Precious Dragon Page 15

  “And what did they look like?”

  “The two blokes were in black, shadow-wear. But the other one—maybe a woman, I told you, I don’t know for sure—was in red, from head to foot.”

  Zhu Irzh, who had been listening intently, perked up at this.

  “Red? A lot of people at the Min of Lust like to wear red. Lucky colour, you see.”

  Chen decided not to investigate the implications of that last sentence. “Ministry of Lust?” Interesting. Throughout their trip, the twin threads of the Ministries of War and Lust had been interweaving. He turned to the informer.

  “You’re sure about this, are you?” One could hardly chastise a denizen of Hell for lying, but at the same time, one had to make sure. Chen took out his rosary and flicked it around the demon’s reversed head like a boomerang. It shot back into his hand, leaving a scarlet flame in its wake, slowly fading. The informer gave a cry of pained outrage. But he had been telling the truth.

  “Sorry,” Chen said with a shrug. “You never know.”

  “Quite right, too,” Zhu Irzh remarked. He rose from the seat in which he had been lounging and grasped the informer by the front of his robe. “Excuse me. I just want to try something.” He spoke a word that made both Chen and the informer flinch. Fascinated, Chen watched as words tumbled out of the informer’s mouth, spiky ideograms bursting like red leaves in the air. As they began to disappear, a picture formed instead, tiny and perfect as if unreeling onto a screen. Miss Qi, backed against a wall with the midnight sky of Hell far above her, fighting grimly. One of the shadow-forms went down, but the others—one black, one dressed in bloody red—stepped up behind her and threw a cloth like a fragile web over her head. It glowed, briefly, and Miss Qi sank to the floor. The two demons in black, moving with a curious jerkiness, picked her up by the head and the feet and ran with her down the alleyway, followed by the lithe shape in red. Then they were gone and the image glowed once, searingly bright, then faded, leaving a little glowing coal which fell through the air into Zhu Irzh’s outstretched hand.

  “Impressive,” Chen said. He knew Zhu Irzh had magical abilities, but he did not often see them demonstrated: the demon preferred to rely on his sword.

  “Thanks.” Zhu Irzh gave a modest shrug. “I had to wait until he’d spoken and you’d proved that he was speaking the truth. I can’t do that on Earth, in case you’re wondering. Too many restrictions on what I can and can’t do. Here, it’s a bit easier.”

  Chen nodded. It was the same for him, down in Hell.

  “Can I go now?” the informer spoke with the truculence of fright.

  “Yes. But not before giving us your name and your address.”

  The demon did so, with a very poor grace, then gathered what dignity he could and stalked off into the depths of the hotel. Chen was not confident that he’d been telling the truth this time.

  “Well,” Chen said with a sigh, “I suppose we’re a bit further along. We’ve seen who took her, even if we’re not sure where they come from.”

  “I didn’t want to say so in front of our friend, but there was something familiar about that figure in red.”

  “Was it female, do you think?” Chen had been unable to tell although there had been a supple litheness about the red-clad figure­ that suggested that the informer had been right.

  “I don’t know. I think so.”

  “And do you still think that they were from the Ministry of Lust?”

  “I don’t know, but we can find out,” the demon said. “Follow me.”

  Chen went with him to the room that had been Miss Qi’s. He was at once praying that Zhu Irzh was right and hoping that he was wrong: he did not want to think of the pure Miss Qi in the clammy collective hands of the Ministry of Lust, but at the same time, they needed to know where she had been taken.

  “Right,” Zhu Irzh said. He took the coal from his pocket and placed it on the table. Then he extracted a small feng shui compass from his pocket and held it over the coal, which began to glow and expand. Once again, Chen saw the scene unfold in the air before him: Miss Qi fighting, being overcome and carried limply away. The needles of the compass were swinging wildly, veering around the metal surface.

  “Someone’s putting a block on this,” Zhu Irzh said, and grinned a wolfish grin. He blew on the compass, a fiery breath that sent a heatwave out into the air and caused the image to shimmer. The edges of the image shrivelled, like a piece of paper held over a flame.

  “This should get rid of the block,” the demon said, as burning fragments spiralled down through the air and the image seemed to harden and grow clearer. The compass needle stopped its erratic wandering and grew still, pointing east. Chen went to the window, pushed aside the curtains. The Ministry of Lust stood outlined against a reddening sky, a bulbous wart against the horizon of Hell.

  “Looks like you’re right,” Chen said. He drew the curtains closed, but not before he had, once more, glimpsed a shadowy shape disappearing back into the bushes.

  “Zhu Irzh!”

  “What?”

  “There’s someone down there,” Chen said.

  The demon squinted into the darkness. “I can’t see anyone.”

  “I’m sure of it. I saw someone last night, too.”

  Zhu Irzh frowned. “Maybe we should go down and check.”

  They went back down to the lobby and the demon sidled out onto the steps, motioning for Chen to stay back. A moment later, he reappeared.

  “Well?” Chen asked.

  “If there was anyone there, they’re not there now. Unless you wanted to search the gardens?”

  Chen shook his head. “No, not with Miss Qi missing. We know where she is. I’d bet that the Min of Lust has sent someone to spy on you and me, though.”

  “They’d be pretty incompetent if they didn’t,” Zhu Irzh said.

  23

  Mrs Pa took a look around the living room and sighed. That would have to do. The polished surface of the dining table gleamed and the windows were so clear that one might have thought that there was no glass in them at all. The deep-pile cream carpet was spotless and all the silverware mirrored the light and sent pale reflections dancing out across the walls.

  Mrs Pa felt a modest pride in her diligence as a cleaner. It would not do to lose humility, but on the other hand, she was good at her job. A pity that this was not her own home, prepared for the use of her own family, but then you had to be thankful for what you had. And she was very thankful indeed for Precious Dragon, last seen sitting placidly on the deck of the houseboat belonging to Inspector Chen and Inari, sucking his pearl and guarded by the badger. Mrs Pa felt that Precious Dragon was as safe as he could be at present and this had allowed her to get on and do a good job on the Pang’s living room after what appeared to have been a fairly riotous party.

  Some of the things Mrs Pa had found in the living room had been … surprising. She had put them all in a plastic bag and been thankful that she was wearing rubber gloves.

  So much for the living room, anyway. Now, she planned to turn her attention to the three bedrooms and the bathroom. This took a further two hours and was even more distasteful, especially the thing that she found under the bed. She didn’t even know what it was. It looked as though it had been organic. It looked like a lump of ancient meat, about the size of a human head, but green and fluffy. She scoured the bathroom, which was filthy, and cleaned all the traces of white powder from the black marble surfaces. Nasty stuff. Inspector Chen might be interested in some of the things that she had found, but then again, there was the question of her employer’s privacy: Mrs Pa was a strong believer in minding her own business.

  At last the house was clean from ceiling to floor and Mrs Pa felt a great sense of satisfaction at what she had achieved. Making order out of chaos, that was a wonderful thing to be able to do, even if it was something as small as washing up. She peeled off the rubber gloves, put all the cleaning materials tidily away beneath the sink and wrote down her hours for Mrs Pang on a
piece of paper. Mrs Pang might have some very odd parties but she paid her bills on time and Mrs Pa would receive the money next week when she called again. She’d already collected last week’s wages. It was good to be working again, to feel that she was helping not only herself, but her grandson and Mai.

  She walked out into the steamy afternoon and waited for the downtown tram. It was now about half past five, with her shift timed to end shortly before Mrs Pang returned home from work. The house was high in the foothills, with a faint breeze from the sea adding thousands of dollars to even the most average property, and from the vantage point of the tram stop she could see out across the whole city, to the harbour where her own little shack stood and where Precious Dragon sat upon the deck of a boat, and beyond to the shadowy blue humps of the islands. From here, with the sound of the downtown traffic muted and the lush vegetation swaying in the sea breeze, Singapore Three might almost be a pleasant place to live.

  Almost.

  The tram arrived, only a few minutes late, and Mrs Pa squeezed her way on. All the way down to the city she thought about what she might buy Precious Dragon as a treat and when she eventually got off the bus, she found a bakery near the entrance to the harbour and bought everyone a steamed bean bun. She could afford it now, and Inari deserved something for her kindness. She even bought one for the badger, though she wasn’t sure whether this was really appropriate. But she did not want to leave him out. Then she walked in the evening sunshine to the walkway and out across the decks of the boats. The Chens’ houseboat was moored close to shore at the moment, the result—so Inari had informed her, of a recent typhoon warning—and one reached it by stepping precariously across the decks of other moored craft. Mrs Pa wondered whether the Chen’s neighbours knew about Inari’s demonic origins: they must see her at fairly close range. But perhaps the sunglasses and the hat were enough. It seemed quiet enough, anyway: there was no one about. Mrs Pa climbed the steps onto the main deck of the houseboat and called out, “It’s only me! I’m back.”

  There was no reply. Perhaps they were around the other side. Mrs Pa walked around the deck, but there was no one sitting on the bench. She began to feel uneasy. She knocked cautiously on the door that led to the inside of the houseboat, but again, there was no answer. Mrs Pa opened the door and went down the narrow stairs, finding herself in a long room decorated with batik images of waterbirds and boats. It was a lovely, calm place, the floorboards scoured and sanded until they were almost white, and everything was in tranquil shades of blue and green. It was a world away from the vulgar opulence of the Pang’s living room and yet its emptiness was not having a calming effect on Mrs Pa: the reverse, in fact.

  “Precious Dragon?”

  A bedroom, curtained off from the main room, revealed nothing except a stack of paperback books on both sides of the bed. A small bathroom was equally tidy, but bare. Mrs Pa found that her hands were starting to shake as she replaced the bedroom curtain; she felt an overwhelming sense of dread, a black cloud swimming through the quiet hot air and enveloping her in its shadows.

  She’d felt so strongly that she could trust Inari. Now, she wondered how she could have been so stupid. She didn’t even have real proof that the demon woman was Chen’s wife: she could easily have stolen a photograph of the detective. Precious Dragon had seemed to trust her, too, but despite everything, he was still a small child and maybe he had made a mistake. The blackness was churning her sight. She sat down heavily on the couch, still clutching the bag of buns.

  “They are not here,” said a voice like earth. Mrs Pa leaped, nearly dropping the bag. She looked down to see the badger staring up at her. The black and white head was sleek and damp, as if the badger had been swimming. The badger’s eyes were as black and opaque as those of a skull.

  “Where are they?” Mrs Pa faltered. With a crossness born of fright, she repeated, “Where’s my grandson?”

  “They are not here,” the badger repeated. “They are close by. We had to leave this place.”

  “Why? Inari told me that she wasn’t planning to take Precious Dragon anywhere.”

  “An assassin came,” the badger said.

  “What?” Mrs Pa’s heart sank in dismay. “Oh no. Like the thing the other night?”

  “Perhaps. This thing was not human, but not a demon either: we do not know what it was. It was fierce and fast. I bit it in the leg.” The badger’s eyes glittered in what might have been satisfaction. “It fell into the harbour and why, then it proved it could not swim. It sank like a stone. We waited, but it did not come back. But where there was one, there will be others, and so Inari has taken your grandson into her keeping and is hiding nearby. We need to go back to the shore.”

  “What do we do then?” Mrs Pa asked. She would do anything to keep Precious Dragon safe, but her age weighed down on her, pressing. If only she was younger …

  “That is for my mistress to say. We are to head for the trees that line the shore. She will see us coming. Carry me, please.”

  It was not a suggestion. Mrs Pa was about to protest that she couldn’t bend down and pick up a creature as heavy as the badger, but then there was a dark sparkle in the air and she blinked. The badger was no longer standing at her feet. Instead, a large and somewhat battered iron kettle stood there instead.

  “Well,” Mrs Pa said aloud. “That was a surprise.”

  She picked up the kettle gingerly by its handle and carried it up the stairs to the deck. She was apprehensive, but all was quiet. With the buns in one hand and the badger tea kettle in the other, Mrs Pa clambered back over the decks to the shore, and whatever might be waiting there.

  24

  Chen tried to snatch an hour of sleep, but the dreams kept chasing themselves through his head, an endless, wearying round of Zhu Irzh, his mother, Daisy, Miss Qi, and various Ministers, all running in and out of a vast mansion like some kind of operatic farce. He felt more exhausted when he actually awoke, Chen thought, than if he’d not slept at all. He went into the little en suite bathroom and splashed rusty water over his face. It did not help. Then he went next door and knocked.

  Zhu Irzh took several minutes to answer and when he did, he looked as fatigued as Chen felt.

  “Couldn’t sleep a wink,” he said in answer to Chen’s enquiry. “Kept thinking about things, and I can’t help feeling that something’s getting at me.”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me,” Chen said. “What kind of something?”

  “That’s just it, I don’t know. I kept thinking there was someone in the room, that I was being watched. I even got up and checked behind the curtains and under the bed like a kid, but there was no one there. It’s just paranoia. Probably seeing my family has done it.”

  “We’ve got to focus on finding Miss Qi,” Chen said, although he was thinking of the thing in the garden, on the previous nights. He was certain they were being watched and he knew that Zhu Irzh would agree. Then a thought struck him and he wondered that he hadn’t considered it before; he was not used to being in Hell on legitimate non-crime-related business, that was the problem. “We’d better let the Ministry of War know what’s happened. They’ve probably got something planned for us today.”

  “I’d forgotten about the Ministry of War,” Zhu Irzh said, and sighed. “Believe it or not.”

  The Ministry of War, however, had not forgotten them. When Chen and Zhu Irzh went downstairs, they found a bright and cheerful Underling No waiting in the hall, perky in her stiff leather armour.

  “Inspector! Seneschal! Is Miss Qi not with you?”

  “No, she’s not,” Chen said grimly, and explained what had occurred.

  Underling No appeared genuinely dismayed. If Zhu Irzh was wrong and it was not the Ministry of Lust who were behind Miss Qi’s abduction, then Chen seriously doubted that Underling No had anything to do with it. Either that or she was an excellent actress: she was a demon, after all. He thought of that lithe figure in red: could it be? But Underling No seemed too stocky, too solid, although it wa
s difficult to tell under all that ornate armour.

  “But this is appalling!” Underling No exclaimed. “And worse, it is an insult to us. The Lesser Lord must be told immediately. The Minister must also know.” She raised her wrist to her mouth. A metal frog was inlaid in the cuff of her armour, open-mouthed. Underling No spoke briefly into it, using some manner of code. A moment later, a voice came out of the mouth of the frog.

  “Report to the Ministry immediately. Bring our guests with you.”

  Chen had the sensation of being caught up in events and swept along, and to his mild surprise, this was not displeasing. Before, on his visits to Hell, he had grown used to acting alone, apart from Zhu Irzh and whoever else had been along for the ride. But their power had always been limited: solo battles against supernatural might. Now, with the Ministry of War seemingly eager to become involved, Chen felt that he actually had a measure of support.

  Best not to let yourself become too trusting, though. This was still Hell.

  At the Ministry of War, battle stations appeared to be well underway. The immense iron doors swung open as Underling No’s carriage clattered up to it, the hooves of the deer striking sparks from the stone. The carriage shot straight up the steps and through the doors into the atrium, where the Lesser Lord was waiting, barking orders amidst a milling crowd of warriors. He looked even more bristling than before; layers seemed to have been added to his already decorative armour.

  “Inspector, Seneschal. I understand we have a problem.”

  “Miss Qi is missing, Lesser Lord,” Chen told him. “She was taken from our hotel last night, as we were returning from Zhu Irzh’s family gathering. There are indications that the Ministry of Lust is behind the kidnapping.”

  “I’ll show you,” Zhu Irzh said. “We’ve got a recording.”

  “Not here,” the Lesser Lord said quickly. “In my office.”

  He ushered them upstairs and Zhu Irzh took the coal from his pocket and activated it. The Lesser Lord and Underling No watched in silence as Miss Qi was, once again, stolen away.