Free A Deadly Injustice by Ian Morson Page B

and be destroyed .’ It was a very useful weapon in an empire ruled by bureaucracy. I turned the head of my horse back towards the winery, and told Lin I would find the prefect’s house on my own.
    When I did find the house, I could see why Li Wen-Tao chose to live where he did. The noise and bustle of the city – the cries of the pedlars and shopkeepers, the curses of the draymen and porters as they barged their way past fortune-tellers, scholars and monks blocking their way, and the warning call of the men bearing ladies in sedan chairs – all was but a distant hum. A stand of trees masked the grand-looking house from the stare of the common crowd, and the river behind it lent an air of tranquillity. I jumped from my horse and handed the reins to a fearful servant, who cowered at the sight of my whiskery face. I gave him a snarl for good measure, and stomped towards the elegant main doors. The prefect had indulged himself by having imperial dragons carved on the doors. He would have been severely punished for such presumption in the capital. Here, out in the sticks, he could get away with it. I slid the doors back and barged in, keeping to my role of demon and personal investigator to the Khan.
    In the main room of the house, a fat, middle-aged man sat like a Buddha at a table in the centre of the room. By his side sat Lin Chu-Tsai, whereas Friar Alberoni and Tadeusz Pyka had to content themselves with sitting at some distance in the furthest corner of the room. Of Gurbesu there was no evidence. The fat man gazed at me, a look of indignation forming on his face. He was pulling his embroidered robe around him, and I could see that each side of the skirt had a bai , or panel, sewn in it to add to the bulk and his importance. He didn’t really need it as he was as broad as a horse’s backside anyway. The robe was blue to signify his rank. I was pleased to let him see that my Mongol jacket was red, as was Lin’s official robe. We outranked him and he knew it. I marched over to the table and slumped to the ground in a deliberately inelegant manner. I saw the flush of contained anger in Li’s face, as I rudely reached for the porcelain jar of rice wine that stood on the table between us. Politeness and etiquette dictated that I should have waited to be offered a drink. But I was past caring about this fat prefect, and I wanted to get him flustered before I interrogated him about Jianxu. Lin, I could see out of the corner of my eyes, had a knowing smile on his face. He patted the ruffled prefect’s arm.
    â€˜Forgive the Investigator of Crimes, he is a barbarian. We are trying to train him, but he will use his own . . .’ He paused tellingly. ‘. . . brutal ways to find out the truth.’
    The disconcerted prefect’s fat, jowly face fell, and his red flush turned white with fear. He managed to gasp out a few words from his now dry mouth.
    â€˜I am sure you will see that everything here is in order. And I will cooperate fully with you.’
    I smiled coldly, knowing I might have his attention now, but that he would soon recover his composure. Then he would try to find ways of wheedling his way back into Lin’s favour. I would need other ways of dealing with him then. For now, I would enjoy his rice wine. I gulped the fiery fluid down, and dreamed of the wine I had commanded to be sent to our quarters. Even though I didn’t yet know where we were to be staying, I could lay a bet that the owner of the winery did. And the whole of the rest of Pianfu too.
    The harassed servant scurried across the courtyard in the old quarter of Yenking. He was nearly bowled over by a group of eight court officials kicking a ball. This solemn pastime was called ‘Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea’, and involved skilful passing and ball control rather than tackling and scoring. It was often impossible for the outsider to understand who was winning therefore. The servant