relentlessness of a machine. ‘You have heard those tales? They began only this year, a few weeks after the riots. It may be that while the Emperor reigned, some order was retained and the kuei kept their distance in fear. The Tso family lives by the side of the Sea, and what they think of it, they do not say, though I admit to being most curious about it. But people disappearing—’

He paused, a cup of mild-scented chrysanthemum tea suspended in his chubby fingers, and in that stillness anger glinted suddenly in his piggy eyes. ‘That is a story that goes back twenty years. Everyone knows the Tso pimps and child-merchants buy more girls and young boys than any other family in the city. People say Madame Tso set up some kind of arrangement with brothels in other cities – that that’s where these young people disappear to. But why would a madam in Shanghai send all the way to Peking for her stock? There are poor men with daughters in the south as well as in the north. And many that the Tso buy are not pretty; the daughters of beggars and laborers, with big, ugly feet. These they can procure very cheap.’

He gulped his tea, wiped his fingers fastidiously on a napkin which bore the monogram of the Peking Club.

‘Tell about Tso.’

‘Ah.’ Wu nipped up the last bean-paste sesame-ball from the plate. ‘Madame Tso . . .’ He gazed into the shadows of the half-ruined chamber, swept clean now and tidied despite the holes in the roof. ‘Tso Shao Hua. They say these days that her father was a night-soil collector, but that wasn’t all he did. He worked for Shui Ch’ia Chu, who used to be the kuan ye – the grandfather of money – in that quarter of the city. Shao Hua married Chen, who was the son of one of Shui’s toughest enforcers. But she was the real brains of the family, and beautiful as the sky with stars. They still call the family Tso, though her sons are all actually Chens of course.’

‘What happen Chen the enforcer?’

‘The rumor is that she ate him alive for breakfast one morning.’ Wu chuckled richly. ‘Chen Chi Yi is the Number One son. He runs the brothels and the gambling, and procures guns from the army for their enforcers to use. Madame Tso ousted old Shui twenty years ago, and men you’d think would have stayed loyal to the old man went over to work for her: afraid of her, everyone says. No one in that quarter will breathe a word against her. Her sons took over Shui’s house, his rickshaws, his gambling parlors and “chicken nests” . . . They opened into specialty houses, working with people like An Lu T’ang, but even during the worst of the Boxer troubles, nobody would touch the Tso property.

‘When one of her yin mei puts an offer on a girl – like An did with that poor child Shen Mi Ching – nobody dares say no, though they know what it means. It gives An an advantage, that’s for certain: they say the Ugly Englishman saw Mi Ching at her father’s shop and asked specifically that she be brought to the Tso house for him. Shen was very poor, but not that poor.’ Wu fell silent, heavy face creased with sorrow and distaste.

‘Power come quick,’ said Asher softly. ‘Shui weak? No sons?’

‘His sons were all killed.’ Wu poured him another cup of tea. ‘Yes, power came very quickly, once Tso came along. I’d like one day to hear the true story behind it. They say she’s a witch—’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe such a thing is true. The Hao used to run things in the north end of the city, across Kuo Tzu Shih Ta Street from Shui territory. All their enforcers and pimps went over to Madame Tso within the same month. The same story with the whole area west of the Imperial Enclosure. Rumor has it she and her sons have been invited into the Golden Lakes, to visit with the President himself.’

‘When?’

‘A month ago? Two months? With the election coming up, that isn’t a surprise. All the same—’ Wu grimaced and discreetly poked among the dishes with his chopsticks, to see if a scrap of anything had been missed. ‘She isn’t a woman I’d like to see with more power. And she isn’t a woman I’d like to see getting the same kind of power – whatever it is – over President Yuan Shi-k’ai that she has over the Hao and Shui’s old gang.’

Asher thought the matter over, turning his teacup in his fingers. Remembering the beautiful Chinese woman who had come to Sir Allyn’s on the arm of President Yuan’s aide Huang Da-feng: Yuan’s go-between with the criminal bosses of the town, Hobart had said, pointing them out. The woman runs half the brothels in Peking . . . ‘What look like? Still beautiful?’

‘Going to chance the displeasure of your wife’s father?’ The dark eyes sparkled grimly. ‘Ling’s a better bargain, Mr Invisible, for all she has ugly peasant feet and will talk you to death about the Republic. Yes, Madame’s still beautiful, though she’s getting on. She’s grown a little fat, and the daylight isn’t kind to her wrinkles no matter how much raw veal and strawberries she puts on her face. One story I hear is that all those girls she has An buy, and the beggar-children who disappear, she devours. I’ve heard the stories about evil women in the past bathing in blood to retain their youth – and I certainly wouldn’t have put it past the old Empress! But it’s not her youth or beauty she retains, but her energy. Her power.’

The fat man’s voice lowered, and he leaned across the table to whisper. ‘Sometimes I wonder if she drinks their chi – their life force – the way it’s said the chiang-shi do.’

Asher said quietly, ‘Indeed?’

The chiang-shi were the spirits of the Undead – the spirits that in the west were called vampires.

EIGHTEEN

At Mingliang Village the following morning, Lydia introduced herself and explained to Dr Bauer that the University of Tokyo had hired Professor Karlebach to continue her husband’s investigation into the possibility of an atavistic tribe hiding in the Western Hills. The missionary thanked her, but though her sympathy for Lydia – in a skirted black riding-costume and a hat festooned with mourning veils instead of the jodhpurs she’d have preferred – was genuine and warm, there was reserve in her manner, almost fear.

When Lydia inquired, in her schoolgirl German, whether she might see whatever remains were left of the creature to observe if there were any cellular changes in the bone tissue, Dr Bauer replied, ‘I believe that there were. My microscope here is not powerful. I doubt that anything is left of them by this time, but you would have to inquire with Dr Chun.’

‘Dr Chun?’

‘Of the Peita University.’ Her voice was expressionless. ‘A man came here Tuesday from the office of the President – a Mr Huang Da-feng – and offered me three hundred pounds for the remains and for my notes, which he said would be turned over to Dr Chun at the University.’

‘Who is Dr Chun?’ broke in Karlebach. ‘And what does he—’

‘There is no Dr Chun at the Peita University,’ said Lydia. ‘At least, not in the Medical Faculty – is there?’ She turned back to Bauer. ‘I looked through their catalogs on the boat coming out here.’

In that same constrained tone, Dr Bauer replied, ‘Not that I know of. But naturally, I did not wish to disoblige President Yuan. He could close this mission altogether and destroy twenty years of my work here. And we stand desperately in need of money. And as no one – other than your poor husband – ever paid the slightest attention to the story of this thing in the hills, I felt . . .’

‘I don’t see that you had any choice,’ Lydia reassured her. ‘This Mr Huang—’

‘Huang Da-feng certainly has no connection with the University,’ put in Mizukami, who had stood quietly by the infirmary door while this discussion went on. ‘His title is attache to the President, but he began his career as a bully boy for one of the criminal gangs in the city. A gang which I believe contributed greatly to the President’s treasury this year.’

Dr Bauer sighed and pushed the loose strands of her graying fair hair back into their bun. ‘I have lived in China for twenty years,’ she said. ‘And I never thought I would ever have a single good thing to say about the Manchu emperors. Yet it seems to me that those who have replaced them – and everyone in the village seems to believe that it is only a matter of time before President Yuan will proclaim himself Emperor – are no better and, if possible, worse. Certainly, the men with Huang had more the air of thugs than of soldiers.’

‘Did they go up to the mine as well,’ inquired Lydia, ‘after taking the remains and your notes?’

‘They did. They hired Liao Ho as guide – and cheated him of his pay, so I’m sure he will be glad to guide you

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