Everett, tell her not to come back. She’s been sacked. Given the elbow. Shown the curtain. Danced her last chorus. She won’t be paid either. We don’t pay those who let us down, do we, Mr Harcourt?’
‘No, we don’t, sir,’ the concierge said smiling.
‘Anyway, I have a dance number waiting. Goodbye.’
With a little wave, the director flounced off into the darkness of the theatre.
Richard took out his pocket book and quickly wrote a note for Elsie. ‘Would you be good enough to give Miss Everett this, if you see her?’
The concierge took the note, leaving his hand extended, palm upwards.
‘Oh yes, of course.’ He gave the man a dollar.
‘Thank you kindly, sir. Very generous. But between you and me, I don’t think we’ll see her again. There was another gentleman who used to hang around here waiting for her. If I were you, I would forget Miss Everett. Not your type at all, if you get my drift.’ And once again, he touched his finger to the side of his nose.
The concierge pocketed the dollar and returned inside his shed guarding the theatre door.
At the bottom of the alley, a hawker was selling newspapers. In his hand was a copy of the
North China Daily News
with a large headline:
WOMAN’S BODY FOUND IN CREEK
Richard shivered as if someone had just walked over his grave.
***
‘Both occurred in the last eight days?’
Lieutenant Masset nodded. ‘We found the second body three days ago, over towards the old Chinese city, on the borders of our Concession. At first, we thought they were gang related.’
‘What changed your mind?’
‘They lack the simple brutality of a gang killing. With the gangs, it’s either a shot to the head or long, painful torture, followed by dumping the body in the street. Both are there to set an example. To discourage the others, as you English are fond of saying.’
‘It’s actually to “encourage” the others, and it was used first by a Frenchman,’ said Strachan.
Danilov held his hand up for silence. ‘But you think something else is happening?’
The Lieutenant again brought his three fingers up to his mouth and blew on them. ‘It’s almost as if the bodies had been put on show. Like an art gallery. We were meant to find them, to see them, as they had been displayed.’
Danilov reached into his pocket and pulled out his tobacco tin. He took one of the papers from the tin and laid it on the table, adding a few strands of tobacco. Then he closed the tin, placing it on its side on the edge of the table, adjusting the angle until it matched the lip of the wood. That felt better. The tin was in perfect alignment. ‘Tell me about the bodies,’ he said.
Masset opened the case file. ‘The first victim was one of our resident magistrates, a lawyer by training, Monsieur Flamini. The body was found on the steps of the courthouse, hands tied behind his back. He had been strangled. That was eight days ago.’
‘He could have been killed by a gang. Perhaps he had jailed one if their members,’ said Strachan.
‘That is true,’ agreed Masset, pausing for a moment for effect, ‘but why was the body frozen? As hard as ice it was. The weather has been cold recently but not cold enough to freeze a body.’ Lieutenant Masset stared into mid-air. ‘I’ll always remember the way the man’s lips were parted from his teeth. Pulled back in a snarl like a scared dog.’
He took out a silver case and lit a cigarette. The aroma of Turkish tobacco filled the room. ‘It was a grimace, the look of a man who had seen something terrible at the point of his death.’ Masset took a long drag on his cigarette. ‘I was at Verdun, Inspector, and I’ll tell you, I never saw anything like the look on the magistrate’s face.’
He took another drag on the cigarette. ‘And we found a ten dollar note frozen in the man’s hand, his fingers gripping it tightly. Our pathologist thought he had been alive when he was frozen.’
‘Could I see the body?’
Masset shook his
‘No, we don’t, sir,’ the concierge said smiling.
‘Anyway, I have a dance number waiting. Goodbye.’
With a little wave, the director flounced off into the darkness of the theatre.
Richard took out his pocket book and quickly wrote a note for Elsie. ‘Would you be good enough to give Miss Everett this, if you see her?’
The concierge took the note, leaving his hand extended, palm upwards.
‘Oh yes, of course.’ He gave the man a dollar.
‘Thank you kindly, sir. Very generous. But between you and me, I don’t think we’ll see her again. There was another gentleman who used to hang around here waiting for her. If I were you, I would forget Miss Everett. Not your type at all, if you get my drift.’ And once again, he touched his finger to the side of his nose.
The concierge pocketed the dollar and returned inside his shed guarding the theatre door.
At the bottom of the alley, a hawker was selling newspapers. In his hand was a copy of the
North China Daily News
with a large headline:
WOMAN’S BODY FOUND IN CREEK
Richard shivered as if someone had just walked over his grave.
***
‘Both occurred in the last eight days?’
Lieutenant Masset nodded. ‘We found the second body three days ago, over towards the old Chinese city, on the borders of our Concession. At first, we thought they were gang related.’
‘What changed your mind?’
‘They lack the simple brutality of a gang killing. With the gangs, it’s either a shot to the head or long, painful torture, followed by dumping the body in the street. Both are there to set an example. To discourage the others, as you English are fond of saying.’
‘It’s actually to “encourage” the others, and it was used first by a Frenchman,’ said Strachan.
Danilov held his hand up for silence. ‘But you think something else is happening?’
The Lieutenant again brought his three fingers up to his mouth and blew on them. ‘It’s almost as if the bodies had been put on show. Like an art gallery. We were meant to find them, to see them, as they had been displayed.’
Danilov reached into his pocket and pulled out his tobacco tin. He took one of the papers from the tin and laid it on the table, adding a few strands of tobacco. Then he closed the tin, placing it on its side on the edge of the table, adjusting the angle until it matched the lip of the wood. That felt better. The tin was in perfect alignment. ‘Tell me about the bodies,’ he said.
Masset opened the case file. ‘The first victim was one of our resident magistrates, a lawyer by training, Monsieur Flamini. The body was found on the steps of the courthouse, hands tied behind his back. He had been strangled. That was eight days ago.’
‘He could have been killed by a gang. Perhaps he had jailed one if their members,’ said Strachan.
‘That is true,’ agreed Masset, pausing for a moment for effect, ‘but why was the body frozen? As hard as ice it was. The weather has been cold recently but not cold enough to freeze a body.’ Lieutenant Masset stared into mid-air. ‘I’ll always remember the way the man’s lips were parted from his teeth. Pulled back in a snarl like a scared dog.’
He took out a silver case and lit a cigarette. The aroma of Turkish tobacco filled the room. ‘It was a grimace, the look of a man who had seen something terrible at the point of his death.’ Masset took a long drag on his cigarette. ‘I was at Verdun, Inspector, and I’ll tell you, I never saw anything like the look on the magistrate’s face.’
He took another drag on the cigarette. ‘And we found a ten dollar note frozen in the man’s hand, his fingers gripping it tightly. Our pathologist thought he had been alive when he was frozen.’
‘Could I see the body?’
Masset shook his
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