Strong Mystery: Murder, Mystery and Magic Books 1-3 (Steampunk Magica) (30 page)

Chapter 20

Owen stood outside in the courtyard staring up at the
sky. It was a beautiful day without a cloud in sight, far too beautiful a day
to die on, he thought resignedly
. He supposed that he could
attempt to steal away, perhaps secretly pass across the border or stowaway on a
British ship. Anything else would be too dangerous. If he did, however, he
would have to leave Jinhao behind, which wasn’t an answer that was acceptable
to him, no not in the least. And of course, any attempt to steal away by the
both of them would only double their chances of being caught. At that moment,
Jinhao came up behind him, deliberately making enough noise that he knew it was
her without having to turn around.

“Hello, Jinhao,” He greeted her wearily.

“Do you truly know who killed the boy Huang?” she asked softly.

“I haven’t the faintest clue,” Owen confessed to her.  ”Nor, it
appears, shall we have time to find out, not with this Court business convening
in just a few hours at most.”

“Perhaps we could escape beyond Lohan’s reach,” she ventured.
“We could make our way to my sister, she would take us in.”

“And become jolly pirates, singing ‘yo ho ho and a bottle of
grog’?” Owen answered this with a wry grin and a shake of his head. “No, I
don’t think that would fit either of us. Besides I was just thinking on this
very subject. Not only would we have to escape the watchful eyes of the constables,”
he nodded at the uniformed pair with their rifles across the courtyard. One of
them actually nodded back. Friendly sorts, Owen thought, far too trusting for
their jobs. “Which on the face of it would not be too difficult.” He whirled to
face her.

“But we would also have to plan on leaving behind Barton, not
to mention the redoubtable Mrs. Chin the cook.” He shook his head violently.
“No that would simply be intolerable.”

“Then what shall we do?” She asked forlornly. Owen threw up his
hands.

“Stall for time,” he said desperately. “I want you to question
everyone you can in both gangs, perhaps someone saw something.”

“Why can we not simply let Lohan kill the Austrian spy?” she
asked. “You know that Deter would gladly kill you if he could.”

“Actually, I know no such thing,” Owen answered. “He, at least,
is a professional, however inept. Even if he were so inclined, that would mean
that Huang’s killer would escape justice. I will not allow such a thing.”

“Why?” Jinhao asked.

“Because it would not be,” Owen took a deep breath before
continuing,
orderly
.”
He stomped his cane hard against the flagstones of the courtyard for emphasis.
Multi-colored sparks flew upwards from the contact. “I will not have some
upstart non-professional thinking that they can kill someone on my watch and
get away with it!”

“You mean to say that you will risk both our deaths for the
sake of your sense of order?” Jinhao said incredulously.

“Well,” Owen had the good grace to look sheepish. “Yes,” he
allowed. He turned away from her. “As I said, question as many of the
youngsters as you can. Someone must have seen something.”

“What if it was a professional?” She asked. He turned back to
her.

“What makes you say that?” Owen asked eagerly, “Something that
you have only now remarked on?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Jinhao replied. “Only if it was a
professional, she would be long gone by now.”

“Oh, and I thought that you might have something there,” Owen
said dejectedly. “You simply cannot be correct you know. Because if you are, we
are well and truly hacked.” He turned away again.

“Where are you going?” She asked to his back.

“To see a man about a horse,” Owen said without turning. “All
this green tea is an abomination to my stomach.”

Unlike the upper classes, the gangs rarely bothered with
commodes or chamber-pots. A southern wall of the courtyard seemed to work fine
for most of them. Owen stood next to one of Jimmy the Horse’s gang lads and
unlaced his breeches. The lad next to him let out a sigh.

“Now there’s a good thing,” he said. “Not like when you’re out
on lookout and have to wait.” The two of them finished their business and
turned to go.

“Say,” the ganger said with a sideways look, “Aren’t you that
Magi of Mike’s gang?”

“I am a Sorcerer it is true,” Owen allowed. The gang member
looked unimpressed.

“I heard that you are going to find the killer of Huang,” the
young man said.

“That is true,” Owen said.

“That shouldn’t be too hard, not that anyone except Jimmy will
miss him,” The ganger said. “I heard that it was that sauerkraut eater.”

“You heard incorrectly then,” Owen said. “It was not him.”

“How do you know that?” The ganger asked. “It was his fancy
fire weapon I heard.”

“Yes it was,” Owen allowed. “However consider this please. You
have just shot someone down in cold blood. You then hit yourself over the head
so that when the secret passage where you are hiding is discovered you will be
captured and accused of the crime. Not very likely,” Owen shook his head. “No,”
he continued, “someone else had to be present.”

“Also,” Owen said, “consider that you have caught the culprit
after his dastardly deed and knocked him out. Why do you not sound the alarm
and get aid?” Owen shook his head. “No the only logical answer is that the
killer found the Austrian in the passage way, knocked him out, and then killed
Huang with the Austrian’s fire pistol, leaving him to take the blame for the
murder.”

“Say that’s a pretty smart answer,” the ganger said rubbing his
chin in thought. “I hadn’t looked at it like that. Seems kind of obvious when
you put it that way. So who did kill old Huang?” Owen refrained from pointing
out that a nineteen year old male was hardly old, but imagined that it depended
on your point of view. The speaker might have been that
old
himself, it was difficult
to tell. Instead Owen decided to press on as long as the ganger was feeling so
talkative.

“That’s what I intend to find out,” Owen replied. “What were
you doing that night?”

“You don’t think I had anything to do with it, do you?” The
ganger asked clearly startled by the question. “I mean, I didn’t like Huang or
nothing, but I would hardly kill him!”

“No, no,” Owen soothed, “Nothing of the sort. I simply am
looking to find anything that you might have seen or heard that would help me
find the killer. You never know, anything might be helpful. For example,” he
asked casually, “Why did you not like Huang?”

“I was hardly alone in that,” the young man snorted. “Huang was
always after the other guys if you know what I mean. Didn’t matter if they
liked him back or not. He’d just sneer at them and pick on somebody else, no
matter what the rest of us thought. Jimmy though, wouldn’t listen when we tried
to tell him about Huang, Guess he liked having a
fire starter
in the
gang, and wouldn’t listen to nothing bad about him.” The ganger looked down at
the ground as he finished.

“I see,” said Owen slowly. “Did Huang force his . . .  attentions
on the rest of you?”

“Nah, nothing like that,” The ganger said scornfully. “He’d
have gotten a knife in the ribs some night no matter what Jimmy thought.” He
leaned in towards Owen and lowered his voice conspiratorially, “He just liked
to tease the rest of us, really mean like. Nobody liked how Huang was always
hanging on Jimmy neither. Jimmy seemed to like it though, encouraged him even.
The other guys just figured that Huang had a likin’ of Jimmy, but I knew
better.”

“Very little gets by you, I perceive,” Owen remarked.

“That’s true,” he said with pride, “You asked what I was doin’
that night. I was a lookout. Like I am most nights. Everybody in the gang knows
I got sharp eyes.”

“A lookout.” Owen echoed. “Then you are just the man I wish to
talk with.” Owen leaned towards him on his cane, matching the ganger’s
conspiratorial tone. “Did you notice anything unusual that night? Anything no
matter how small might be useful.” The ganger rubbed his face again in thought.

“No,” he said slowly. “That was the night that we had all eaten
something bad at the restaurant.” He patted his stomach. “All the lookouts had
to take extra-long breaks if you know what I mean.”

“That must have made it difficult to keep a close eye on
things,” Owen said.

“Nah, Jo directed us so that we all had over-lapping areas.
He’s smart like that.” The ganger proudly pulled out a whistle he had hung
around his neck. “It was Jimmy came up with the idea of using whistles to all
talk to each other over distances. That’s why he’s the Boss.”

“So Jo directs all the lookouts?” Owen asked.

“Yeah, he’s been doing it for some time now.”

“Did you know that Mary was coming to see Huang?” The gangers
nodded enthusiastically.

“I was facing where she came in,” he explained. “Jo whistled
that we was to let her through. You want my opinion she is the one that you
want for the killing. I never seen anyone so guilty sneaking before.” Owen
tensed upon hearing this.

“You are sure that Jo whistled that you were to let her
through?” The ganger nodded again.

“Sure I’m sure. There isn’t any way she would get through
otherwise,” he declared. “Nobody gets through us.”

“Well, the Austrian did,” Owen pointed out. The ganger’s face
drooped at this.

“Yeah, well that is true.” He said with a sigh.

“Did you know about the hidden passageways in the restaurant?”
Owen asked.

“Most of us old timers with Jimmy’s crew knew about the
passageways in the restaurant. The building was supposed to be the headquarters
of some rebel group back in the day. Place is full of them. That’s why we use
it. I think only Jimmy knows all of them being as he grew up here.” The ganger
explained. Owen smiled at him.

“Thank you. You have been more help than you might know. I am
sorry, what was your name?”

“My name is Gung,” The ganger replied looking at the ground,
suddenly shy again. Owen spied a particularly rotund individual in silk court
robes mincing his way towards them.

“My thanks again Gung,” Owen said. “I see that a court
gentleman is coming our way. Unless he has some business with you, I believe
that he likely wants to talk to me.”

“Talk to me?” Gung squeaked “Uh no, I don’t think so!” With
that Gung sprang off in the opposite direction to the portly official.

The rotund official came up to Owen, his eyes following Gung as
he sprinted away. The officials face looked as if it had swallowed a frog. He
stopped short in front of Owen and bowed as deeply as his stomach would allow.
When he came up again, his face still borne the same expression.

“I am Hu-San Fong,” he announced. “I am, I
was
that is,
the Court Prosecutor. Our Illustrious Lohan has informed me that I am now the
defender of the Austrian man Deter, and that you are the prosecutor in today’s
Court. How do you intend to proceed?” Owen rendered a bow back to him and spoke
as he came upright, his cane resting in front of him.

“I intend to use the proceedings to uncover the truth.” Owen
replied. Hu-San Fong shot his magnificent green silk cuffs before stroking his
equally magnificent black mustaches theatrically.

“An interesting choice of strategies,” the courtier purred. “Of
course, my client is innocent of the murder.”

“Of course,” Owen agreed amicably. Hu-San stopped his stroking,
his bushy eyebrows shooting skyward in surprise.

“You agree?” he asked incredulously.

“Well, yes.” Owen said. “Of course, he’s still guilty of being
an Austrian spy in Hong Kong. I understand that Lohan still intends that he
receive the death penalty.” Hu-San motioned with his hands as if to wave Owens
words away.

“That is no concern of mine,” he said easily. “If he is not
found guilty of the murder I have done my job.”

“I see,” Owen said. “Then you do not care if your client is
killed or not?”

“Why should I?” Hu-San asked. “He must be guilty of something,
else he would not stand accused, is that not so? I shall plea his innocence of
the murder based on the ancient rule that there is no confession by him to that
effect.”

“Meaning that your torturers have not had a chance to question
him you mean,” Owen said.

“Say what you will,” Hu-San said smugly. “The old ways always
work the best. All I must do is convince Lohan that he did not kill the
urchin.” He smiled at Owen. “It sounds as if you will help me with this. You
have the much more difficult task, if I may say so.”

“Are you saying that I cannot count on your help in uncovering
the murderer?” Owen asked the court official. Hu-San shook his head sadly.

“Why would you expect my aid?” He said as if to a child. “I
stand to gain nothing by aiding you.”

“Only the knowledge that you are aiding the side of justice,”
Owen retorted mildly. Hu-San tilted his head to one side and stared at Owen.

“What strange ideas you have Westerner,” he said.

“Think on it,” Owen said dryly. “You may find that what the
Sage said about the law applies here, ‘better an honest pebble than a diamond’,”
Hu-San’s face turned a dark color.

“You would dare to lecture me about the words of the great
Sage? I have spent twenty years studying his words!”

“Perhaps you should spend less time studying him and more time
thinking on what his words mean,” Owen remarked. Whatever Hu-San was going to
say was cut off by a constable in her bright uniform striding into the
courtyard.

“All hear! All hear!” she cried out in High Mandarin. “Let
those with the business before the Court of the High Lord of Hong Kong gather
near! Let those of the Court gather to attend the High Lord!”

She deliberately did not look at Owen and Hu-San as she spoke,
instead aiming her voice at the walls of the courtyard. She turned and walked
out of the door leading into the street outside. They could her repeat the cry.