the Pingkang li. During the day, the towering pavilion could have been mistaken for a temple.
A young girl, possibly ten or eleven years of age, answered the visitor’s bell. She took one look at Kaifeng and shrank back.
“I am here to speak to Lady Mingyu.”
The door shut abruptly and he heard the girl calling for her headmistress. Apparently the young hostess-in-training needed more training.
When the door opened this time, he was met by a middle-aged lady dressed opulently in silk. Even at this early hour, her hair was elegantly coiled and pinned and her bearing had a regal air to it.
“Constable Wu,” she remarked with a haughty tilt of her head.
Kaifeng bowed slightly at the waist. “Madame Sun.”
He was well-known at the Lotus and many of the houses of the Pingkang li due to that murder investigation a year earlier. From the way the headmistress’s eyes narrowed on him, Kaifeng had not emerged favorably from the incident.
“It’s quite early,” she said.
“Indeed.”
“A little early for visitors.”
He stood his ground. “This is not a visit.”
She pursed her lips together, her jaw hardening. “Have you considered, Wu Kaifeng, that your conduct might be considered at times impolite?”
He considered it now. “Perhaps,” he concluded. “I must speak with Lady Mingyu. If you please, Madame.”
He added the last part for politeness.
“Let him in, Mother,” Mingyu said with a sigh. She appeared in the entrance hall behind her headmistress. “I don’t want the constable to think that we have anything to hide.”
Kaifeng raised his eyebrows at that. He was fully aware of what tricks these women were capable of.
Madame Sun stepped aside as Mingyu approached. This morning, her robe was plain and muted in color, which oddly accentuated rather than decreased her beauty. Her hair was pulled back with wooden combs, and then allowed to fall free over one shoulder. Without embellishment, Mingyu’s appearance took on a sense of clarity and purity. Flesh of ice and bones of jade.
“Would you like tea?” She directed him toward the parlor with a practiced sweep of her arm.
He remained at the door. “There is no need for such courtesies. I am returning to General Deng’s private residence for a closer inspection. If you would come with me.”
A look of unease rippled beneath Mingyu’s serene expression and Madame Sun bristled.
“I don’t see why you need Mingyu to perform your duties, Constable.”
Mingyu raised a hand to silence her headmistress. “General Deng Zhi was very generous to us, Mother. Isn’t it only right that we help Constable Wu in any way we can to lay the general to rest?”
Kaifeng didn’t know if her words were for Madame Sun’s benefit or his, but the headmistress was unconvinced.
“We have a reputation to maintain,” she countered. “There are enough rumors without you being dragged around the city by a demon like him.”
Mingyu leaned toward him in a conspiratorial gesture. Over her shoulder, Madame Sun continued to glare in disapproval.
“Constable, if you would allow me to meet you at the house?” Mingyu suggested softly. “Madame is very particular who I am seen in public with.”
Her hair smelled faintly of jasmine and the scent of it curled around him, touching his deepest desires. Lady Mingyu was skilled at this game of courtship. He wanted to tell her that it was wasted on him, but his pulse jumped at her nearness.
“Do not be long,” he told her gruffly.
Mingyu met his gaze and he could see dark shadows beneath her eyes. It was said Mingyu could command men with a single, sensuous look, but this morning she appeared exhausted.
“I’ll be waiting,” he said, attempting a gentler tone.
“Thank you for understanding, Constable.”
The moment the door closed, Kaifeng realized the courtesan was clever enough to turn even a hint of vulnerability into an advantage. It was very possible that Mingyu had only surrendered herself to him to create an illusion. She wanted him to believe that she was at his mercy.
CHAPTER SIX
MINGYU HADN’T SLEPT. She couldn’t close her eyes without seeing the defiled body, the blood. It had been so long since she had seen Deng that she could hardly remember his face. As if he’d always been headless.
One of her courtesan-sisters from the Lotus accompanied her that morning. Ziyi had been procured a few years after Mingyu had arrived at the Lotus. They proceeded quietly through the streets side by side, but when they reached the house, the younger courtesan took one look at the yellow notice pasted over the gate and refused to enter.
A crime has occurred at this place, the notice proclaimed. All are forbidden entry by order of the magistrate.
Pushing the gate open, Mingyu stepped inside alone. Over the years she had collected many memories of this courtyard and the rooms surrounding it, but those moments were now destroyed by one act of violence.
Mingyu closed her eyes and prayed she had somehow been mistaken and she would see the general before her once more. Their association wasn’t a warm one, but it was one she was familiar with. One she could control.
A shadow passed over her, like a cloud covering the sun. She could sense the change in the air even with her eyes closed.
When she opened her eyes, the man standing before her wasn’t Deng, but Constable Wu.
“It wasn’t a dream,” he told her.
Wu was dressed in his black uniform and loomed before her like a dark tower. His features were harsh with little to smooth out the rough edges, the hard cut of his chin, the unforgiving shape of his mouth that seemed forever locked in a grim line. Yet something about him compelled her. Whenever he was near, it was impossible for her to look away. There was so much more to him than what could be seen on the surface. Wu’s tone was gentle and his eyes, though not kind, were far from cold.
She hadn’t shed a tear for her former lover, but with Wu’s simple remark, his closeness, how his shadow seemed to hold her steady, Mingyu felt her eyes welling up. She took a deep breath and forced the emotion back.
“What is it that you needed from me?” she asked.
The moment broke between them. It had been as tenuous as a spider’s web and just as invisible, except in the right light.
“You mentioned that General Deng often met with you here.”
He stepped aside to allow her into the courtyard and Mingyu breathed a bit easier now that she was no longer facing him.
“The general would host meetings here when he required more privacy than a banquet hall could offer.”
“Deng Zhi also maintained a home in the northern part of the city.”
She nodded. “The Deng family mansion.”
“Yet he spends most of his time outside the capital.”
“Most powerful officials keep honorary residences here. It’s a sign of the Emperor’s favor,” she explained. “Deng enjoyed the previous Emperor’s favor, at least. Do you know of his history?”
Wu glanced down at her, his expression neither confirming nor denying her question. She had to remember that he was new to Changan. Furthermore, he was the magistrate’s hired hand and locked out of the sort of conversation a courtesan could easily overhear. Men of high rank liked to talk.
“The