The administering of the poison was to be a subject high on our list of questions to ask those present in the house at the death of Old Geng. But our first port of call, out of courtesy, was the home of Li Wen-Tao. The prefect at first suggested he call the old lady and the boy to the prison to be interrogated by Lin and me. But I said that was not a good idea, as they would both be afraid of being tortured. Li Wen-Tao had looked astonished, suggesting that is exactly why he made the proposal.
‘Do you not want to frighten and whip the truth out of them?’
‘No, I would rather see them in their own home. They are not suspects, after all. Simply witnesses at this point.’
The prefect cast a look of appeal at Lin, presumably thinking his fellow Chinee would understand and countermand my wishes. Lin merely inclined his head.
‘Master Zuliani is the Chief Investigator. I am simply here to record what we learn.’
Li sighed and gave us directions to the Geng household.
The house was run-down and shabby at first sight. But when Lin and I stepped through the courtyard doors there were signs that someone had attempted to keep the place tidy. An old lady came hobbling over, her tiny feet encased in beautifully embroidered slippers. I knew from being at Kubilai’s court that only the elite and the rich bound the feet of their children to produce this effect. Madam Gao was not from a poor, peasant family therefore. She approached Lin, and bowed low before him, dressed as he was in his red robe, a symbol of his status. I was once again clad in Mongol jacket and breeches. Even as the old lady deferred to Lin, her eyes flickered over me uncertainly. She couldn’t place me in the pecking order, and therefore concentrated on the known quantity that was the official in red. Even so, she would not ignore me, as that in itself could have been a dangerous move on her part.
Lin eased her confusion with some words spoken in Chinee. I was beginning to understand some words now, and knew he was introducing me as the Khan’s investigator. She smiled nervously and bowed to me. Indicating that we should follow her, she went inside. A servant was called and a not unpleasant hot brew called tea was served. An awkward three-way conversation then developed, with Lin asking questions of Madam Gao in Chinee, and then translating for me. When I wanted to ask a question, I had to do it through Lin as intermediary. It made for a slow, and for me, frustrating interview. It went something like this, starting with Lin’s opening question.
‘The broth that your daughter-in-law made was intended for you, I believe.’
Gao pulled a face, the wrinkles on her brow turning into deep furrows.
‘Aiii, yes. To think if I had drunk it, I would now be dead. It does not bear thinking about.’
‘Then you think the poison was intended for you?’
‘I cannot say for certain. But what I am very sure of is that, if it was intended for me, then Jianxu still has to be innocent. Why should she want to kill me? I have looked after her since taking her in as a child. Her father could not afford his studies and her mother had died. He left Jianxu with me, and in return she served me as any proper daughter of my own blood would have. She even married my son.’
She began sniffling at this point, and Lin explained she was upset by having brought up the death of her son, Jianxu’s husband. I listened to his explanation of Jianxu’s history, and wanted clarification.
‘Then she didn’t just marry into the Gao family. She was adopted by Madam Gao first. Ask her who she thinks put the poison into the soup, if it wasn’t Jianxu.’
On being asked by Lin, the old lady looked cautiously over her shoulder before replying.
‘Who else could it have been but that lazy son of Geng’s? He didn’t want me to marry his father, because then he might lose the money from Old Geng’s business. It was him. He tried to kill me, and in his usual ham-fisted way ended up killing his own father.’
After Lin had translated this outburst for me, he asked me if there was anything else I wanted to ask the old woman. I said there wasn’t at present, and Lin dismissed her. He told her to send Wenbo to us. She shuffled off, muttering under her breath. I sipped at the bowl of tea, but it had gone cold and didn’t taste so good any more. I yearned for a good robust red wine. Just as we thought that the boy wasn’t going to turn up, we heard raised voices from another part of the house. Lin smiled.
‘That is Madam Gao telling Wenbo to get out of bed and speak to the investigator before she sets the demon on him. I think that’s you, Zhong Kui.’
I pulled a face that I imagined resembled the drawings I had seen of the demon in question. And just at that moment a skinny lad entered the room. Seeing me, he whimpered and almost fled. Lin waved his hand imperiously, and coaxed the boy to come and sit. Close up, I could see he was older than I had thought at first. He was twenty at least, though still somewhat gangly and awkward, which contributed to the impression he was much younger. He stared wide-eyed at Lin, hardly daring to look at me. Lin spoke sternly to him.
‘You worked for your father?’
The youth nodded.
‘If you had dealings with the staff at Taitemir the Mongol’s palace, then you can speak their language?’
Another nod. At this rate, I reckoned we didn’t need to tax Wenbo’s language skills. We would get all we wanted from him with a nod and a shake of the head. But Lin ploughed on.
‘Then you will speak directly in that language with the investigator.’
He pointed at me, and Geng Wenbo reluctantly turned his gaze my way. I started with a question designed to unbalance him, and elicit an unconsidered response.
‘Did you kill your father deliberately, or was it an accident?’
Wenbo gaped open-mouthed at me.
‘Accident? How could it have been an accident?’
‘Then you meant to do it.’
The youth’s voice went up a pitch.
‘Noooo, you are twisting my words. I didn’t do it. Nor did Jianxu. You should ask her–‘ he hooked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the absent Madam Gao, – ‘why she let my father eat the broth. I didn’t kill him. He was my father.’
‘And he was going to marry Madam Gao. Your hold on your father’s business would then have been precarious, especially as he thought you were incompetent.’
‘Who told you that? That old bitch? Yes, she had designs on my father. But that didn’t matter, because I was going to marry Jianxu. Did she tell you that as well?’
TWELVE
If you must play, decide on three things at the start: the rules of the game, the stakes, and the quitting time.
‘They’re just accusing each other. This is getting us nowhere.’
Lin nodded in agreement at my observations on our morning’s work.
‘We can’t just concentrate on the moment of the murder. We have to delve into the past and find out more about the reason why Geng was murdered.’ He sighed. ‘We need to go back to the beginning.’
‘But where is the beginning?’
I was getting more and more depressed about finishing this before Guan presented his play to the public showing Jianxu in all her innocence.
‘Is it when Jianxu was left as a child with the Gao family? How are we going to dig that far back?’
‘Jianxu herself can tell you.’
It was Gurbesu who spoke up. She had been sitting in the corner of the room listening to our debate. Tadeusz had not yet put in an appearance, and was presumably still ferreting around finding out what he could about where the aconite might have come from. I challenged Gurbesu’s opinion that the girl was the best source to go to for information about the past.
‘She was a child when she was left with Gao. Her knowledge of what happened will be clouded by the view of a child. And if she is guilty of murder her testimony will not be the most reliable.’
‘It will be a start, and we could check her story with neighbours. As for her fabricating facts to cover up her guilt, you yourself have said often enough that a murderer can be uncovered as much by their lies as by the truth.’