“I see. So if Dory wanted to put the set of three together, she missed one?”
“I have no idea, but there are three boxes. I thought perhaps that meant they are fakes. Having found this anomaly, I started looking for more boxes, just in case. That was when I began to notice something interesting about T’ang dynasty objects. I went back through your entire stash of catalogs, which covers pretty well a decade of the major auctions in New York and Toronto. I can tell you that there has been a sharp increase in T’ang objects offered for sale in the last five years, running perhaps four times the average for the previous five years. Do you see what I mean? Most of the increase is at Molesworth and Cox, incidentally.”
“It could be that more people are selling T’ang objects as prices rise, simple as that. They see other items similar to what they have fetching attractive sums, so they put theirs on the market, too. Is there anything you can tell me about the two boxes, other than size and the fact they look right?”
“Both sold at Molesworth and Cox, one in New York, one in Toronto. Both are supposed to have belonged to someone by the name of Lingfei. The seller of the first box to come on the market, the one sold three years ago, was someone by the name of, just a minute, I won’t pronounce this well, Dr. Jinghe Xie.”
“No kidding,” I said.
“You know him?”
“I do. He’s here. In China, he’s Xie Jinghe, of course, but it’s the same man. And the second box?”
“No owner listed. Does this mean something significant?”
“I’m sure it does, but right now I don’t have a clue what that might be. What it does do is link Dr. Xie with the silver box, one of them at least. George Matthews obviously bought one of Xie Jinghe’s boxes, given the dimensions of the first match the one I saw at his home. It should also mean that Dr. Xie was not the mystery buyer on the telephone in New York, because he’d already sold a box. Why would he want another only slightly smaller than the one he’d had in his possession and chosen to sell? It’s also possible that George and Dory just missed the second box up for sale. Dory would just have been leaving the Cottingham, and she didn’t purchase in her area of employment on principle, and George might have decided one was enough, not realizing his wife would be more than a little interested in all of them.”
“You should know that many of the T’ang objects up for sale in the past five years are from the collection of this Dr. Xie.”
“Not sure what that means either. It was legal to buy and sell Chinese artifacts at that time. He has a tremendous number of them. Maybe he was just unloading a few to make room for more. When we talked about the silver box at the preview in Beijing, he didn’t mention that he’d once owned a similar one. I don’t know about that. Maybe he simply didn’t think it was relevant. Still, you’d think he’d say something. Did he suddenly realize that his box was part of a nesting set, more valuable that way, and maybe he’d try to buy the other one back again? I can’t really ask him. What I do need to know, and short of someone getting a court order I never will, is who put the box up for sale in New York and then withdrew it from sale.”
“Dr. Xie also?”
“Maybe. Burton Haldimand had Dr. Xie down as a possible buyer, not the seller, but who knows? I can’t ask him that, either.”
“You are on bad terms with this Dr. Xie?”
“No, but if his name keeps popping up in this connection, I may be. Thank you for this, Alex. As usual you have been wonderful.”
“Take care of yourself,” he said.
“I plan to do that.” I did, too. As I completed the call, I parted the curtains carefully and looked out on to the street, Dong Dajie. It was still early enough that the stores were not open. The street cleaners were out, though, one in particular just sweeping away in front of the hotel. As I Watched, she looked up, shielding her eyes slightly. It was the woman with the scar on her face. It occurred to me she’d been there almost every day, except maybe when she was following me to the market. I just hadn’t really looked at her. “Whose side are you on?” I said to her through the curtain. I was going to have to be very careful getting out of this hotel.
While I’d been on the telephone with Alex, I’d received some calls. One was from Mira telling me that she was on her way back to Beijing and that she hoped she’d see me before I left. The second was from Dr. Xie saying much the same thing. He added that I should not go out by myself at night, as quite uncharacteristically Xi’an had turned violent. “Tell me something I don’t know,” I said to the voice mail.
And there was a third call telling me to get out of China or else. At least I think that’s what he said. Really, if people want to scare somebody into doing something, they should take the socks out of their mouths and enunciate clearly. Actually I thought getting out of China would normally have been a good idea, but given that I was just going back to the haunt of some of this telephone mumbler’s confreres, there didn’t seem much point. Beijing, however, sounded like a good idea to me. I called and booked a flight the next day.
Liu David had still not called me back. Maybe he was still kneeling on a bamboo mat in front of the Baxian Gong, afraid to take his fancy cell phone out lest it attract attention. I didn’t think so, though. The market would reopen next Sunday. I supposed he just was not in any position to return my call. I was reasonably sure he would, eventually.
I went on with my mulling. Alex had given me some very interesting information. I was certain that Dory had told me that she had seen the three boxes together, but that her stepfather had broken them up and sold them off in the mid 1970s. What had happened to them after that? Dr. Xie had obviously acquired one of them. Dory had also said that there would have been an outer wooden box that disintegrated. That continued to bother me even though I’d seen the silver caskets at Famen Si and learned they too had an outer wooden box. How as a young person would she have known that? Did her stepfather just tell her? And how would he know?
What if all these T’ang objects that were turning up in New York had been stolen from Lingfei’s tomb? Was that possible? Was it also possible that this was a business of Golden Lotus, along with their other nefarious activities? Did the fact that many objects had come from Dr. Xie’s collection make him a tomb robber as well as a successful businessman and philanthropist? He was certainly besotted with Chinese antiquities. Just how bad was his infatuation? And even if he were a tomb robber, what did this have to do with anything?
Then the telephone rang. I reached for it, but then drew back my hand. Was this to be another of those awful phone calls that would test my nerve? Should I let them know I was in the hotel? Still there were important calls I wanted to receive. I picked it up but didn’t say anything.
“Are you all right?” Rob said.
“So far.”
“Can you get to Beijing?”
“I think so. I have my passport and I have a flight.”
“It will take me several hours to get out of here.”
“I know.”
“Beijing. Your hotel. I’ll be there.”
“So will I.”
I was out the front door of the hotel very fast the next morning. I’d called Peter, the taxi driver who’d pestered me every time I left the hotel, and had him waiting at the door. The woman with the scar was out there, sweeping away. I hoped she didn’t see me because it was pretty clear she was spying on me, whether for ill or good I did not know. She did see me, though, and my bag being loaded into the back. She leaned against her broom and got out a cell phone. Somebody knew I was heading out of town. Still, we sped away the minute my door closed, and the hour plus drive to the airport went without incident. So far, so good.