lover. Or that her life means nothing to the magistrate or his superiors. All you care about is finding the truth.”
“If you’re looking for protection, you need someone more powerful than I,” he warned her.
Her chest squeezed tight. “There is no one else.”
“That is unfortunate.”
He regarded her impassively, his face a mask. If there was any hint of kindness earlier, it was long gone. She pushed the door open, eager to escape. Part of her envied Wu Kaifeng and his unyielding approach. It must be freeing to walk through this world and feel nothing.
CHAPTER FIVE
GENERAL DENG’S BODY was brought to the yamen and laid out on a long table in one of the storerooms. His embroidered robe and jade belt had been carefully removed and set aside while the corpse, or what remained of it, was washed and the neck bound with cloth. The doors and windows were propped open for additional light while Kaifeng created a charcoal sketch of the body. He observed the tone and rigidity of the muscles, the condition of the hands and feet, the appearance of the skin. Each detail was noted meticulously beside the drawings.
“Signs of poisoning can be detected in the skin beneath the nails as well as the swelling of the tongue and discoloration in the eyes,” Old Guo, his foster father, had told him.
The tongue and eyes weren’t available for inspection, but the nails were. They appeared a normal pallor given a person who had been dead for half the day.
There were no marks on the hands or arms, indicating that the general hadn’t tried to defend himself. It was possible Deng had been drugged or otherwise distracted. Or he was caught unaware, which meant he knew and trusted his killer.
Kaifeng completed a set of sketches of the corpse from different angles. Magistrate Li arrived just as he prepared to unwind the bandages at the neck.
Li Yen stopped short at the side of the long table, staring down at the empty space where there should have been a head. The young magistrate swallowed with some difficulty and fought to regain his composure.
“This is believed to be General Deng Zhi,” Kaifeng reported.
“The military governor of Shannanxi circuit,” Li muttered.
“I would have notified you sooner, but you weren’t at the tribunal this morning.”
“I was called away on an official matter,” he said with an impatient wave. “What is the progress so far?”
“The body was found at his private residence in the Chongren ward. I have a team of our constables searching the surrounding area to hunt for the head as well as possible suspects. A message has been sent to the Deng family mansion. I plan to question the household this afternoon.”
Li shook his head regretfully. “Constable Wu, there are certain formalities that should—no, that must be observed when a man of this stature is involved.”
“Time is of the utmost importance.”
“I understand, but Deng Zhi was a military official of the first rank. We can’t intrude upon his family without warning. And consider the rumors that will sprout up. This must be handled with some finesse.”
“Witnesses and anyone involved must be questioned immediately. You know this.”
Not only was it the magistrate’s duty to act swiftly, it was also when they were most likely to meet with success.
“We will certainly question everyone,” Li agreed. “But with our office under scrutiny, we must proceed carefully and show proper respect. I shall personally send out the proper condolences to the family and arrange a meeting at an appropriate time. This news will reach the Emperor’s ears, if it hasn’t already.”
Kaifeng didn’t like it at all, but Magistrate Li was his superior. He stared down at the lifeless figure. It cared nothing for respect or propriety. A body was a body. Upon death, putrefaction and decay set in. Time washed away all wrongs.
“I want to be present at the questioning.”
“That can be arranged, but you must be careful of what you say, Wu.”
“I will make an effort.”
With that, Kaifeng returned his attention to the examination of the corpse.
The body hadn’t yet grown stiff when Kaifeng arrived, which meant that the killing blow had been dealt not too long before. Kaifeng was able to have the body transported before the limbs locked tight.
He started unwrapping the cloth bundled around the neck when he realized that Li Yen was still beside him, looking on with morbid interest.
The inner layer of wrappings was soaked through with blood. Kaifeng pulled the last of the bandages away to reveal what remained of the neck. A butcher shop stench permeated the storeroom and Li pressed his sleeve over his nose.
“Clean cut,” Kaifeng announced, inspecting the edges of the wound. If he had to guess, he would say with a single blow, but he didn’t like to guess.
“I witnessed the Market Commissioner’s execution earlier this year,” Li murmured. “It was the first time I’d seen a beheading. The first time I sentenced a man to be killed in such a way.”
“The shock will dull with time,” Kaifeng assured, though he wasn’t certain it was true. Some men never hardened to the sight of death. Others, such as himself, were never truly shaken by it.
“I will leave you to the examination,” the magistrate choked out. “We will talk later.”
Li ducked away quickly, the back of his hand pressed over his mouth.
Kaifeng had come to the realization long ago that his responses were not typical. He didn’t seem to react as others did. Death didn’t sicken his stomach or make his muscles seize up in fear. Of all the times he had encountered death, only once had it truly upset him.
Sharpening the charcoal stick, Kaifeng began a sketch showing the wound. He noted the entry point of the blade and the angle of the blow in his journal.
Old Guo had tried to school him on the intricate details of medicine: pressure points, herbal remedies, the balance of qi and the elements. Kaifeng had never grasped the more ephemeral concepts, but certain tangible lessons stayed with him. He knew the anatomy of the body, where the vital organs were located and how to detect a fatal wound. He knew how long specific injuries took to heal, which blows were fatal and what sort of marks they left behind.
Despite this training, Kaifeng could never be a physician. Diagnosis was the art of reading someone’s pulse and listening to their breath. It was focused on prediction and intuition. He was never skilled at such guesswork or the art of interacting with others. Autopsy was another matter. It was focused on finding the answer to a foregone conclusion and there were only so many ways to die.
Kaifeng completed his final observations and then wrapped the body in linen to be returned to the family. He didn’t have high hopes of recovering the head. Whoever had killed the general wished to do more than take Deng’s life.
Beheading was a punishment reserved for the worst of criminals, for traitors and usurpers. The killer meant to defile his body and condemn his spirit in the afterlife. Or perhaps the killer had taken his head for himself. As a trophy from a conquered enemy.
* * *
THE MAGISTRATE’S OFFICE managed to keep the rumors contained over the next day or so, but stories began to surface throughout the quarter. Though it was taboo to speak of death, General Deng was a high-ranking official and anything involving Lady Mingyu attracted attention high and low.
Kaifeng headed into the entertainment quarter early in the morning. The Three Lanes lay quiet as the inhabitants of the pleasure houses slept off the previous night’s festivities.
The notorious Lotus Palace was distinguished