Peter May - The Fourth Sacrifice

Michael caught her look and paused. ‘Something wrong?’ He glanced from one to the other.

‘Why don’t we take a walk,’ Li said, and the three of them headed away around the curve of the wall in the dappled shade of the spruce trees that climbed all around them. The sound of crew shouting to each other as they set up the next shot, and ADs marshalling the hundreds of extras waiting patiently in the square below, faded into the distance. Instead, the sound of birdsong and small creatures scuttling through the undergrowth came into earshot, and beyond there was a strange silence hanging in the haze that shimmered across the valley in the lee of Dayu Hill.

‘What’s this all about?’ Michael asked Margaret.

She raised her hands in her own defence. ‘I’m sorry, Michael,’ she said. ‘This is not my idea.’

Li flicked her a look of annoyance. Then he turned to Michael. ‘We understand that you were acquainted with a Mr Yuan Tao who worked in the visa department of the United States Embassy, as well as a Professor Yue Shi of the archaeology department at Beijing University.’

Margaret saw the skin darken behind the tan on Michael’s face, and then felt the full force of hurt and accusation in his eyes as he looked at her, like a dog whose trusted master has just kicked it. He turned back to Li. ‘That’s correct,’ he said. ‘In fact I knew Professor Yue quite well. Though Mr Yuan barely at all.’

Li said, ‘Well enough to advise him on where to purchase a reproduction sword.’

‘Only because he asked. Which is the one time I ever had any contact with him. Someone at the embassy recommended me to him. So he sought me out, and I pointed him in the direction of a dealer in the Underground City. But that was months ago. I haven’t even seen him since.’

‘So you have no idea if he was successful in finding the sword he was looking for?’

Michael shook his head. ‘No.’

‘But you are aware that his is one of the murders we are investigating?’

He sighed. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘How do you know?’

This time Michael looked at Margaret again. ‘Sophie told me,’ he said.

‘And Sophie is …?’ Li asked.

Margaret said, ‘Sophie Daum. She’s the assistant RSO at the embassy. You met her this morning.’

‘Oh. Yes,’ Li said.

The walkie-talkie on Michael’s belt crackled. A voice said, ‘Michael, are you there?’

Michael raised it to his face. ‘Yeah, Dave.’

‘That’s your make-up call.’

‘OK. Be there in a minute.’ He clipped it back on his belt. ‘Is there anything else?’

‘Yes,’ Li said. But he took his time in asking. ‘Are you aware how Professor Yue was murdered?’

‘Yes,’ Michael said. His expression now was resentful, and he was volunteering no more than he was asked.

Li remained impassive. ‘Well, would you like to tell me?’

‘He was decapitated.’

‘How do you know this?’

‘Jesus,’ Michael said, his exasperation finally getting the better of him. ‘Everyone in the department knew what had happened to him. Apparently the place was crawling with cops for days. It was common knowledge.’ He paused and looked at Margaret. ‘Besides, I saw the photographs.’

Li was startled. ‘What photographs?’ And Margaret blushed to the roots of her hair.

‘The photographs that Margaret took to Xi’an with her.’

Li turned an icy stare on Margaret, and clenched his jaw. She couldn’t meet his eye. He said to Michael, ‘Can you tell me where you were and what you were doing the night Yuan Tao was murdered?’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Li-’ Margaret wheeled on him, patience at breaking point.

But Michael interrupted, ‘Why don’t you ask Margaret?’ he said.

Margaret was momentarily perplexed, and then with a huge sense of relief, realisation dawned. ‘The pre-production party at the Ambassador’s residence,’ she said.

‘As I recall you left about ten,’ Michael said. ‘The party went on until about eleven thirty, and then a bunch of us went on to the Mexican Wave bar in Dongdaqiao Lu. It must have been about two when we left.’ He turned his focus briefly on Li. ‘Frankly, I resent these questions, Detective.’ Then he turned back to Margaret. ‘And I’m disappointed that you should even think that I could have any connection with this.’

‘I don’t,’ Margaret said flatly. She turned to Li. ‘I think we should go.’

Michael’s walkie-talkie crackled again. ‘Michael?’ The voice was insistent.

‘On my way,’ he said, and with a curt nod he headed back along the top of the wall.

Li and Margaret stood for a long time saying nothing, before finally Margaret turned away to lean on the crenellation and stare out bleakly over the sun-scorched valley.

‘You let him see confidential photographic evidence?’ Li’s voice was very level, but there was no mistaking the anger in it.

She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. She was in the wrong and knew it. ‘I didn’t mean to.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Li said. ‘You just happened to show him the photographs by accident?’

‘Actually, yes.’ She spun to face him. ‘I’d been going through all the evidence in my hotel room. The stuff was spread all over the bed. You might remember, I phoned you. You more or less told me to fuck off.’ Li did remember. He had spent several hours regretting it afterwards. She said. ‘Michael came to fetch me. We were going to dinner. I’d dropped some stuff on the floor and he helped me pick it up. That’s when he saw the photograph. And he was pretty shaken up by it.’

‘Not enough to spoil your night out, though.’

It took a great effort of will to stop herself from slapping him again. ‘You bastard,’ she said. ‘All that stuff about not letting personal matters cloud professional judgement? Crap. You kicked me off like an old goddamn shoe. OK, I’ve had to accept that. But you can’t stand to see me with anyone else, can you?’ She glared at him. ‘Well, congratulations. You’ve probably just ruined my relationship with Michael. And for what? To confirm what we both always knew. That he has absolutely no involvement in this whatsoever.’ And she turned on her heel and marched angrily away.

He stood for a moment, reeling from the force of her tirade. Of course, he knew she was right. Zimmerman’s connection to the killings was tenuous at best. And Li wondered exactly why he had wanted to come out here and press those questions about Yuan and Professor Yue. Was he really letting jealousy cloud his judgement?

Margaret was halfway across the square, pushing her way through the mass of extras, before he caught up with her. He fell into step beside her, and they crossed the little stone bridge that the Red Guards had smashed thirty-four years earlier.

‘So what now?’ he said.

It was a long time before she responded. Finally she said, ‘I think it’s probably about time we talked to those people with a motive for wanting to kill Yuan Tao.’

‘And who would that be?’

She stopped, and he was a couple of paces past her before he realised it, and could turn back. ‘Who do you think?’ she asked contemptuously.

She clearly was not going to share her thoughts with him, and he realised that he had not given it any serious consideration. The discovery of the diary, tracing the vendor of the weapon, the connection with Zimmerman, had all distracted him from focusing on the question that the diary itself had thrown into sharp focus by revealing Yuan as the killer of the other three. Who had a motive for killing Yuan? And even as the thought formed, the answer seemed obvious. ‘The remaining members of the Revolt-to-the-End Brigade.’

‘Congratulations,’ said Margaret. ‘You have just won a sunshine holiday for two in Florida.’ And she marched off down the paved and cobbled walkway.