Antonio Garrido - The Corpse Reader

“So, in your opinions, and with your long years of experience in mind, would you say that a body thrown in the canal to the north could possibly drift against the current?”

“Impossible. Even if it got snagged on something and was carried along, the sluice gates would stop it from getting very far.”

“Impossible?” repeated the emperor.

The two men looked at each other.

“Absolutely, Majesty.”

Cí turned to the emperor.

“Majesty, everyone knows Ming Academy is in the far north of the city. Xu said I pushed Kao in the canal nearest to the academy. Don’t you think it might be worth finding out what might have compelled him to lie?

Gray Fox was ashen. Xu was brought back in—he cursed the whole room and kicked and struggled until a blow from a guard’s baton brought him to his knees in front of the emperor. He grumbled and spit on the floor, casting baleful glances at Cí all the while.

“When you’re ready,” said the official to Cí.

To everyone’s surprise, instead of facing Xu, Cí turned to Gray Fox.

“Do you remember the causes of the sheriff’s death? Since the report that gained you entry to the judiciary detailed them, I imagine they are imprinted on your brain.”

Gray Fox pursed his lips and pretended to consult his notes.

“I remember perfectly well,” he said sardonically.

“And?” Cí said, as if he didn’t know already.

“He died from a rod inserted through his ear and pushed into his brain.”

“A metal rod?”

“Yes,” bristled Gray Fox.

“Like this one?” Suddenly Cí leaped at the fortune-teller and fished out a long needle that was hidden in Xu’s robes. A hush fell across the High Tribune.

Again, the color drained from Gray Fox’s face. Cí showed the needle around and, in a fury, Gray Fox excused himself from the courtroom. Cí didn’t let this knock him off course. He proceeded to accuse the fortune-teller of the murder of Sheriff Kao.

“Xu wanted the reward Kao was offering for my capture. But Kao was a wary man and would have been unlikely to hand over any money until Xu handed me right to him. I don’t know whether Xu thought Kao was trying to trick him, or if perhaps the two of them argued, but the fact is, Xu killed Kao for the money, using the same murder weapon as he always uses.” At this, he held the metal needle up to the room once more.

“Lies!” yelled Xu, which won him another blow from the guard.

“Lies, you say?” said Cí, turning to address the fortune-teller. “Witnesses have confirmed that the corpse was found near the fish market, which happens to be a stone’s throw from the houseboat you live on. As for the reward money, I wouldn’t mind betting that if His Majesty’s men were to ask in the taverns and brothels in that same area, any number of people could confirm that poor, impoverished Xu was there throwing money around in the days following Kao’s death.”

Overcome, the fortune-teller couldn’t even stammer out a defense. The look he gave the emperor asked for pity, but Ningzong was unaffected. He ordered that Xu be detained and adjourned the trial until after lunch.

When the trial resumed, Gray Fox was clearly intent on showing that he was still a worthy opponent. Feng stood alongside him, and the irony of his serene expression struck Cí even more strongly. When the emperor reentered the room, everyone bowed—everyone, that is, except for the woman who had also just entered the room. It was Blue Iris. She’d come.

Gray Fox asked permission to speak and stepped forward.

“Divine Sovereign: The fact that the despicable fortune-teller Xu tried to abuse our trust does nothing to exempt Cí of the crimes of which he is accused. On the contrary, that there is now only one murder charge against him, as I see it, clears the way for his guilt to be unveiled.” Gray Fox turned to face Cí with a wicked look in his eyes. “Clearly, the accused was hatching a diabolical plan to end Councilor Kan’s life. His idea was to dress the murder up as suicide, and he carried out the execrable plan with great meticulousness. This is the true face of Cí Song: friend to homosexuals, fugitive, murderer’s companion.”

With a discreet raising of his eyebrows, Ningzong motioned for the proceedings to continue. It was Cí’s turn to take the floor again.

“First, Your Majesty,” said Cí, coming forward and bowing, “I would like to repeat the fact that it wasn’t I who sought to work under Kan; it was under Your Highness’s orders that I joined the investigation. Now, I want to emphasize something that we see again and again in all the different legal handbooks, and that is the necessity of motive. Crimes require motives. Revenge, fits of rage, loathing, ambition—whatever it is, there has to be something that drives a man to kill.

“With this in mind, let’s think for a minute about what could have driven me to kill Kan. Let us not forget, Your Majesty had promised me a place on the judiciary if I were to solve the murders prior to Kan’s death.” Cí turned to Gray Fox. “So, I ask: Does a man who is starving chop down the only apple tree in his orchard?”

Gray Fox was completely composed, which unsettled Cí. It was Gray Fox’s turn to speak again.

“This is no place for wisecracks. You want to talk about motives? Fine, let’s talk about them. There’s actually only one piece of what Cí Song has said that is definitely true, which is the promise of a place on the judiciary if he solved the murders. So? Did you actually manage to uncover the murderer? I can’t remember having heard you talk about it.” Gray Fox’s expression was the epitome of self-satisfaction. “Revenge, loathing, yes. You refer to these things but neglect to mention they were precisely the feelings Kan stirred up in you when he threatened your beloved Professor Ming! Oh, and let’s talk about fits of rage, such as when you maimed Soft Dolphin’s poor corpse! And ambition, what about ambition? You also fail to mention the most blindingly obvious thing: that Kan’s suicide, with that rather… opportune confession note, was the only sure way—considering you had failed to actually solve the case—to win what the emperor had promised. I don’t know what everyone else here thinks, but your rather dramatic image of the orchard keeper would, I think, be more apt if we replaced the tree with a cow, and think about the starving man slaughtering it for meat rather than making do with drinking its milk.

“But anyway, since you also bring up judicial handbooks, yes, why don’t we think about something else stressed again and again in the literature when it comes to murder: opportunity. Why don’t you tell us, Cí, where you were the night Councilor Kan died?”

Cí’s heart was pounding. He glanced up at Blue Iris; that was the night they’d slept together. He knew he couldn’t mention that, but he also knew if he said he was alone in his room, neither Gray Fox nor the emperor would be satisfied.

“If you don’t mind my saying so,” Cí began, “your argument has about as much sense as a stampede of elephants.” Laughter traveled around the room. “What you neglect to mention is that Kan was both feared and disliked—everyone here knows it. There must have been dozens of people with far greater motives than those you so cheaply confer on me. Why don’t we think about this for a minute? What kind of imbecile would disclose his own crime?” Cí paused. “I’ll make it simpler for you: If I had been the murderer, why would I have been preparing to tell the emperor that Kan’s death was anything but suicide, when that would have been the perfect cover?”