Inspector Gong released Wangshu and took the sword from the Lord of Hell, handing it to the prince. “She says that the sword was switched. She thought she was using just a prop sword, a collapsible one, but she was actually holding this one. She says the death was an accident.”
The prince tested the blade. “And do you believe her?” he asked the inspector.
“I don’t know yet,” the inspector said. “And I’m not sure her intentions matter. Either way, the man ended up dead at her hand.”
Wangshu grunted in frustration. “But I didn’t do it!” she said, stomping her foot. “Someone switched the sword! That person should be arrested, not me!”
“Who do you think switched the sword?” the inspector asked.
“I…I don’t know,” she said, holding up her hands, which were covered with her long sleeves, helplessly.
“Why would someone switch them?” the inspector pressed. “Who would want Fanhua dead?”
“You’re the inspector,” Wangshu spat. “You should be finding out instead of arresting me.”
The inspector stepped forward, gripping her arm roughly. Lady Li placed her hand on his arm to still his anger.
“That’s enough, both of you,” she said, using a tone typically reserved for her children. She then turned her attention to Inspector Gong. “There must be something you can do to help her.”
“Help a murderer?” he asked. “You saw her kill the man just as I did.”
“But these are extreme circumstances,” Lady Li said. “If you only arrest her, you could be letting the real killer, a very dangerous and brazen one, go free.”
“I said I would look into the switching of the blade,” Inspector Gong said. “But I still need to arrest Wangshu.”
“But if you arrest her, the Ministry of Justice might put her death in a matter of days!” Lady Li finally said bluntly. She didn’t want to scare Wangshu further, or give her cause to run, but Inspector Gong was ignoring the fact that once he took her in, what happened next was beyond his control.
“What?” Wangshu yelled, her face going pale even under her smeared makeup. “But…but…I—”
“I know,” Inspector Gong said, interrupting her and rolling his eyes. “You didn’t do it.”
“Well, I didn’t,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Enough,” the prince said stepping forward. Everyone silenced. “This is a serious matter. But there is a lot more going on here. While Wangshu should be held accountable for her crime in some way—”
Wangshu gasped but quickly shut her mouth when the prince looked at her.
“There is most likely a far more sinister, and possibly more dangerous, killer on the loose,” the prince continued. “For now, Wangshu will not be arrested, but one of my guards will watch her to make sure she doesn’t escape. In the meantime, Inspector Gong will look for whoever switched the blade and find out what is really going on here.”
“Yes, your highness,” Inspector Gong said as he dropped Wangshu’s arm, which she then rubbed dramatically.
“All of you,” the prince said looking at the various actors. “Are to cooperate with the inspector’s investigation. Do you understand?”
“Yes, your highness,” they all said with a bow.
The prince then turned away and ordered someone to bring a sheet to cover Fanhua’s body. The inspector went over to talk to him.
“That inspector has it out for me,” Wangshu whispered to Lady Li. “He won’t be satisfied until he sees my head roll.”
“No,” Lady Li said, trying to comfort her. “I have known him for a long time, and I have only ever seen him try to get to the truth of the matter.”
“But I’m telling the truth!” Wangshu said. “Why would he want me arrested when it was an accident?”
Lady Li sighed. “I am sure he feels that he is in a difficult position,” she said. “After all, we did see the actual crime take place. I cannot think of another time when the person who committed a murder was not an actual murderer.”
“So, I’m the first woman to perform opera in public,” Wangshu said, holding her head high. “And I’m the first innocent murderer.”
Lady Li had been so focused on saving Wangshu, she hadn’t given much thought to the actual crime yet, but Wangshu’s words resonated with her.
“Do you think that your performance might have something to do with the murder?” she asked.
“Of course, it does,” Wangshu said. “You should see the stacks of angry letters in my dressing room.”
“Wait here,” Lady Li said and then walked over to the prince and Inspector Gong.
“…she’s going to be furious,” the prince was saying as she approached.
“Who is?” she interrupted.
“The empress,” the prince said in annoyance. “Surely you know how important this was to her.”
Lady Li shook her head. “I know she loves opera and was very proud of Wangshu, but she didn’t speak to me about this.”
“This was supposed to be her first big act to improve social attitudes toward women and people of lower classes,” he explained. “You must understand how radical this whole experiment was.”
“I do,” Lady Li said. “In fact, I think that might have something to do with why Fanhua was killed. Wangshu said she has received many threatening letters. Whoever did this was probably furious about a woman taking the stage.”
“I’ll look into it,” Inspector Gong said. “But I’m shocked that neither of you will let me arrest her. She’s still a murderer.”
“How can you be so rigid?” Lady Li asked, exasperated. “If you were riding a horse and…and…” She looked around for inspiration, her eyes falling on the bright red beard one of the actors was still wearing. “And the King of Hell jumped out from behind a tree, intentionally spooking the horse, and the wild horse trampled a person to death, who would be responsible? You for riding it or the King of Hell for causing the horse to run? Would it be fair for you to be put to death when the accident was not your fault?”
Inspector Gong pressed his lips and breathed out his nose, unwilling to admit that Lady Li had made a good point.
“If we wait to arrest her until we know the whole story,” the prince said, “I might be able to persuade the ministry to act leniently with Wangshu. But if we arrest her now, the only evidence they will have is that she killed the man. I won’t be able to protect her.”
“Exactly,” Lady Li said. She turned to the inspector and gently touched his arm, giving him a small smile for good measure. “I appreciate your dedication to justice. But arresting her now will only result in the death of another innocent person. It would be better to wait until you have the full story before presenting the case to the Ministry of Justice.”
Inspector Gong threw up his arms. “Fine, you both win,” he said, and Lady Li did her best to suppress her face from glowing in victory.
Some of the prince’s guards returned with a sheet and laid it over the dead body.
“The audience was shockingly oblivious to what they witnessed tonight,” the prince mused. “Perhaps keeping the death quiet for a while will help with tracking down the killer.”
Inspector Gong nodded. “It won’t stay a secret for long,” he said. “These things never do.”
“Then work quickly, inspector,” the prince said, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “I’m going home. Keep me updated.”
“Yes, your highness,” the inspector grumbled.
“Is there any way I can assist you?” Lady Li asked the inspector sweetly.
“No,” he said. “You should go home as well. I will be here all night interviewing the rest of the actors and the backstage crew.”
“If you do need anything,” she said, reaching out and squeezing his hand, “do let me know.”
“Anything?” he asked quietly.
“Almost anything,” she whispered back.
6
Inspector Gong watched as Lady Li walked away, swaying
on her pot-bottom shoes. He didn’t recall Swan having such desirable curves, but he had never really looked at her that closely before. He shook his head to clear his thoughts of both women so he could focus on finding out who would want an opera performer dead.
He walked over and pulled back the sheet from Fanhua’s body to get a closer look. It was hard to see his face clearly through all the makeup, but he seemed to be fairly young. The costume was bulky, but he thought the man had a rather lithe build from what he remembered of the show. He motioned to one of the guards who had been ordered to stay behind to help him turn the body over. Fanhua’s eyes were shut, but his jaw was clenched tightly. He’d been in considerable pain when he died, which was to be expected for being run through with a sword. Inspector Gong had, of course, never been mortally wounded in battle himself, but he had his share of scars from his years in the military and had seen firsthand the damage a blade could do to the human body.
He examined the wound as best as he could without actually removing the clothes. The costume was designed to look like military armor, but it was little more than several layers of fabric. Still, it would take some effort to make sure the sword went through the clothes and then deep enough into the body to kill the man. He found it hard to believe that Wangshu had no idea that something was wrong before it was too late.
He covered the body back up and then explained to one of the guards how to deliver the body to Dr. Xue, the only doctor Inspector Gong trusted with bodies in his cases. He didn’t think Dr. Xue would be able to tell him anything he didn’t already know, but the man often surprised him.
He looked up and noticed that Wangshu—and her guard—was gone. His heart sped up for a moment. He wouldn’t blame her for running. Even though the prince had put a guard on her, it wouldn’t be impossible for her to slip away. He had threatened to arrest her more than once. Her life was on the line. She would certainly run if she had the chance.
Several men and women who were not actors but worked with the troop and for the theater were clearing the stage and cleaning up.
“Where did Wangshu go?” the inspector asked no one in particular.
“She is in her dressing room,” one of the women replied, pointing down a hallway.
Inspector Gong nodded his appreciation and went that way. He wasn’t sure which room would be hers, but about halfway down he saw the prince’s guard standing by an open door. The inspector nodded to him as he entered the room without knocking.
Wangshu had removed most of her costume and her large headdress. She was sitting in front of a mirror at a dressing table removing more of her makeup with some moist towels. It was late, so the room was dim except for two candles on the dressing table and a few more scattered around the room. The room was small and crowded with costumes, props, and stacks of trunks with items spilling out of them. An uneaten bowl of noodles that had long gone cold sat on one end of a small, uncomfortable-looking couch.
Wangshu looked up at the inspector’s reflection in her mirror but didn’t respond as she went back to cleaning her face.
“This room is rather a disaster,” he said as he ran his finger over the silk of one of the gowns hanging by the door.
“I haven’t had time to unpack properly,” Wangshu said. “I only arrived a few days ago and have no idea how long I’m staying.”
“Why was that?” the inspector asked as he casually watched Wangshu for any clues in her demeanor.
“Fanhua was the troop’s dan before I came along,” Wangshu said. “And he was quite popular. I’m sure the troupe would like to see me gone as soon as possible so their lives can get back to normal. I wouldn’t mind getting out of this hellhole myself.”
Inspector Gong nodded. Fanhua had traditionally played the role of the young woman. That would explain why he didn’t seem to have the build of a typical wusheng, a male character of military power.
“And how did Fanhua feel about being replaced?” he asked.
Wangshu froze, except for her eyes, which raised and stared at the inspector pointedly. Finally, she sighed, put her washcloth down, and turned in her chair to face him. “Anything I say is going to make me look more guilty in your eyes.”
The inspector looked around the room and spotted a stool under a pile of clothes. He pushed the clothes off and moved the stool closer to Wangshu so he could sit near her.
“Then you might as well tell me everything,” he said. “It would be better for me to hear of any troubles between you and Fanhua from you than someone else.”
Wangshu pressed her lips and looked away for a moment. She knew he was right; he only had to wait for her to come to terms with that face.
“Fanhua hated playing the wusheng,” she said. “You saw how poorly he performed tonight. He wasn’t mean to be a sheng, of any rank. He was born to play the dan.”
“So how did you come to join this troop?” the inspector asked. “Aren’t most troops families?”
“The Dashu Opera Troupe is the most popular in all of Peking,” Wangshu said. “When the empress decided to make an example of me, she had to put me in the group that would have the largest audience. She couldn’t have me perform with any back-alley group.”
“So the empress ordered the troupe to take you on as a member,” the inspector said. “How did the rest of the troupe feel about it?”
“You’d have to ask them,” Wangshu said. “But the empress paid them handsomely for the honor, so I don’t think the rest of them minded much.”
“Who is the head of the troupe?” the inspector asked.
“Changpu,” Wangshu said. “He played the Lord of Hell. His dressing room is at the end of the hall.”
The inspector nodded, taking a mental note. “I’ll speak to him later. So what was supposed to happen now? If Fanhua hadn’t died, would you be going back to the Forbidden City now that you’ve opened the door for other women?”
“That is what the empress told me,” Wangshu said. “Well, she wanted me to perform here for a few weeks. Long enough for people to grow comfortable with the idea of a female dan. Then I could return to my own troop at the Forbidden City.”
“So this was only a temporary arrangement?” the inspector asked. Wangshu nodded. It made no sense, then, for Wangshu to kill her rival when she wasn’t planning to stay.
“At least, I hoped it was,” Wangshu finally added. “But you know the empress. Her mind is changeable. If she liked the public’s response toward me, she might have ordered me to stay longer.”
“Do you think she would have ordered you to join the troop permanently?” he asked.
“I don’t think so,” Wangshu said. “I am the best dan the opera world has ever seen. And the empress always collects the best of everything for herself. She wouldn’t want to let me go forever. But after I cleared the path, she might have ordered another woman to take my place.”
Inspector Gong couldn’t suppress a smile from the side of his mouth. While the character of Xueyan was a model of humility, Wangshu clearly had none. He had to admit, she was good, but he hadn’t seen enough operas in his life to know if she was really the best.
“I’m going to ask you a hard question,” the inspector said, leaning forward with his arms on his knees. “And it would be best if you answer truthfully. Will anyone else tell me that you had a reason to kill Fanhua?”
Wangshu cocked her head and blinked slowly. She leaned back in her seat. In truth, Inspector Gong couldn’t yet see a reason why Wangshu would kill Fanhua. He was hoping that her reaction to this question would tell him something new. Most people would simply blurt out no, whether they were guilty or not. Some people would hesitate, as though really considering the question from other perspectives, but they would be anxious to say no. Wangshu’s long, easy deliberation confused him. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. Though the more he considered her, the less sure he was of her answers. After all, she—by her own account—was an incredible actress. Could he believe anything she said?
“No,
” she finally said. “I had no reason to kill Fanhua. If anything, he had reason to kill me. I was the one who took his place, after all.”
“Do you think he hated you enough to want you dead?” the inspector asked. “Did you kill him preemptively? A form of self-defense?”
Wangshu laughed. “You are really grasping at straws now, inspector.”
He reached a hand behind his neck and stretched. Perhaps he was. But it was late, or possibly early. He wasn’t sure at this point. And he still had more interviews to do before people started forgetting what they saw.
He stood up to take his leave. “Where are you staying?” he asked.
Wangshu motioned toward the small, had couch. “Many of the actors live here at the theater, including me, for the time being.”
“Then don’t go anywhere,” the inspector ordered. “I need to be able to locate you at all times.”
Wangshu sighed with annoyance and turned away to finish cleaning up.
As the inspector left the room, he noticed that the prince’s guard’s head was drooping. He slapped the guard on the arm to get his attention.
“Hey!” he said. “Don’t let her out of your sight, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir!” the man said, standing to attention. “Of course, sir.”
“I’d hate to see your head roll if she escapes,” the inspector said as he walked down the hall toward the dressing room for the Lord of Hell.
The door was closed, but he could hear someone inside, so he knocked. “Changpu?” he said, recalling what Wangshu had said his name was.
A man he didn’t recognize opened the door. “Yes?” the man asked.
“Changpu?” the inspector asked, confused.
“Yes,” the man, who was now shorter, bald, and of average build, said. Stage makeup was truly magic. “Can I help you?”
Inspector Gong pushed his way into the room. “I need to ask you a few questions before I leave tonight.”
The man sighed. “Very well. I was afraid this was coming but had hoped it could wait until tomorrow. I’m exhausted.”
Murder at the Peking Opera Page 5