Strong Mystery: Murder, Mystery and Magic Books 1-3 (Steampunk Magica)

by Raven Bond

  “Thank you my Lord Hu-San,” Owen said dryly. The constable Bailey quickly moved to stand in front of Jimmy.

  “Do you swear by the Gods that you hold dear, that all that you shall speak here shall only be the truth, knowing that you are bound by the Question to answer so?” He asked the ganger. Jimmy visibly swallowed at this. ‘Bound by the Question,’ meant that any Court official that didn’t like his answers could have him tortured until he gave answers that they did like.

  “Yeah,” he replied stoutly, glaring at Owen over Bailey’s shoulder. “I got nothing to hide.” Bailey moved smoothly aside leaving the ganger facing Owen.

  Owen stepped towards Jimmy with a smile, his cane tapping the ground as he walked.

  “I am sure that you do not have anything to hide, Master Jimmy,” Owen said. “I simply wish to ask you some questions about the victim and the night of his death in particular. Is that agreeable to you?” he finished. Jimmy the Horse visibly relaxed, shaking loose his shoulders and arms at hearing this.

  “Sure,” he said. A rumbling growl came from the direction of the Dragon. Jimmy risked a glance in that direction before turning back. “I mean, ah, yes Lord Owen.”

  “Good,” Owen said. “Did you see Huang the night he was killed?”

  “Sure,” Jimmy said. “You saw him that night too.”

  “Yes I did,” Owen allowed. “Did you see him after I had left?”

  “Yeah,” the ganger said with crossed arms. “I talked to him after you left with Mike and his girls. I wanted to know who had started with all the fire making. I was sure it was that doxy of Mike’s.”

  “And was Huang able to tell you who had started with all the fire-making?” Owen asked. “Was it Mary?” The ganger hung his head, and looked at the floor.

  “No,” he said in a small voice. “Huang admitted it was him that started it.”

  “I see,” said Owen mildly. “So at an important meeting of yours, Huang disrupted it by using his fire talent. Perhaps he was seeking to take control away from you? That must have made you very angry.”

  “Well sure,” Jimmy said. “I was figuring Huang would try something like that. But that don’t mean I killed him!”

  “No of course not. Did that conversation happen here in this room?” Owen smiled at him.

  “Yes,” Jimmy said in puzzlement at the change of questioning. “Afterwards I went up to my room here in the restaurant.”

  “Did anyone see you go upstairs?” Owen asked.

  “Sure,” Jimmy said. “A bunch of the guys were still out in the hallway and saw me go up. I went to sleep, and was woken up by Jo, who told me that Huang had been killed.”

  “Was this the same Jo who headed the lookout guards that night?” Owen asked.

  “Well, yeah,” Jimmy said scornfully. “Jo has been with me almost as long as Huang had been. Few others can wake me up.” Owen nodded at this.

  “I have no more questions for this person,” Owen suddenly announced. Hu-San glided forward.

  “Mighty Lohan,” He said. “I have a few questions if I might be permitted.” The Dragon nodded testily.

  “Yes,” Lohan allowed, “But make them brief.” Hu-San bowed and then turned towards Jimmy.

  “Jimmy the Horse is such an interesting name,” Hu-San began silkily. “Surely that is not the name that your mother gave you.”

  “Well no,” Jimmy said, “That one was boring.”

  “‘Jimmy’ is short for the western name ‘James’ is it not?” Hu-San asked. “And what does Horse mean?” Jimmy laughed, pulling up his sleeve and shoving up his arm rampant like a penis. The Court twittered.

  “What do you think it means?” The boy answered with a leer.

  “Precisely,” Hu-San responded unruffled. “Yet, you bear with pride a false name. Why is that? Is it not to conceal your criminal activities?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jimmy replied easily.

  “Do you not?” Hu-San said. “I remind you that you are under the question.” He paused significantly before continuing. “Your mother must be very ashamed of you,” he continued.

  “She is right here,” Jimmy retorted. “Why don’t you ask her?” He pointed towards where Zhang the old woman who owned the restaurant stood.

  “Mighty Lohan,” Owen interjected. “I fail to see what Hu-San is attempting with this questioning.” The Dragon looked at Hu-San.

  “I must agree,” the Dragon grumbled. “What are you seeking to prove Lord Hu-San?”

  “Simply that this person,” Hu-San sniffed, “Is nothing more than a common born criminal, whose word is not to be trusted.”

  “I had no more questions for this witness,” Owen pointed out.

  “Then let us move this along,” Lohan ordered. “Does that meet with your approval Lord Hu-San?” The Dragon asked dangerously. Hu-San bowed deeply, knowing when to bend.

  “As you wish Mighty Lohan,” the court official said unctuously.

  “Do you have any other people that you wish to call as witness on in this matter, Lord Owen?” Lohan asked him.

  “Yes, Mighty Lohan,” Owen said. “I wish to call Madame Zhang.”

  After Bailey’s calling and swearing in, the old restaurant owner stood trembling between Owen and Hu-San while the Dragon looked down at her. She twisted the long hem of her black robe nervously in her hands.

  “Now, Madame Zhang,” Owen began easily. “Is it not true that Jimmy the Horse is your son?”

  “Yes,” she said proudly. “He truly is a fine man, no matter what some may say,” she said with a pointed glance at Hu-San. “He takes care of his friends and seeks to help them.”

  “I am sure of that,” Owen said. “It must have been hard raising him while taking care of this huge restaurant,”

  “Oh, it was not that hard,” Zhang said with a smile. “When I inherited this place from my uncle. Jimmy, as he likes to be called, has always helped me out where he can.”

  “Ah, so it was your uncle’s place before it was yours?” Owen asked.

  “Oh yes,” Zhang said, “We have barely kept it going since he passed on, but we try.”

  “And how long have you know our Austrian friend Deter over there?” Owen asked. Zhang’s voice hesitated.

  “I am not sure what you mean,” she quivered.

  “All this,” Owen said with a wave of his hand, “used to be the headquarters for a dissident group. That is the reason for all these passageways is it not?”

  “I do not know about that,” Zhang said faintly.

  “Was that the time that Deter showed up and offered to help you save your son, when you took possession of this building?” Owen asked gently. Zhang looked up at Lohan, then back to Owen with her lips tight. Owen gave her a sympathetic look. “It really will not do to pretend any longer Madame.”

  “Yes,” she said finally.

  “I am sure that you did not know who Deter worked for when he approached you,” Owen said sympathetically. “What did he tell you Madame?”

  “That some of my son’s associates were not wholesome fellows,” Madame Zhang spat out. “He offered to remove my son from the life that he had.”

  “How did he propose that he would do that?” Owen asked. Madame Zhang shrugged violently.

  “He never said,” she snapped angrily. “Only that if I showed him where the tunnels where and introduced him to some of the other boys, that my little Wong would be saved.” She glared at Deter. “But that never seemed to come true.”

  “I see,” said Owen. “And was Huang, the murdered youth, one of the ones that you introduced Deter to?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “Although, again, nothing ever seemed to happen until the other night! When Deter roasted that foul perversion alive!” The Court burst into a babble of noise at this revelation.

  “I object!” screamed Hu-San. The Austrian Ambassador seemed to leap from the wall to his side, adding her voice of objection over the roar of the courtiers. Bailey struggled in vai
n to restore order. A mighty voice exploded from the throne where Lohan was seated.

  “ENOUGH! BE SILENT!”

  In the strained silence that followed, Owen could see people attempt to work their mouths, only to clutch their throats in growing dismay. Somehow Lohan had actually silenced the entire room. A feat of sorcery that Owen had never even heard of before, let alone seen. It was very impressive. Most of the room fell to their knees before the Dragon Lord of Hong Kong, silently abasing themselves. Owen remained standing. Lohan continued in a deep rumbling growl that penetrated ones bones.

  “Your voices will return momentarily, more is the pity,” the Dragon said remorselessly. “There shall be a short intermission to allow everyone to gather their decorum about them.” The Dragon stirred on the throne. “And I will have decorum my Ladies and Lords! This is MY Court! Now go!”

  Everyone slowly cleared the room, the crowd spilling out into the inner courtyard. Jinhao appeared at Owen’s side.

  “So much for our thinking that Deter did not kill Huang,” she remarked.

  “Do you really think so?” Owen asked her with a raised eyebrow.

  “How else would you interpret her statement?” Jinhao asked in astonishment.

  “Watch and see,” Owen replied merrily. “At least now I know who killed Huang. I even have a plan to reveal him!”

  “What plan?” Jinhao asked looking at him closely.

  Before Owen could answer a westerner wearing the black and maroon colors of the British crown came up to them. His black cutaway coat was as neatly tailored as if he had just come from London itself. A small round hat perched on his head.

  “Lord Owen,” he said with a nod. He bowed perfunctorily towards Jinhao. Straightening up, his hands moved in an intricate pattern. Owen sighed at the recognition signal.

  “I have no time for Order monkey business,” Owen said to the man curtly.

  “My Lord!” The newcomer replied in shocked rebuke, darting a glance at Jinhao. He was further disconcerted when Jinhao bared her teeth at him in distaste.

  “Oh it is alright,” Owen assured him. “Jinhao is very familiar with the Obsidian Order. What does our dear Uncle Stephen want now?” The man gobbled for several moments as he took this in. The Obsidian Order was the powerful and secret intelligence order of the British Empire, and as such, preferred to work in the darkness of obscurity. Sir Stephen Partridge was one of the senior adepts of the Order.

  Owen had been a secret agent of the Order before he left it in disillusionment. Uncle Stephen was Owens’ nickname for Sir Stephen Partridge, the head of the Orders overseas operations, and Owen’s former mentor. Owen’s use of his irreverent nickname clearly shocked the young dandy. The un-named man gathered his dignity about him and stood straight. His eyes darted left and right before he spoke.

  “This word comes from Sir Stephen himself,” the man said in a low voice. “You must find the Austrian innocent of the murder of the Chinese boy. Such a thing could only exacerbate international tensions.”

  “Regardless if he’s innocent or not eh?” Owen said dryly. “Good thing that I had already figured out that he was innocent then. Anything else?”

  “Yes,” the man said furtively, “Your own safety is directly in danger from assassins. Sir Stephen does not know who or when only that you should take heed. He is attempting to discover more.”

  “That warning comes about a week too late,” Owen replied. “Tell Partridge that a westerner Sorcerer named Mr. Victor is hunting me. He has the air of a mercenary and a slight Belgian accent to his vowels. See if that helps him in his inquiries.” Owen exclaimed as the man took out a note pad and stylus. “Do not write that down! Memorize it! Victor. Mercenary Sorcerer. Belgian! By the Dark Woods, what degree are you?” The man swallowed hard, putting away his writing implements.

  “I am a first degree, Worshipful Lord,” he stammered. “This is my first assignment.”

  “I thought as much.” Owen said with a sigh. “And do not call me that. I am not a Worshipful anything. “Can you remember what I have told you?” The man nodded his head.

  “I think so,” he replied uncertainly.

  “See that you do,” Owen said. He refrained from rolling his eyes at the man’s response. “Now go,” he ordered. “Tell Uncle Stephen that I have the matter of the Austrian well in hand. And do not forget,” he admonished holding up his hand. A single finger went up at each word. “Victor. Sorcerer. Mercenary. Belgian.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The messenger nodded his head jerkily, and hurried off. Owen and Jinhao watched him weave his way clumsily through the courtiers.

  “Well that is one way to be remembered,” Owen remarked drolly, watching as the man ran head long into a fat Court courtier. After a moments hurried bowing, the young Westerner scampered off.

  “Not like when we were staring out at all, oh grey beard,” Jinhao said with a brief laugh.

  “We were never that young,” Owen replied sourly. He turned towards her. “Now listen, here is what I want you to do.” He outlined his plan. Jinhao grinned when he finished.

  “Lohan, will be impressed, and possibly very upset with you,” she remarked.

  “Let him,” Owen replied with a shrug. “So long as he doesn’t set me on fire or eat me, I think I shall endure.”

  “Dragons do not really eat people,” Jinhao said carefully.

  “And someday you will have to tell me how you know that, and how you are acquainted with Lohan for that matter.” Owen said with a quizzical tilt to his head.

  “No, I do not have to,” Jinhao replied, grinning at him. They both turned as Bailey’s voice called to all to return to the Court. Owen straightened up.

  “That is our cue,” he said. “Off you go then.” Jinhao nodded.

  “I shall await your signal.” She replied.

  Chapter 23

  Owen took his place before the Dragon and waited for the other Courtiers to settle. Baileys’ calls for order were finally obeyed and the room grew silent. Hu-San stepped slightly forward.

  “I have a few questions for the witness, Mighty Lohan,” Lohan looked to Owen.

  “Do you have any objection, Lord Owen?” the Dragon asked.

  “None, Mighty Lohan.” Owen said. Hu-San looked at Madame Zhang craftily.

  “Madame,” he asked. “Did you see my defendant shoot the boy Deter?” Zhang shot upright at this question, clearly reluctant to answer it.

  “I remind you that you are under the shadow of the question,” Hu-San said mildly at her reluctance. Finally she spoke.

  “No I did not see him burn the boy down,” she admitted. “But I know that he had promised to see my Wang, my Jimmy that is, safe.”

  “And Huang was not safe for your son to be around? By all accounts they were the best of friends.” Hu-San remarked incredulously. Madame Zhang curled her lip at him.

  “No, he was not,” she paused, looking down as if uncertain how to proceed. “I do not know the polite words for it,” she went on finally, rising her head. “Huang was a lover of men” she finished using the course term for a homosexual male. Hu-San expressed shock, which Owen was certain must be faked.

  “Truly,” he breathed. “I shall spare you having to recount how you know such a thing to be true,” he said sympathetically. “Still,” he continued, “many a young man has a special male friend. Such a relationship is neither against the law or shameful in the eyes of the Sage, Confucius.”

  “It is if the special friend is both a witch and a white-face!” The old woman spat out.

  “Which is why you killed Huang is it not, Madame Zhang?” Hu-San asked triumphantly. “You knew about Deter, you must have known about his witch-weapon, and so you killed Huang with it, and then blamed Deter for your foul murder, knowing that he would accept the blame rather than betray you as a traitor-agent of a foreign power!”

  He finished with a rhetorical flourish, smiling in victory at Owen as the room exploded yet again in exclamations. Owen saw that Jimmy t
he Horse was shouting his objections. He was held back by the gang member Jo and another ganger. Madame Zhang stood mute, shaking her head in negation.

  Bailey called the room to order yet again. Everyone waited, scarcely breathing, to hear what the Dragon would say to these revelations. Lohan cast his gaze on Owen.

  “Lord Owen,” the Dragon rumbled. “What have you to say to this?”

  “Mighty Lohan,” Owen bowed to him. “While I applaud Lord Hu-San for his imagination, I must point out that he is completely wrong. With your permission I wish to give a small demonstration that will reveal the true killer of the boy Huang.” Lohan looked to Hu-San.

  “My Lord have you any objection to this?” he asked. Hu-San bowed graciously towards Owen.

  “‘Better a diamond with a flaw, than a pebble without meaning,’ so the Sage tells us on matters of the law,” Hu-San quoted smoothly. “I have no objections.”

  “Very well Lord Owen,” Lohan said, “You may proceed.”

  “Thank you Mighty Lohan,” Owen said with bow. He began to pace around the cleared space in the center of the room, swinging his cane as he talked.

  “Let us go back to that night, the night of the murder. The fire caller Huang sends a message to the other fire caller in Mike’s gang, Mary. Why?” Owen asked rhetorically. “This question becomes all important. Why send for your rival in a rival gang in the middle of the night? The explanation becomes very clear when you answer this question. You send for them because you wish to subvert them to your cause. How can you do that?” Owen paused to look at Deter.

  “You can do that,” he said, “Because an agent of a mighty political power promises you the moon and stars. He promises you that you can rule not only the gang you belong to, but also the gang of your rivals if you convince the other fire caller to join with you. So that you never become aware that your every move is being directed by a foreign power.”

  “What was the plan Deter?” Owen asked the Austrian agent, “To lure the unwanted urchins into spying for you? Perhaps to use the power of a fire caller to perform an assassination or two?”