The White Mirror (29 page)

“Tomorrow the pass will be clear,” said Doso. “Your caravan, and all the other travelers, will continue away from here. I will provide whatever food and supplies are needed to facilitate a hasty departure. You understand that I do not wish to be inhospitable. But I see no other option. Tonight I will make offerings to appease the spirits and”—he looked up in the direction of the ravine—“to keep him from remaining here among us.”

Li Du spoke quietly. “Sonam was rude to you this morning.”

Doso shifted his broad shoulders. He stepped closer to Li Du, towering over him. “Sonam was a dishonorable man. It is no surprise that his end was violent. But his death has no connection to me, or to my family.”

“And Dhamo?”

For an instant Li Du thought that Doso might strike him. “Dhamo may have occupied the mountain temple,” said Doso in a strained voice. “But he was always a stranger here.” He shifted his attention to Pema. “The animals are in your care now,” he said, and without waiting for a response, strode away toward the manor gate.

Li Du watched him go. The tasseled prayer beads, black and silver, swung from his hand. Li Du's mind returned suddenly to the bridge. He pictured Dhamo, hands smeared with paint and blood, the string of prayer beads hanging on the tips of his fingers, bobbing on the water for an instant before the current pulled them away.

*   *   *

At the manor, it was Kamala who appeared to care most that death had visited the valley for a second time. She refused to participate in any discussion of how to move the body from the cave, or where to take it. Wild energy radiated from her as she gripped her children by the folds of cloth at their shoulders and napes, her fingers straining so tightly to hold them that it seemed to Li Du her whole strength was concentrated in the rigid tendons of her hands. She took them to the kitchen hearth, leaving Doso to attend to his guests.

Li Du and Hamza slipped quietly away to Sonam's room. It was furnished with a bed, heavy furs, a copper brazier, and a shrine. Sonam's saddlebags were open, their contents scattered across the floor. Li Du knelt and picked up a coin. He recalled hearing the clatter of coins on the floor that morning through the walls separating their rooms.

Hamza leaned against a wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “A painter dies with a mirror painted on his chest,” he said. “And a thief dies in a painted cave. This is too much paint. What is the meaning of it?”

“I do not know the meaning of the paint,” Li Du replied. “But I know why Sonam is dead.”

Hamza stepped forward from the wall and reached for the coin. “This is an Indian rupee,” he said. “Accepted in most of the trade route towns.” He knelt beside Li Du and set the coin down. “Why is Sonam dead?”

“Because he knew who killed Dhamo.”

Hamza raised his eyebrows. “Did he? How?”

Li Du closed his eyes, silently chastising himself. “I realized it when I saw Doso counting his prayer beads, but I should have seen it earlier. If I had, we might have stopped—” He paused. “We could have prevented his death.”

Hamza placed a hand on Li Du's shoulder. “I do not understand your words, scholar,” he said. “How did Sonam discover the identity of the killer when he spent all of his time insulting the mistress of the house, taunting his nephew, drinking his host's wine, and making crooked deals with our own caravan? He was not interested in looking for Dhamo's murderer.”

“He did not have to look. He saw the murder happen.”

Hamza picked up a leather pouch and began to loosen its ties. “But Sonam crossed the pass in the storm. By the time he arrived at the manor, Dhamo's body was already up at the temple.”

Li Du shook his head. “Sonam lied. He crossed the pass hours earlier. I propose that he was in the forest. Do you remember what we saw when we investigated the scene of Campo's fall?”

“The bridge,” said Hamza. “We could see the bridge.”

“Yes,” said Li Du. “There was a clear view of it. If Sonam was there, about to descend to the bridge himself, he would have seen Dhamo's killer. He would have seen everything. He did see everything.”

“I do not understand,” said Hamza. “How can you be sure?”

“The prayer beads,” replied Li Du. “When I spoke with Sonam about Dhamo's death, he described Dhamo's body. Most of what he said was the same as what everyone at the manor knew. The bridge, the torn robes, the paint, the wound that appeared self-inflicted … But Sonam included another detail in his description. He said that when Dhamo died, he was clutching his prayer beads.”

“Ah,” said Hamza. “A man who expects to die alone pays close attention to others who die alone. It is not surprising that Sonam mentioned the beads.”

“It
is
surprising,” said Li Du, “because Sonam received his description of the body from Doso, and Doso did not see the prayer beads. I saw them slip from Dhamo's fingers and be swept away by the current. Doso, the Chhöshe, Pema, Sera … no one who saw the body
after
we did can have known about the beads.”

A crease appeared between Hamza's brows. “Then Sonam saw the body before you did.”

Li Du nodded. “He witnessed the murder, then waited to observe what followed. He saw our caravan arrive. He saw Doso and Kalden return. He saw the body taken away. Only then did he descend to the clearing and climb the pasture to the manor.”

Hamza raised a hand. “If he saw everything that you say, he would have seen the beads fall from Dhamo's hand. He would not have been so foolish as to mention them to you.”

“No, by that time, the snow was coming down heavily. It would have been impossible for him to discern that the beads were gone.”

Hamza's hand remained raised, silencing Li Du while he considered what he had been told. “If all of that is true,” he said finally, lowering his hand, “then why did Sonam not reveal the murderer's identity?”

“Because he realized that he could benefit from what he had seen.”

Understanding dawned on Hamza's face. “He threatened the killer.”

“Yes. And I think they met in the cave this morning.”

“And instead of being paid,” said Hamza, “Sonam was killed.” He looked thoughtful. “It would have been easier and less of a risk to pay him to keep the secret.”

Li Du shook his head. “I do not think anyone would trust Sonam to keep a secret.”

Hamza raised an eyebrow. “Now you know the thoughts of a killer?”

“If I knew the killer's thoughts, I would know the killer's identity.”

Hamza reached into the leather pouch and pulled out a long necklace of coral beads. He set it on the floor, reached in again, and withdrew a diaphanous silk scarf, golden as the inside of a plum. “You remember what I said to you when you arrived? I said that a traveler usually brings gifts. Trinkets and baubles—that is what traveling traders carry. He hoped to seduce women with these treasures.”

Li Du scanned the little collection. There was something desolate about the finery. The objects were scattered across the floor, chipped pieces of a fantasy of wealth. He looked at the jeweled brooch. The depth of its blue and green stones reminded him of the colors in Pema's cave.

“Sonam boasted that he could travel from here to Lhasa in a month,” Li Du said. “He won't deliver a letter or guide anyone there again.”

Hamza's look became reflective. “I met a witch once who loved a sailor. She had no patience with the time it took for their letters to cross great distances, so she gave him an enchanted book and kept its twin. When she wrote in the pages of her book, the words appeared in the pages of his. It was a good idea, but it was not so good for him when he gave the book to—” Hamza stopped. “Wait,” he said. “Where are the receipts?”

They had examined everything in the room. “They are not here,” Li Du said.

Hamza looked puzzled. “They must be. Kalden said that Sonam hadn't given them to him yet.”

Li Du raised his eyes to the door, where a figure now stood, watching them quietly. “The papers are not here,” he said, “because someone took them.”

Hamza's back was to the door. He frowned at Li Du. “But who took them?”

Li Du lifted his eyes over Hamza's shoulder to the door. “She did.”

Hamza stood up and turned to see Sera-tsering step inside and pull the door closed behind her. She was looking at Li Du with open curiosity.

“Why did you—” Hamza started to speak, then stopped. He directed an accusatory look at Li Du. “Who is—” He stopped again and addressed Sera directly. “Who are you?”

Sera's eyes rested on Li Du. “Do you have the answer to his question?”

Li Du stood up and bowed his head in polite deference. “You are a tax official working under the auspices of the Board of Revenue, and you have come here as part of your investigation into forged tax receipts.”

Hamza looked from Li Du to Sera. “The Board of Revenue? But that is an office of the Chinese imperial—you are an official appointed by the Kangxi Emperor?”

“No, but my husband was.”

“Your husband?”

“I am the widow of the man who received that appointment.” Sera addressed Li Du. “How did you know?”

“I apologize for the intrusion,” he said, “but while you were searching my room for illegal receipts, I was searching yours for evidence that might have led me to Dhamo's murderer. I saw the seal that you carry with you—the seal of a noble family of my own empire.”

Sera's serious expression warmed into a smile. “You cannot have guessed all that about me because of a seal,” she said. “I did not find out anything about you from your room except that you value books.”

“It was not only the seal,” said Li Du. “I noticed your interest in the caravan when you came to purchase tea. Later, Yeshe mentioned to me that a tax inspector died some years ago in Bathang. And when Doso regaled us with his family history, including his ancestor who assumed responsibility for the manor and the village after her husband's death, I thought perhaps—”

Sera finished his sentence. “Perhaps there was another woman nearby who had taken up her husband's duty.”

“The pieces fit together,” said Li Du. “I was correct?”

“Yes,” Sera said. “I am from Lhasa, as I told you, but I was married to the Chinese tax official in Bathang.”

“It is not common for a woman to occupy such a position,” said Li Du.

“No,” Sera replied. “It is not. But rules are very flexible here in the borderlands. A woman who asserts herself can have more than she is commonly given reason to expect. I said that I would continue his work, and I showed myself capable of doing it. Until the ledgers began to contain discrepancies.”

“And that is when you decided to search for the solution to the problem yourself.”

“No one else could discover it. I left my secretary to run the office in Bathang, and I began to ask questions. My questions led me here.”

“A moment, please.” Hamza faced Sera. “You claim that you traveled here alone in pursuit of a criminal who had been selling falsified tax receipts to caravans. What did you plan to do? Challenge him to physical combat? Tie him up and throw him over your horse?”

Sera's face remained serious, but her eyes revealed her amusement. “I was not interested in the man who was selling the receipts—” She paused. “Until, of course, he sent two arrows in my direction.”

“It was Sonam who tried to kill you,” said Hamza.

“He was trying to frighten me,” replied Sera. “He had guessed who I was.” Sera glanced at Li Du, who nodded.

“Yes,” Li Du said. “He saw you search my room, and he knew that you were asking questions about the caravan. Experienced criminals are adept at sensing when an officer of the law is near.”

“He wanted to warn me away,” Sera said. “But whatever doubt I had about who was here to meet Kalden left me when those arrows struck the woodpile. You don't need to spend much time with a man like Sonam before you know he is the type to shoot arrows at a woman collecting firewood.”

“But I ask you again,” demanded Hamza. “What were you going to do? Why didn't you announce to the household that Sonam was a criminal?”

“Like you,” Sera said, “I did not know whom to trust. I knew that there was more happening here than petty thieving. I didn't know what else Sonam might have involved himself in.”

“So you pursued a more subtle strategy,” Li Du said.

She nodded. “As I said, I was not interested in the man selling the papers. I expect people like that to meet a violent end sooner or later.” She paused, realizing the import of her words, then went on. “I was not even interested in the caravan buying the papers. What I wanted was the name of the official who had been bribed or threatened into placing his seal on them. Yesterday, after our game at the hearth, I snuck into this room and found the papers among his possessions. I have them now, and I know that it is the official called Fang Tong in Dajianlu who sealed them. I will ensure that he is removed from his position.” She paused. “I should have guessed. My husband never liked him.”

The gaze she then turned to Li Du was clear and focused. “I did not kill Sonam. Do you know who did?”

Li Du shook his head. “No. Not yet.”

“But you intend to discover it?”

“I do.”

Accepting his answer, Sera took a breath and drew her shoulders back. “That is reassuring. But I am concerned for Lumo, who lives alone in the forest. I want to bring her here, if I can persuade her to come.”

Hamza stepped forward. “I will go with you.”

“I do not need your protection,” Sera said, and then softened. “But if the scholar can spare you, I will accept your company.”

*   *   *

The manor's dark interior remained cold, unaware that the sun had come out. But outside, the snow was releasing its grip. Icicles dripped bright tears from the overhanging eaves into the courtyard. Islands of mud and grass expanded, flecked with blue and yellow gentians, autumn's flowers.