“I don’t know George well at all, but I adored Dory,” I said. “She taught me everything I know about Chinese history and art.”
“She was indeed very knowledgeable—George as well in the field in which he collects. Now, what do we have here?” he said, stopping in front of the silver box. It was open, and placed on a pedestal so that you could view it from all sides, which Dr. Xie did. “This contains a formula for the elixir of immortality,” he said after some study. “The author of the writing in this box was almost certainly an alchemist. That is most interesting.”
“Alchemist? You mean someone who tries to turn base metals into gold?”
“That was part of Chinese alchemy,” he said. “Yes, people did want to produce gold, just as alchemists in Europe did. But, like alchemists everywhere, there was a more spiritual dimension to their pursuit as well. Chinese alchemists wanted to become an Immortal, and to dwell in the otherworld with other Immortals. Alchemists here would have almost certainly espoused Taoism as their religion, and Taoists believe that both the po and the hun, the body and the spirit, remain after death. Just as a matter of interest, people went to extraordinary lengths to preserve their bodies. Some alchemists, and some Taoists, managed to more or less mummify themselves while they were still alive by eating only mica and pine gum.”
I managed not to gag. Despite this rather strange interest in achieving immortality, Dr. Xie was an interesting and scholarly individual. “The pill or elixir of immortality was part of that process,” he continued. “You partook of it, and you became immortal. It could happen suddenly. One minute you’d be there, and the next you’d vanish, leaving your clothes behind you.”
“Given the ingredients, things like arsenic and mercury, this elixir of immortality sounds a bit dangerous.”
“And it was. You do know, though, that poisonous substances are used in the treatment of disease all the time,” he said. “Arsenic was, for a long time, just about the only successful treatment for syphilis, and after all, digitalis, or foxglove, is a poison that is used in the treatment of heart disorders. I could name many more. We treat allergies using tiny amounts of the substances the patient is allergic to, as well. Large amounts might result in anaphylactic shock and possibly death, but tiny amounts help you build up immunity. As for the elixir of immortality, many Chinese people, including emperors, knew the ingredients were toxic, but they took it in small doses anyway. Several Chinese emperors, possibly including the first Chinese emperor, Qin Shi Huangdi, the man we know from the terra-cotta warriors in Xi’an, died trying to become immortal. It is possible that five of the twenty-one Tang emperors died of poisoning in their quest for immortality.”
“Was this Illustrious August mentioned here one of them?”
“No. Illustrious August was deposed in a coup, abdicating in favor of his son, and dying some time later. Not nearly so glamorous.”
“You’ve made a study of alchemy, have you?” I asked.
“In a way, yes. I am a Taoist. Technically, in the People’s Republic of China there is no religion. But now, people are not usually persecuted for their beliefs, with some notable exceptions. I am happy to say I was able to contribute funds toward the restoration of a Taoist temple close to my home that was damaged during the Cultural Revolution, and I occasionally go there for spiritual renewal, and sometimes solace, I’m interested in alchemy, I suppose, because of my business. But really, striving for immortality is not so different from believing in heaven, is it?”
“No, I guess it isn’t. Are you thinking of bidding on the T’ang box, Dr. Xie?”
“I don’t believe so. It would be interesting to own, of course, but unlike George Matthews, I don’t collect in my area of business. I am very interested, however, in the folio of the seventeenth-century poet over there. It is that I have come to see. And you?”
“I’m interested in the T’ang box,” I said.
“For yourself?”
“For a client.” It was tempting to tell the very pleasant Dr. Xie, who claimed to be friend to both George and Dory Matthews, who that client might be, but I’d made a promise and I was going to keep it.
“I expect you will find Burton a formidable opponent.”
“I expect I will. I plan to emerge victorious.”
“I wish you the best of luck,” he said. “I will enjoy the encounter, especially if you are the top bidder. Dr. Haldimand may be a good customer of Xie Homeopathic, as he is wont to tell me at great length and often, but I will be in your corner in this endeavor.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Now if you will excuse me, I am going to take a look at that folio. Perhaps you and I will have a celebratory glass of champagne after the auction.”
“I would like that very much.”
“Excellent. I will look forward to seeing you then.”
Ruby, who was looking very smart in her fake Prada shoes and handbag, headed my way when she saw that I was alone. “I am wondering if you have done something to offend Dr. Haldimand? He looks at you with some annoyance.”
“That is because I have been having a lovely chat with someone he was hoping to impress,” I replied.
“Xie Jinghe is a very important man,” Ruby agreed.
“Yes, and I hope to annoy Dr. Haldimand even more on Thursday when I purchase the silver box that he wants.” Ruby giggled. I left her to take another look at the art on offer.
I would have cause to think long and often about what transpired next. Burton was looking at a lovely watercolor on the far side of the room. Dr. Xie was chatting with Mira near the folio he wanted to purchase. They seemed to be conferring on some subject of importance, as opposed to just small talk. Ruby and David were sharing a joke of some kind. I was just standing there, trying to get a feel for the place and what I thought the prices might be like, how the room might be set for the auction—anything, really, that would make me feel more comfortable about what I had to do. I suppose I sensed rather than saw someone enter the room, and turned to see that another person had joined us.
He was dressed very fashionably in a black turtleneck and slacks and Gucci loafers. Real Gucci loafers. He looked as if he could afford to be there. He surveyed the room from the door, glanced briefly at the young man at his computer game, and then came and stood in front of a painting, studying it from a distance. Then another man, equally well dressed, came in. I couldn’t see his face, but he had spiky hair, and there was something in his stance that made me recognize him as the third bidder in New York, the man in fake Hugo Boss, the person I called Mr. Knockoff. This time the man was wearing ersatz Armani.
As I watched in dismay, Mr. Knockoff took several swift steps farther into the room, grabbed the silver box, and headed for the door. I yelped, and all of us turned, including the man at the desk who finally stood up. Dr. Xie, who was closest, made an attempt to stop the man by tripping him with his cane, but to no avail. David, who was a lot faster than the rest of us, sprinted toward the doors, with the man in black right behind him. Mr. Knockoff ran down the escalator, David in hot pursuit.