentions on the rest of you?”
“Nah, nothing like that,” The ganger said scornfully. “He’d have gotten a knife in the ribs some night no matter what Jimmy thought.” He leaned in towards Owen and lowered his voice conspiratorially, “He just liked to tease the rest of us, really mean like. Nobody liked how Huang was always hanging on Jimmy neither. Jimmy seemed to like it though, encouraged him even. The other guys just figured that Huang had a likin’ of Jimmy, but I knew better.”
“Very little gets by you, I perceive,” Owen remarked.
“That’s true,” he said with pride, “You asked what I was doin’ that night. I was a lookout. Like I am most nights. Everybody in the gang knows I got sharp eyes.”
“A lookout.” Owen echoed. “Then you are just the man I wish to talk with.” Owen leaned towards him on his cane, matching the ganger’s conspiratorial tone. “Did you notice anything unusual that night? Anything no matter how small might be useful.” The ganger rubbed his face again in thought.
“No,” he said slowly. “That was the night that we had all eaten something bad at the restaurant.” He patted his stomach. “All the lookouts had to take extra-long breaks if you know what I mean.”
“That must have made it difficult to keep a close eye on things,” Owen said.
“Nah, Jo directed us so that we all had over-lapping areas. He’s smart like that.” The ganger proudly pulled out a whistle he had hung around his neck. “It was Jimmy came up with the idea of using whistles to all talk to each other over distances. That’s why he’s the Boss.”
“So Jo directs all the lookouts?” Owen asked.