Will Thomas - Fatal Enquiry

“My word,” I exclaimed. “So, what happened then?”

“Sebastian came two days later, showing a scratch on the cheek and a split lip. He had been to his tailor and barber, who had done their best for him. We had a long chat and I told him I was not the fool he evidently thought me to be. I sent him off with a flea in his ear. He was a rascal and a charming one, but a woman who marries a rascal deserves the misery that she gets.”

“And Mr. Barker?” I prompted.

“He disappeared for several days. I hired a solicitor and even spoke with a few officials but one cannot circumvent the imperial court system. One morning I received a message and called a palanquin to the magistrate’s house in the middle of Canton. Cyrus was seated in the dust, chained to a cangue .”

“What is a cangue ?”

“It is a heavy wooden structure built like a door that is locked about a prisoner’s neck. He cannot feed himself or sleep or even drink while he is locked in it. Cyrus had been beaten, as well. One eye was enormously swelled and bleeding.”

“Didn’t they realize he was a British citizen?” I asked.

“Apparently there had been no precedent for a Westerner to break the law while dressed as a Chinaman. The magistrate declared that he was in fact a peasant who just happened to look rather foreign. It allowed them to save face and execute justice swiftly.”

“But how could the magistrate rule without a trial with witnesses and barristers?”

“You have to understand Chinese law. Cyrus, declared Chinese, was guilty of breaching the peace. Order was restored and the guilty punished. The English were responsible for punishing foreign prisoners and the Chinese their own. That was the end of it.”

“How long was he in the cangue ?”

“Three days. By the third day, he had passed out completely. It was summer and very hot. He was finally released into my care. I had him carried back to Shameen in a litter. He was bedridden for two weeks, but you know, he has told me he never regretted it. He stopped Sebastian from proposing to me. And I got what I wanted, as well.”

“What was that?” I asked.

“We cut off his pigtail and made a Scotsman of him again. It was like a rebirth.”

“Did Nightwine finally leave Canton when he realized he couldn’t marry you?”

“He took an assignment in Peking and began intriguing there. Sebastian can thrive just about anywhere. He always sinks to the lowest spot and puts down roots. In this case he learned how to bribe the imperial eunuchs within the Forbidden City to get what he wanted.”

“Which was?”

“Which was Cyrus’s head upon a platter.”

“Literally?” I demanded.

“Literally enough. Six months later we received an announcement from Peking ordering Shi Shi Ji to the palace. You recall, he had been declared Chinese, and was therefore under the jurisdiction of the Ching government.”

“The Dowager Empress! But that’s who gave him Harm. How did that come about?” I demanded. I had been trying to get the story from Barker for two years.

“I’m afraid I cannot tell you,” she said. “It is his story to tell. And frankly, it is no story for a woman.”

I thought about what she said and retreated from the questions I wanted to ask. Instead, I brought the matter back to the present situation.

“This feud between Mr. Barker and Nightwine isn’t all about his brother, then.”

“No, it isn’t. Every time they meet something happens between them to add tension to the spring, so to speak. It’s going to break sooner or later.”

“Not sooner or later, ma’am. This time. Mr. Barker said it himself. McClain’s death: it’s like his brother died all over again. I don’t need a gift for prophecy to see that disaster is in the air.”

She set her cup down delicately. “You’re supposed to reassure me that everything is all right, Thomas, not to rattle my nerves even further.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Do your best to be there,” she said, her eyes boring into mine. “I don’t believe you can stop either one of them, but at least be there. At his elbow, if you can. He’ll need a friend beside him.”

It had been a long and eventful day and it was time to go home. Somehow, being away for a while had cemented the house in Newington as home in my mind. I missed its denizens and wanted more than anything to be there, and now, finally, I stood at number 3 Lion Street, Barker’s private address, where I had lived for the past two years.

Holding my breath, I turned the doorknob and stepped inside. The hall looked the same. There was the hat stand with its array of sticks waiting to be used, and the standing clock by the stairs. The house smelled of beeswax and lemon oil and the must of old books. Everything was prepared for the return of its owner. My advent was inconsequential. Hard by the entrance, Jacob Maccabee’s door opened and he emerged with his sawn-down shotgun pointed in my direction. The first time I’d met him our butler had pointed this same shotgun at me in defense of the house.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, lowering the gun. “Thank Hashem.”

The man looked shattered. His eyes were hollow and dark and he looked thinner than when I’d seen him last.

“It’s good to see you, Jacob,” I replied. Then I realized I had called him by his first name. I’d always called him Mac before. It was what Barker called him. When I was sore at him, which was most of the time, I called him Mr. Maccabee. I suppose I had actually been concerned for his welfare.

“Where’s the Guv?” he asked.

“He’s gone underground. I know he’s worked out some plan, but he’s keeping it to himself. I was arrested and released, pending my trial for assaulting an officer of the law.” I noticed his hands were shaking. “You look as though you’ve had a hard time of it.”

“That dratted Nightwine broke in here with members of the Elephant and Castle gang. They burst in through the back door when I was on my knees polishing the linoleum. There was a half dozen of them at least. They locked me in my room, and kicked me about when they got bored. They stayed for several days, eating everything in the pantry and drinking all the beer. Worst of all, they used a jimmy and broke open the safe. I don’t know what they got away with, but they were exultant. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them.”

“No one expected you to stop them,” I told him. “You’re not a bodyguard and things can be replaced. You know the Guv is not sentimental.”

“Still, I should have done something.”

“Where’s Harm?” I asked, suddenly thinking of Barker’s dog.

“He’s outside guarding the house.”

I strode down the hall and opened the back door. Harm came waddling over the bridge, looking neglected, but basically sound. I bent down to wait for him and he brushed up against my hand, a trifle warily.

“Hello, boy,” I said, scratching him behind the ears. “Looks like we all survived the ordeal.”

The Pekingese sniffed at my laces and wagged his tail absently. He was Barker’s dog, but he tolerated me, at least enough to spend half the night on the foot of my bed most of the time. Having finished the inspection of my trouser legs, he went to the front door. He scratched against it and then resting his front paws on the door, looked back over his shoulder at me with his chocolate face and a half-hopeful, half-miserable expression as if to say, “Will you produce him now?”

“I’m sorry, boy,” I said. “He’s not coming home just yet.”

The dog lowered himself again, heaved a snorting sigh, and then made three circles before settling himself in a ball in front of the door.