Murder in the Forbidden City (Qing Dynasty Mysteries Book 1)

by Amanda Roberts

  Lady Li handed the girls off to two servants. “I’ll see to them shortly,” she said. “Go ahead and get them ready for bed.” The servants nodded and led the girls away.

  “Inspector Gong,” she said formally, with a slight bend of her knees.

  “I am sorry for your loss, Lady Li,” he said with equal formality. “I have information for you on the resolution of your sister’s case. Is there somewhere we can speak, or should I come back later?”

  She sighed and looked around. “We should get this out of the way,” she said. “After we bury Suyi tomorrow, I would like to put this misery behind us as much as possible.”

  She led Inspector Gong from the courtyard and into a formal sitting room. She left the door open so that they could still be seen, but they were far enough away that it would not be easy for anyone to hear what they were saying.

  “It was…so terrible,” Lady Li said. “I’m so confused. I had already mourned her, but I feel like I am mourning again. But I do not know if it is for her or for Chu. I know Chu killed Suyi, but her life was so tragic. I can’t help but weep for her.”

  Inspector Gong nodded. “Everyone grieves differently. And people are…complicated, to say the least. I think it is possible to be angry with Chu for her crimes and feel sad for the life she lived that caused her to do something so terrible.”

  “Did you speak to Minister Song?” she asked. “Will he pay for his role in the matter?”

  “I spoke to him,” he said. “But you know there is nothing I can do. We have no evidence of his role in the plot. The words of a murderous maid and a woman I met on the street are not enough to convict a man of his station. We don’t have any evidence that he purchased the gu or knew about Chu being the daughter of the Xianfeng Emperor. I demanded that he give me the paper he found in the imperial archives, but of course he denied knowing anything.”

  “Did you at least tell the empress about your suspicions of his involvement?” Lady Li asked.

  “I did,” he said. “But she cannot demote him, not without evidence. But it will be a long time before she trusts him again, if ever.”

  “But is she safe with him at court?” she asked.

  “I cannot say,” Inspector Gong replied. “I think she is for now since he is being closely scrutinized. But who is to say he won’t try something again, if he is as hungry for power as Chu said.”

  “And the empress will recover from the poisoning?” Lady Li asked.

  “The doctors think so,” he said. “It will take time for the poison to clear out of her system, but as long as she is not ingesting any more, she should recover.”

  Lady Li sighed and slowly blinked her eyes. “That is good. I suppose everything worked out.”

  “Do I need to do anything about Eunuch Jinxi?” he asked. “Didn’t he recommend Chu for you?”

  “I don’t think so. He was recommended to me by Eunuch Bai, who cannot stop beating himself up over what happened. Eunuch Jinxi seems genuine in his innocence. He knew Lady Yun and Chu were friends, so he thought she would be useful to me. He had no idea of her involvement. I have no reason to doubt him. I don’t want anyone else punished if there is a chance they are innocent.”

  She was certainly thinking of the other eunuchs who had been executed after the empress learned of their involvement.

  “After spending only a few days in the palace I remember why I was so glad I was not married to the emperor myself,” Lady Li said. “The palace is a gilded cage. It is grand and opulent and a thing of envy, but the inside is rotten.”

  “I agree,” Inspector Gong said. “I don’t know how those women live that life every day.”

  “My daughters…” Lady Li started to say, but shook her head. “I don’t know what I am going to do.”

  Inspector Gong remembered how Prince Kung said that Lady Li’s daughters were both on the short list of possible consorts for the new emperor when he came of age. After this experience, Lady Li must have feared for their future.

  “I have to ask,” he said at the thought of Prince Kung, “did Prince Kung teach you that? How to defend yourself I mean? That was quite impressive.”

  Lady Li could not keep one side of her mouth from curling up in a smile. “My years as a lady-in-waiting were dangerous times. Yes, he taught me a few tricks.”

  He wondered what the other tricks were. He hoped he would have the chance to find out.

  “Anyway, you should go before people start to talk,” Lady Li said.

  “I…I also wanted to ask, Lady Li,” he started to say, but found himself stuttering. “About…well, about us…”

  “Us?” she asked, confused.

  “Yes,” he said. “After the night we spent together, I thought maybe we…that I could see you again…”

  “There is no us,” she said firmly. “I am a Manchu lady while you are a Han nobody. There cannot be a ‘we’. I must still consider my reputation, my future, my daughters’ future.”

  Inspector Gong stepped back as if she had slapped him. “I’m not a nobody, Lady Li,” he said. “I might not have a high and mighty title like you, but I’m well respected in this city, as is my family. I might not be a Manchu, but I am not beneath you.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Lady Li said walking past him and motioning that he should leave.

  Inspector Gong scoffed as he started to walk past her. What a cold, calculating woman. He had never felt so used.

  “There can never be an us, inspector,” she reiterated after he stepped through the door. “But if you were to call upon me again, I would not turn you away.”

  He didn’t look back because he couldn’t keep from smiling and didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing how pleased he was.

  They both knew they would see each other again.

  Lady Li and Inspector Gong will return in Murder in the British Quarter. Subscribe to my mailing list so you will be the first to find out when it is released, and keep reading for a special sneak peek!

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  Preview: Murder in the British Quarter

  Chapter One

  The riot had started in the dark hours of the morning, when the Chinese employees of the Foreign Legation had begun venturing into the Chinese portions of Peking to run their morning errands. They took the news of the murder with them, spreading truth mixed with hearsay and rumor and stirring up dissent. By the time Prince Kung and Inspector Gong arrived, the gates had been closed and hundreds of angry people had gathered outside the legation.

  “Can you believe this?” Prince Kung asked. “All over some peasant girl. If she’d been killed anywhere else in China, no one would have given a shit about her.”

  Inspector Gong grunted his agreement as he peeked out the windows of the sedan chair. He rarely ever traveled in such a stately manner, but he had first been summed to Prince Kung’s mansion, and together they traveled to the legation. When it came to troubles between the foreigners and Chinese, Prince Kung was the man people turned to. Prince Kung had filled Inspector Gong in on what little he knew about the situation on the way there.

  A serving girl had been murdered in the home of a wealthy British merchant overnight. They had sent for the British police, but of course the other Chinese servants knew what was happening. Word about the murder spread, and people were, rightly, concerned that the murder would just be covered up. If she had been killed by a foreigner, the killer would never see justice. If people hadn’t rioted, the situation may have completely gone unnoticed by the Chinese authorities, not that they could do much about it.

  The chair bearers stopped outside the crowd of people. Even though the front gate was still many meters away, they could get no closer. Prince Kung and Inspector Gong climbed out of the chair. The prince motioned for his guards to clear the people out of his way. Fortunately Prince Kung was popular with the people, so few put up a fight as the prince and the inspector made their way through the crowd. In front of the gate, there was
an opening in the sea of people. On the ground, two elderly people were knocking their foreheads to the ground and wailing, a traditional way of publicly mourning when someone had been wronged.

  “You are the girl’s parents,” Inspector Gong said loudly over the din of people.

  The man stopped and looked up at him while the woman continued her lament. “We are,” he said. “Our girl, our beautiful girl, was ripped from us this night. Where are lowly ones such as ourselves to find comfort, much less justice? These white devils kill us and we are supposed to do nothing?”

  At that, the crowd erupted again and pushed in toward the prince and the inspector. The prince’s guards held the people back, but worry showed on his face.

  “I’ll need to question her parents further,” the inspector said softly in the prince’s ear.

  The prince nodded. “But not here, not now. That man knows what he is doing. He’s whipping up the crowd.”

  Inspector Gong nodded. The father wasn’t just mourning, he was encouraging the rioters. To what end, the inspector wasn’t sure yet. He would have to parse that out later.

  The prince led the inspector to the gate, which was lined with a dozen very nervous British guards. The head guard held his hand up as they approached.

  The guard said something in English that Inspector Gong didn’t understand, but his meaning was clear. He wasn’t going to let them in.

  The prince grew indignant and yelled, in English, at the guard, who looked sufficiently shaken when the prince was done. The guard quickly saluted and then bowed, clearly confused about how to react the prince, especially in such a situation. He stammered something else and then nearly ran to the guard room on one side of the gate and opened a small window in the back to talk to someone in the other side.

  He returned quickly and said something, accompanied with a bow. He indicated that the prince should follow him. The guard led them to a small door inside the large gate and ushered the prince, inspector gong, and the prince’s guards through.

  They were welcomed by several white men in various dress, some in uniforms, some simply in suits. Inspector Gong really knew nothing about foreigners or their ways, so he had no way of knowing who the men were, so he simply followed the prince’s lead. He shook hands and nodded his head, but he didn’t speak. Even though he could say hello, thank you, and other small words, he had no confidence in his English ability and knew he would speak heavily accented. He didn’t want to give any appearance of weakness in front of people who he might have to, somehow, question about the girl’s murder.

  Prince Kung, on the other hand, was fluent in English. As he spoke to the men, he nodded his head gravely and then forcefully explained the situation. They argued back and forth for a moment, then the foreigners turned away.

  The prince explained more of the situation to Inspector Gong as they walked. “These men are the chief of police for the British citizens and the British ambassador. They want to handle the situation internally, of course, but I told them that the situation has escalated beyond that now. If they want to avoid an international incident, we have to be allowed to conduct our own investigation or at least be part of their investigation. The Chinese need to be reassured that justice will be done.”

  Inspector Gong nodded his head.

  As they walked, Inspector Gong took in the sites. He had never been into the Foreign Legation before. Like the Forbidden City, whose southern wall loomed just to the north of the legation, the Foreign Legation was a world apart. Only foreigners were allowed to live here, except for the Chinese servants they often employed, and the different sections of the legation took on the aspects of the county they represented. The finest dress shops could be found in the French Quarter, the best food could be found in the German Quarter, and the most opulent houses could be found in the British Quarter.

  The inspector was nearly awed by the large houses that loomed two and three stories tall like white teeth ready to gnash anyone unwelcome who walked by. The houses had green lawns and wrought iron fences. White faces peeked out of the windows on the upper floors as they walked past. The inspector chuckled to himself. Nosey neighbors were universal, it seemed.

  They finally arrived at what appeared to be the largest and most well-appointed house on the street. A crowd had gathered outside, both of uniformed officers and average looky-loos, both foreign and Chinese.

  Inspector Gong examined the house. A window on the third floor was shattered and the glass had fallen on the walkway leading up to the front door and was being trampled by people standing around unhelpfully. He looked across the street and saw that there were several houses of the same height.

  The prince and the inspector were led inside the house. The floors and walls were a dark mahogany wood and a large staircase greeted them. The inspector looked up and saw a crystal chandelier. There were gilded mirrors and picture frames on every wall. Elaborate carpets covered the floors. Inspector Gong had been in some fancy homes in his life, even the Forbidden City, but Chinese decor was damn near austere compared to this. It was downright garish.

  They were taken to the first room on the left, which had similar decorations but also had plush green couches and chairs for sitting. A tall portly man with thick, fair facial hair was standing there, drinking something out of a small crystal goblet. A woman with similarly round features and the largest, most prominent bosom Inspector Gong had ever seen was sitting on the couch, a handkerchief to her face.

  “This is the owner of the house, and the employer of the young woman,” the prince explained as he shook hand with the man. “His name is Mr. John Gibson.”

  Inspector Gong nodded and shook the man’s hand, but remained silent.

  The prince and Mr. Gibson talked back and forth for a few minutes, of which the inspector understood nothing. He looked at the woman for a moment. At first he thought she had been crying over the girl, but then he realized she wasn’t crying at all. She was holding the handkerchief to her face, but her eyes were not red or puffy and her cheeks were dry. She did have a bit of a far off look to her, as if she was lost in thought, but she seemed more worried, possibly angry. He then noticed her foot was tapping anxiously. Of course, it was natural to be anxious if someone was murdered in your home, but the inspector had a feeling there was some other cause for her unease. He hoped he would have a chance to chat with her at some point, but he doubted it.

  “No! Certainly not,” Mr. Gibson said heatedly, some of the few words the inspector understood.

  The prince, though, did not give up and continued to press his case. Finally, Mr. Gibson stomped toward the stairway and led them upstairs.

  “He doesn’t want us investigating,” the prince explained.

  “Naturally,” Inspector Gong replied.

  “I’m doing my best here. He is allowing us to see the body and the crime scene, but not for long.”

  Inspector Gong nodded and followed Mr. Gibson and the prince upstairs.

  At the top of the stairs was a long hallway with several doors. There was also another stairway up to a third floor. They went down the hallway to a room on the end. Mr. Gibson took a deep breath and then opened the door. He entered the room, followed by Prince Kung and Inspector Gong. The prince’s guard waited outside the room.

  The scene was shocking. The woman, quite young, was lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood with an arrow sticking out of her chest. Her eyes were wide and her mouth open in a silent scream. Inspector Gong shook his head. He couldn’t believe no one had bothered to close her eyes.

  The girl was lying in front of a large window, but the window was shut and covered with a gauze curtain. The arrow had shattered the window, ripped through the curtain, and penetrated the girl nearly in the heart. It had been an incredible shot.

  Inspector Gong pulled back the curtain a bit and looked outside. Across the street were the houses he had noted outside. There were two houses, close together, where the killer could have stood. He had most likely been on the t
hird floor or the roof of whichever house he used. He would need to speak to whoever owned those houses as well. Perhaps they housed the killer or would know who might have access to their house.

  Prince Gong and Mr. Gibson were talking, but Mr. Gibson was becoming increasingly agitated. The inspector knew it was only a matter of time before they were kicked out. Even though Mr. Gibson most likely had frequent interactions with Chinese, he probably rarely had to answer to one.

  The inspector kneeled down on his haunches to get a better look at the body. The arrow was incredible. It was ornately carved and painted with gold and green. The fletching was made of bright green mallard feathers. He had to be able to find out where such a unique arrow came from. To use such a specific weapon had to be a message. He needed to get a better look at it, perhaps the arrowhead held further clues…

  “Out!” Mr. Gibson finally yelled. Another word that Inspector Gong easily understood.

  The prince tried to placate him, but he was beyond placating now. If he dared to give orders to a prince, he obviously was past all sense of caring. The inspector, the prince, and the prince’s men all traipsed downstairs and out the front door. They headed back to the main gate.

  “What did you learn?” the prince asked through clenched teeth.

  “Not enough,” Inspector Gong replied. “We need to get the body to Dr. Xue, I need to examine the arrow, and I need to interview everyone in the house, and hopefully the neighbors.”

  The prince scoffed. “None of which is likely to happen. These foreigners, they won’t help us, even if it is in their best interest.”

  “What do you mean?” the inspector asked.

  “They believe this should be handled internally since it happened in the legation. The Chinese want it handled by us, since a Chinese girl was the victim. It will go badly no matter what we do. If she was killed by a foreigner, we can’t prosecute them. They would be prosecuted by the courts of their own country, which means they won’t be prosecuted at all. If she was killed by a Chinese person, the people will think the killer was framed to protect the foreigners. Either way, this could get ugly. Tensions are high, and something like this could be a flash in the pan to start an all-out war with the foreigners or rebel against the empress for not protecting the people against the ‘White Devils’.”