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Twelve

Chen, Zhu Irzh and the ghost surfaced in a street that Chen did not immediately recognize. He stood taking deep breaths of comparatively fresh air and glanced around him. His trouser legs were sodden, and clung unpleasantly to his shins. He did not dare look down at his shoes. The street was narrow: the usual welter of machine shops and cafés, all silent under the moon, their facades hidden behind steel shutters. Turning, Chen glimpsed a peaked roof and realized where they were. They were standing at the back of Kuan Yin's second temple, in Xiangfan below the Garden District.

"Well," the demon said softly.

"You came here? Through the temple?" Chen asked, nonplussed. The sudden sensation of betrayal rose in his throat, though he knew perfectly well that the temples were gates between the worlds. The demon gave a fluid shrug.

"It's as good a place as any other. Besides, it's not far from where I live, in my world. What's it to you?"

"Kuan Yin is my patron."

"Mmm." Zhu Irzh murmured in surprise. A flicker of unease crossed his face. Surely, Chen thought, surely the goddess will not let him steal Pearl's soul back to Hell from her own precincts? The same thought had evidently crossed the demon's mind, too. He adjusted the cuffs of his silk coat with some semblance of embarrassment. Thunder cracked in the distance and heavy drops of rain began to drum on the corrugated iron roofs around them. Zhu Irzh's head snapped back.

"Rain," he said, dismayed. A single droplet fell from the heavens and streaked Zhu Irzh's cheek like a tear. The demon hissed in pain and clapped a hand to his face.

"I suggest we get out of the wet," Chen said, silently thanking the goddess that Zhu Irzh was clearly not of the same storm-loving lineage as Inari. He took the demon's arm and drew him aside. "You want to talk to Pearl, don't you? Well, so do I. And she'll feel safer in the temple."

Ducking beneath an awning, Zhu Irzh said, "Detective Inspector, you know that if it were up to me, I'd be perfectly content for you to put Pearl Tang on the next Celestial boat and that would be that. But I have my orders."

"Who's your superior?"

"Supreme Seneschal Yhu."

"Perhaps if I spoke to him, explained the situation—"

"No!" the demon said hastily. "That is, there are political complications."

"There usually are. Look. It's going to pour in a minute. Let's at least get out of the rain and have a chat with this unfortunate spirit."

Zhu Irzh bolted towards the temple with his coat held over his head. The rain was driving hard now, but at least it had the advantage of cleaning Chen's trousers. The thought of turning up at his goddess' temple reeking of the city sewers had not been an appealing one. As always, the doors were open, symbolizing Kuan Yin's permanent openness to those who suffered. No one was about, save for a large and melancholy frog sitting in the middle of the courtyard. Chen led the ghost to the main temple and opened the door.

Inside, the temple was silent. Two guardian spirits, represented in stone, stood by the entrance. Chen lit a taper and their faces flared into sudden nightmare prominence. The ghost gave a small, muffled cry. Chen found three kneeling-mats and sat down on one of them.

"Now," he said, as gently as he could, to the ghost. "Do you understand what I'm saying?" The ghost stared at him in silent incomprehension. "Can you understand me? Can you speak?"

"It might be a language problem," Zhu Irzh suggested. "Sometimes they lose the language of life after they've crossed over. You speak Gweilin, don't you, Chen?"

"It's a possibility she might have lost her Cantonese. That's usually a result of death caused from head injury, isn't it? Well, we'll try."

He repeated his questions in Gweilin and a spark of understanding appeared in the ghost's white eyes.

"Can you tell me anything at all?" Chen said.

The demon leaned across and said in fluent, rasping Gweilin, "Listen, Pearl. You're dead, okay? Either your dad had you murdered or did it himself. Then he arranged for you to be sent to Hell, but brought you back again. Why?"

The ghost gaped at him. Chen snapped, "Don't you think she's suffered enough?"

Zhu Irzh spread his hands. "She'll have to face facts sooner or later."

In a high, wondering voice the ghost said, "He killed me because I found out about the others. He had them killed, too, because the Xi Guan told him to."

Chen frowned. "What's the Xi Guan?"

"I don't know."

"No use looking at me," Zhu Irzh said, in response to Chen's questioning glance. "It's just a title. It means 'The Pre-Eminent.' "

"Where did you hear the word?" Chen asked the ghost.

"My dad." She twisted her hands. "I knew a lot about what my dad was doing. I used to go through his stuff in the study when he was out and no one was around. I knew he signed a bargain with the Ministry of Wealth, long ago, and that's why we were rich. But lately, over the last year or so, he started to get angry. His investments weren't doing so well—he hadn't put any money into bioweb technology because he thought it was a fad, but then it got really popular and he kept saying the Ministry of Wealth had cheated him, they should have told him, and he was going to look for someone else to help him. Then one night, very late, a man came to the house. I—I'd gone out, by myself, to see someone—I was coming back through my bedroom window when I saw the man. I couldn't see him very clearly, he was wearing a hood, but he stank. He smelled like something that had gone rotten, and he moved in a funny way. I didn't stick around, I went back into my bedroom. After that, things got a bit better and dad seemed to calm down. But then—then all my friends started dying, we all had problems—they said it was anorexia. And I just got depressed. And one night I got so hungry I couldn't stand it. I went downstairs to the kitchen. Dad was in his study, on the phone. He sounded tense, like he did when he was pretending not to be angry. He said, 'I've done everything the Xi Guan asked me to do. Do you realize the danger I've put myself in over these deaths? Seven virgin souls for your experiments—that's what the Xi Guan wanted and that's what you got. I've kept my part of the bargain. Now it's your turn.'

"He hung up and he was coming out of the room, so I turned to run, but I—I hadn't eaten anything that day, and I caught my foot on the rug and fell. He grabbed me just as I was getting up. 'What did you hear?' he shouted. 'What did you hear?' I told him I hadn't heard anything, but he knew I was lying. He pulled me up by my nightdress and took me into the study. He took something out of the desk—I don't know what it was. It moved. It was like a lump of flesh, a big shrimp. And he forced it into my mouth—" the ghost's voice wavered "—so that I couldn't speak or breathe properly, and then he made me go back upstairs. He made me lie down on the bed and then he just—he just sat there, looking at me. Watching me choke. And he kept saying something—a name, I don't remember, and something came through the wall and stood by the bed. The back of my head hurt and it got worse and then. . . And then the person by the bed leaned over me, and I heard my father say, 'Why is this so important?' and the person was saying something, and all at once I knew why my father was doing these things, but it was too late."

Chen was watching her closely. He said, "And why was it so important, Pearl? What was he doing?"

Pearl's spectral face creased in concentration, but then she said, "It's no use. It's gone. I can't remember. I'm sorry."

"All right. What happened then?"

"It was at the funeral, I think—I could see my mother. I tried to talk to her, to tell them what he'd done, but no one could see me. It was as though they were all behind glass. And then it all went blank and the next thing I remember is someone putting me on a boat. Next thing I knew, I was in Hell. They put me in the brothel with the other girls, we saw clients. . . and one of them worked for the Ministry of Wealth. I thought, if the First Lord knew that my dad had betrayed him, he might help me, so I got the client to take a message to him." Her shadowy face showed sudden determination, and for the first time, Chen realized how this dead girl had managed to overcome at least some of the sorry circumstances of her life and death. He leaned across and patted the air above the ghost's knee.

"Pearl, I can't give you back your life. But I can make sure that you go where you belong. We'll see if we can get you on the next ship to Heaven."

"Hang on a minute," Zhu Irzh said.

Chen glared at him. "I fail to see what possible use she'll be to you, Seneschal. She was sent to Hell in the first place to keep her quiet. And Heaven won't let sleeping spirits lie. She'll have to go to the right place sooner or later."

"I have my instructions," the demon said stubbornly. "I was told to find her, and bring her back." He lowered his voice. "She has information, Chen. You heard her—she knows something about whatever's going on. My employer wants to see her. I was told to bring her back."

"You don't really want to do this, Zhu Irzh."

"Are you accusing me of having principles?" the demon said, outraged. Chen did not see the demon move, but the unwavering tip of the katana was suddenly at Chen's throat. Zhu Irzh took a gliding step forward; Chen backed away until he was up against the wall. He stared along the black blade, to meet the demon's golden eyes.

"This is a gateway," Zhu Irzh said. "As you very well know. I can return to my own world from here. I have license to be here. Besides, your goddess may not be happy with you bringing stray spirits to her door like lost dogs. She might prefer you to sort out your problems by yourself."

This was uncomfortably close to the bone. Chen risked a glance at the little statue of the goddess that stood upon the altar, and saw a cold and motionless piece of stone.

"So," the demon purred, following his gaze. "That's the trouble with Heaven: the only thing it ever rewards is impeccability, and so few of us are capable of that, aren't we?"

"You're not taking Pearl Tang back to Hell," Chen said.

"Try and stop me," the demon replied. He raised a hand. The door blew open. Around them, the room began to blur. Red, gritty dust whirled into the room. The two guardian statues turned. Zhu Irzh, momentarily distracted, let the blade waver. Chen snatched the rosary from his pocket and began to chant the Water Sutra: calling on the powers of rain and storm and wind. The guardians creaked back into place and the door slammed shut. The demon shrugged, and once more raised a hand.

"Before you do anything further," Chen said, "and we start shuttling between the worlds like a yoyo, I think I should point something out."

"Oh? What?"

"Look around you," Chen said. Warily, with the katana still at Chen's throat, the demon glanced quickly over his shoulder. The ghost was nowhere to be seen. An expression of baffled dismay crossed Zhu Irzh's face. He performed a swift search of the room, while Chen simply stood and watched.

"Where is she?" Zhu Irzh asked at last, dangerously quiet.

"I've no idea."

"You're lying."

"No, I don't lie. Not often, anyway. It gets me into too much trouble with my goddess. It seems the resourceful Pearl Tang has decided to take responsibility for her own future. When you were pinning me like a moth against the wall, she glided out through the door. I didn't get a chance to stop her," he added, disingenuously. The demon swore.

"Then I'll have to find her," he snapped.

"No, we'll have to find her. Before her father does."

Leaving the disconsolate demon standing in the temple, Chen made a quick and thorough search of the courtyard, softly calling the ghost's name. But the gates of the temple rattled in the rising wind, and there was no trace of her in the rain-lashed streets beyond. The storm was rising, filling the air with driving rain. The ghost could have gone anywhere. Soaked and weary, Chen eventually gave up and returned to the temple, and there behind the door he found a single trace of the ghost: a spectral fragment of scarf. It lay in cobweb fragility across his fingers; he tucked it into his damp pocket with utmost care. Zhu Irzh sat in a corner, silently sulking and indistinguishable from one of the surrounding statues. Chen sat down and removed his sopping coat, then stared fixedly into the shadows above the altar. With the demon's immobile presence only a few yards away, the last thing Chen intended to do was go to sleep.

 

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Framed