Antonio Garrido - The Corpse Reader

“Buddha! That imbecile almost wrecked our whole night. Want me to call over one of the girls?”

“No…” said Cí. “It’s fine…” Everything was spinning.

“You sure? She seems to know what she’s doing, and she has the most delectable feet. I bet she wriggles like a frying fish. Don’t worry. We’re here to have fun!” And he signaled to a waiter to bring more drink.

Cí was soon enjoying himself again, and he and Gray Fox chatted as though they’d been friends their whole lives. Their commentary on the ridiculous old men drooling over the dancing girls, and the way the girls made mocking faces even as they took their money, had Cí in fits of laughter. They drank on until eventually their conversation lost all sense.

Then Gray Fox’s face changed, and he started talking about his loneliness. From a very young age he’d been sent to the best schools, so he’d always been surrounded by great wisdom, but he lacked the affection of his brothers, his mother’s kisses, and the intimacy of friendships. He’d learned self-esteem but also never to trust anyone. His life had been like that of a prize horse, shut up in golden stables, ready to kick the first person who came near.

“You have to forgive me,” said Gray Fox. “I’ve acted so badly toward you, but until you arrived at the academy the one thing I had was Ming’s admiration. When you came, all that attention shifted to you.”

Cí didn’t know what to say; the drink was making his thoughts blurry.

“Forget about it,” Cí said. “I’m not that good.”

“Yes, you are . Like this morning, you found something in the corpse’s ear— no one else noticed it. I feel like an idiot.”

“Don’t say that. Anyone could have found it.”

“ I didn’t though,” said Gray Fox, hanging his head.

Cí understood Gray Fox’s feeling of defeat. He fished around in his bag and pulled out a small piece of metal.

“Watch this,” said Cí. He slowly moved the piece of metal closer to a small iron dish on the floor until suddenly the dish leaped up to meet it.

“A magnet?” asked Gray Fox, trying to pull the dish off.

“Yes, and if you’d had one at the examination you would have found what I found: the metal bar inserted in the ear. The metal bar that killed the sheriff because it was pushed straight through to his brain.”

“Killed? Sheriff? What are you saying?” Gray Fox became animated again and took another drink. “So…the flask of liquor he was clutching…”

Cí pointed to an old man passed out on a divan across the room from them. He had a cane.

“See how he isn’t gripping it? The cane is just resting lightly in his hands. When someone dies, it’s like that; their last breath takes all their life force with it. The only way he could have been gripping the flask was if someone had introduced it into his hands after death and waited for the onset of rigor mortis.”

“A red herring?”

“Essentially,” said Cí, draining the last of his drink.

“You really are a devil,” chuckled Gray Fox.

Cí didn’t know what to say. The drink was making him blurrier and blurrier. A toast, he thought.

“To my new friend,” he said, lifting his cup.

“To mine,” said Gray Fox.

When more drinks came, Cí said he couldn’t possibly. Cups, customers, dancers—everything was spinning. But then he saw a svelte figure approaching and thought he recognized the almond eyes on the face that leaned down to kiss him. And the wet lips full of desire.

As Cí let himself be pulled in by the woman, Gray Fox got up.

If Cí had watched his new friend go, rather than abandoning himself to caresses, he would have been surprised to see Gray Fox suddenly seeming entirely sober as he walked with determination to the door, handed some coins to the man who’d attacked them earlier, and left the Palace of Pleasure.

22

By the time Cí woke, the sun was high over the rooftops of Lin’an.

The noise of passersby felt like a thousand lightning bolts piercing his tender brain. He got up gingerly, and when he saw the sign for the Palace of Pleasure above the pile of rubbish he’d slept in, a shiver went through him. Clearly his companions from the previous night had left without him, and he began the walk back to the academy alone.

When he got back, the guard told Cí that Ming had convened the pairs who had carried out the examination, and that they were to present their findings to a committee of professors in the Honorable Debating Hall.

“They began some time ago, but don’t you even think of going in looking like that.”

By the time Cí had washed up, changed clothes, and made it to the hall, it was Gray Fox’s turn to present his findings. Everyone in the room looked at Cí as he came in. He nodded at Gray Fox, but his new friend looked disdainfully away. It must be nerves, thought Cí, taking a seat and avoiding Ming’s disapproving gaze.

Gray Fox was at a lectern in the middle of the hall. Cí’s thinking was still very cloudy, and he hadn’t figured out what he would present, given Ming’s reprimand the day before. Cí rummaged in his bag for the report he’d written in the library. It wasn’t there.

Then he began hearing what he’d written, presented by Gray Fox.

It can’t be.

The extent of Gray Fox’s betrayal became clear. The night out, the friendliness, the confessions about his loneliness—it was nothing but a ruse. How could Cí have trusted him? It felt as if he were being stabbed over and over again as Gray Fox spoke.

By the time he finished—having repeated Cí’s findings word for word, right down to the conclusion about the flask of liquor and even saying that he hadn’t mentioned the metal bar in the ear because of the need to keep his finding secret—Cí had to force himself not to jump up and clobber him. He couldn’t call Gray Fox out, and he had no idea how he’d be able to prove that he himself wasn’t copying Gray Fox. Luckily, the one thing Cí hadn’t written in his report was how he knew Kao had been a sheriff. And that meant, when Ming began quizzing Gray Fox, the student hesitated.

“I…deduced his profession from the fact we were repeatedly told that secrecy was paramount.”

“ Deduced ?” asked Ming. “Don’t you mean copied ?”

Gray Fox’s eyebrows shot up. Cí held his breath.

“I…I don’t know what you mean, sir,” stammered Gray Fox.

“In that case, perhaps Cí could explain.” Ming nodded for Cí to come forward.

Cí did as he was told, folding up and leaving his notes in his bag. Coming to the lectern, he noted the fear in Gray Fox’s eyes. Clearly, Ming suspected something.

“We’re waiting,” said Ming.

“I’m afraid I don’t know exactly what for, sir.”

“You mean, you have no objections?” said Ming.

“No, venerable master.”

“Cí! Don’t play me for a fool. You don’t even have an opinion?”

Cí saw Gray Fox gulp, and he considered his words.

“My opinion is that someone has carried out some excellent work,” he said finally, gesturing to his partner. “The rest of us should all congratulate Gray Fox and carry on working for our goals.” And without waiting to be told, he stepped away from the lectern and, awash with resentment, left the Honorable Debating Hall.

He cursed himself a thousand times for his stupidity, and a thousand more times for his cowardice.