And I left the other pair on the houseboat.
He couldn’t afford to let himself be identified by his scars.
“You know I can’t do it without the gloves,” he said.
“Damn it, Cí. Hide them—put them up your ass for all I care. You could do it with your hands tied behind your back nowadays.”
He should have said no, but his increased confidence led him to agree. From what Xu had told him, Cí figured old age would probably be the cause of death, which would eliminate the need for much examination. He put the mask on in the pavilion and went out to receive the cortege while keeping his hands tucked into his sleeves. He took one look at the corpse and knew a stroke had killed the man.
Fine. We’ll just do our routine.
He bowed to the retinue and approached the coffin. The neck was swollen, the wrinkled face was peaceful, and the funeral outfit smelled of incense and sandalwood. There was nothing out of the ordinary. He didn’t need to handle the body. All the family wanted was something specific, and that was what he’d give them. Making sure his hands were well hidden, he pretended to examine the face, neck, and ears, passing his sleeves across them.
“Death by stroke,” he announced finally.
The family members bowed in thanks, and Cí bowed back. Straightforward. But as he withdrew, there was a shout behind him.
“Take him!”
Before he knew it, two men had grabbed him and a third was searching him.
“What is it?” asked Cí, struggling.
“Where is it?” one of them said. “Where have you put it?”
“We saw the way you were hiding your hands under your sleeves,” said another. “Thief!”
Cí looked to Xu for help, but Xu was keeping his distance, looking out for himself as always. His captors demanded he give back the pearl brooch he’d stolen. Of course, he hadn’t stolen it, but Cí knew they wouldn’t believe anything he said. They stripped him naked and found nothing—still they weren’t satisfied. They threw his clothes in his face and told him to cover himself.
“You’d better tell us where it is; otherwise you’re getting a beating.”
A boy had already been sent into town to report him to the authorities, but the rest of the family didn’t seem willing to wait. The two men twisted Cí’s arms behind him.
“I didn’t take anything! I barely even touched him!”
A punch to the stomach doubled him over. He gasped for air.
“Give it back. Or you’re dead.”
Another man approached with a noosed rope. Cí cried out, “It’s a mistake. I haven’t taken anything!” He felt a knot being tied around his throat. Then an imperious voice boomed out.
“Let him go!”
The men took their hands off Cí as the head of the family stepped forward.
“You don’t know how sorry I am,” said the man, bowing remorsefully. “I just found it in the coffin. It must have fallen off in transit.”
Cí said nothing. He dusted himself off and walked away.
That night he lay on the roof of the houseboat and meditated on the incident, which was a reminder that he was walking a fine line in this work. The slightest slip—even paying more attention to hiding the burns on his hands than anything else—could mean serious trouble.
Not a good day. Soon it would be the New Year, and he’d turn twenty-one. The violence felt like a bad omen.
Two days later, things went from bad to worse.
He and Xu were polishing a coffin in the Eternal Mausoleum when they heard a strange murmuring outside. At first Cí attributed it to the man who hummed incessantly when he raked the leaves. Soon, though, he realized the sounds were coming from dogs. His hair stood on end; his last encounter with a dog had been with Sheriff Kao’s hound, and people didn’t typically bring dogs into the cemetery. He hurried over to the door and peeked out.
Kao was heading up the hill with a bloodhound. Instinctively, Cí crouched down.
“I need your help!” he implored Xu. “The man who’s coming—go and stall him for me. I need to figure out what to do.”
Xu looked outside. “A sheriff! You in some kind of trouble?”
“No! Just don’t let him know I’m here.”
“And what about the dog?”
“Please, Xu, I’m begging you!”
Xu went outside just as Kao reached the mausoleum entrance. Xu stood back as Kao restrained the dog.
“Lovely animal,” he said, shutting the door behind him and bowing. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“I suppose so,” growled Kao. “Are you the man they call the fortune-teller?”
“Yes, Xu is my name.”
“A couple of days ago a robbery was reported. Do you know anything about it? They said a brooch was stolen here in the cemetery.”
“Oh, that! Let me see…Yes, it was all a big misunderstanding. There was a family, prickly they were, and they thought we’d taken a brooch from a corpse. But it was found—it had just fallen into the coffin. That was all.”
“Yes, that’s what I heard.”
“So is there a problem?”
“The report mentioned a young man who was helping you. He was in disguise and had burn marks on his hands and torso. This fits the description of a fugitive I’ve been tracking: a young male, tall and slim, good-looking, hair tied up…”
“That little bastard!” spat Xu. “I’ve been cursing myself for hiring him. He vanished yesterday and took some money from me. I was going to report it at the end of the week.”
“Mmm,” grunted Kao. “So I suppose you have no idea where he is now?”
“No, I mean, he could be anywhere…What’s he wanted for?”
“Stealing money. There’s also a reward on his head.”
Xu’s tone changed. “A reward?”
Just then there was a noise from inside the mausoleum.
“Is there someone in there?”
“No, I swear—”
“Out of the way!”
Though he’d bolted the door, Cí could see Xu wasn’t able to detain Kao. The cemetery suddenly seemed very small; even if he escaped through a window of the mausoleum and ran, the hound would surely catch him. There was no way out. He was trapped.
“Nothing in there but the dead!” he heard Xu cry, as Kao began battering on the bolted mausoleum door.
“I’ll make sure of that,” roared Kao.
The door was sturdy, and the bolt seemed as though it could withstand the pounding Kao was giving it. Standing back, Kao spied a large board on the ground. Grabbing it, he smiled at Xu. The first impact made splinters fly; two more and a large crack appeared in the door. Kao was about to strike again when the door opened from inside. A figure stepped out, dressed in a necromancer’s outfit, arms raised and trembling.
“The mask, take it off! Now!” shouted Kao. The dog was straining at the leash.
The man’s hands were trembling so much he couldn’t undo the knots on the mask.
“Get on with it! The gloves, take them off!”
The man began taking the gloves off, peeling them away one finger at a time. First the right, then the left. Kao’s face went from triumph to stupefaction in an instant.
“But…but you…”
The hands were wrinkled, but there wasn’t a single burn on them. Overcome with rage, Kao ripped the mask off, coming face-to-face with an elderly, and clearly very frightened, man.
“Out of my way.”
Kao pushed past the imposter and went into the mausoleum, kicking anything and everything in his path. He howled: the place was empty. He came back out and grabbed Xu.
“Damned liar! Tell me where he is or I’ll stuff your head down your throat!”
Xu swore he didn’t know.
“I’m going to have eyes on you day and night. If that boy comes back to you, I swear you’ll regret it.”