Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine 12/01/12 Read online

  "Very wise," he said to Sadiq. "Not to call me 'friend' in her presence."

  "On a day when that one is angry at the Prophet, I would not call him friend," Sadiq replied. "Is this another step in your acquisition of new habits? Last time you came before I was expecting you, and now you come when I'm not expecting you at all." He reached for the kettle.

  "I haven't come for a game, or for tea, Sadiq. I have news that I thought I might share."

  "Oh?"

  "The office of one of the mining companies was vandalized last night."

  "Was it really?"

  "Windows broken, papers scattered about, and the walls spray-painted."

  "With slogans to the glory of Aliqqi the Hero?"

  "Indeed."

  "You were sent for?"

  "I was."

  Sadiq nodded. "And the miscreants? Were they caught?"

  "No, my friend," Lo replied. "They were not. However, there is no question in my mind as to who committed this outrage."

  "Is that so?" Sadiq murmured. "Well, your logic is usually faultless. I suppose you will proceed, then, as you must?"

  "Yes," Lo confirmed. "Exactly."

  The following morning, Detective Lo presented himself at the office of Housing Commissioner Wu. Unlike Public Security Bureau Headquarters and the satellite police buildings, the Housing Commission's suite of offices had powerful air conditioning. The sweat gluing Lo's shirt to his wide back turned icy, causing him to shiver as though in the presence of a ghost.

  Commissioner Wu, small and dapper in a well-made suit, wrinkled his nose at the slovenly, perspiring policeman.

  "I apologize for my appearance," Lo said, sitting though he had not been offered a seat. With his handkerchief he blotted up sweat from his face. "It is very hot today."

  "This is the desert," Wu retorted. "Each of us, until his wishes are granted and he is finally posted back to civilization, will have to put up with the unpleasant conditions of this forsaken place. Really, though, Detective Lo, isn't it possible for you to put yourself together better?"

  "This is why I was promoted to detective," Lo said ruefully. "So that I could work in plainclothes. I was a disgrace to the uniform."

  "No doubt." The commissioner sat back in his chair and frowned. "Detective Lo, I must tell you, your reputation precedes you. To hear you were a disgrace does not altogether surprise me. It is my information that you spend a good deal of time among the Uighurs. I understand you've made it your business to be fluent in their language. You play Xiangqi in teahouses and visit with shopkeepers. It could all make one question where your loyalties lie."

  Lo stopped in mid blot. "I'm surprised to hear that the activities of a policeman hold any interest for the housing commissioner. I suppose, on reflection, I'm flattered, though I'm saddened to hear the opinion you express, sir. The actions you describe are my poor attempts to stay close to the events of the city. They seem valuable to me, in my work, you understand, but perhaps I'm wrong."

  The commissioner sighed impatiently. "That is for your superiors, Detective. I understand you've come here because you have information you believe will interest me. If you do, please proceed."

  "Yes, sir. Of course." Lo folded his handkerchief carefully and tucked it into his pocket, seemingly oblivious to the commissioner's mounting irritation. Crossing his legs and settling into the chair, which, being as substantial as he was, did not complain, he said, "I think you may have heard that the offices of the Golden Chance Mining and Minerals Company were vandalized two nights ago?"

  "No, I had not. I'm too busy to involve myself in problems that are not mine, Detective Lo. I would have thought vandalism was routine police business."

  "It is," Lo agreed. "The Public Security Bureau was alerted by a concerned citizen, and I was sent to the scene. Rousted, in fact, from my bed." He shook his head with a small smile. "Because, you see, I'm able to read the slogans that were sprayed on the walls. At times like these I, like you, question my decision to study the Uighur language. In any case, I did read the slogans. They were to the glory of Aliqqi the Hero."

  "Aliqqi." The commissioner snorted. "An illiterate thug who centuries ago routed some other ragged tribe and stole their sheep. Good luck to him and his glory."

  "As you say. In any case, after I surveyed the situation and ascertained there was no useful evidence to be found, I sent the uniformed officers into the streets to search for the, um, miscreants."

  "Did they find them?"

  "Unfortunately, they did not. There was no evidence left behind that could identify them, you understand. I'm certain that in time, however, we will track them down. In any case, I took it upon myself to remain, keeping the premises secure until officials of the Golden Chance company could make their way there."

  "All proper procedure, no doubt, and I'm sure you're to be commended. Detective Lo, I'm a busy man. Why are you here?"

  "Yes, of course, sir. I'm sorry." Leaning forward, Lo produced two folded, wilting sheets of paper from his shirt pocket. With the palms of his pudgy hands he ironed them out on the commissioner's desk.

  Commissioner Wu inched back, as though to keep a distance between himself and anything that had been in such close proximity to the sweaty policeman. "What's this?"

  Lo gestured to the letterhead of the Golden Chance Mining and Minerals Company. "While I was waiting in the office, I thought to gather up some of the scattered papers. The mining company officials were already going to form an unfortunate impression of Turpan, based upon this offense against their property. I didn't want them to come upon a public servant in the midst of such chaos, just standing there."

  "How civic-minded," the commissioner muttered.

  "One tries to do the right thing. In collecting the papers, though, I found myself glancing at them. Unavoidable, if unplanned; a career's worth of curiosity, I'm afraid I can't control it." He gave a small shake of his head. "Now, I'm just a policeman, you understand, sir, and much of this is beyond my comprehension. However, unless I'm mistaken—always a possibility—I believe this report indicates the presence of, shall we say, unanticipated resources in an unexpected place?"

  Commissioner Wu gazed at Lo a moment longer, then lowered his eyes to the papers. Skeptically at first, then more intently, he read through them, gingerly pinching the first sheet at its edge to lift it so he could study the second. When he had finished, he began again, reading with great care. Finally the commissioner looked up at the detective. "There is gold on land owned by the shopkeeper, Mustafa Sadiq."

  Lo nodded. "That was my conclusion also. I'm glad to see it confirmed by a man of your erudition."

  The commissioner frowned. "I had understood the companies prospecting in the mountains to be after copper. Bauxite. Iron, perhaps."

  "Yes, sir. Until this discovery—made, as it seems, within the week—the mountains near Turpan were not thought to have reserves of gold." Lo hesitated. "Sir?"

  "Yes, what is it?"

  "Well, I don't expect that a man with your heavy responsibilities and busy schedule concerns himself with what amounts to hearsay about circumstances outside his purview."

  "Of course I don't."

  "Then possibly you're not aware of Golden Chance Company's reputation. They're known to be a reliable but conservative firm. They're extremely unlikely to act on information of this sort until it's been corroborated."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Well, of course, mining protocol is unfamiliar to me, but it's my understanding that they'll have ordered more exploratory investigations, before proceeding in any other way."

  Commissioner Wu tapped the paper before him. "It's possible, then, that this finding will turn out to be—what do the medical people call it, a false positive?"

  Lo shook his head. "Judging from the figures there, I don't see how." To the commissioner's raised eyebrows he said, "I studied a bit of minerology myself, sir, before it became clear to me that academic effort was not in my line. I can still read a simple ass
ay. There is no question as to the meaning of this. But since Golden Chance will be offering the owner a large sum for title to his property, it's procedure for them to make doubly sure. Before they approach him."

  Commissioner Wu was silent for a moment. "You're saying Mustafa Sadiq hasn't been told about this yet?"

  "No, sir. I mean, yes, sir, you're correct. He has not."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Mustafa Sadiq is known to me. He's one of the Uighur shopkeepers with whom I've developed a certain relationship, over the years. During a—" Lo gave a shamefaced smile "—a Xiangqi game recently, he and I happened to touch on the subject of land in the mountains. As I'm sure you know, there are few conversations in Turpan these days that do not include mention of mining, and the mining companies. Sadiq told me his family owns land in the mountains, that he has not visited it in years, and that he has granted one of the mining companies permission to explore it. He said nothing more, nor did he appear to be holding anything back."

  "Did he not?"

  "No, sir. Though of course I could be wrong; I speak only as a policeman, with a certain amount of practice at observing people trying not to tell me things." Lo paused again. "Also . . ."

  "Detective! What is it?"

  "Sir, the damage done by the vandals at the Golden Chance offices was extensive. I imagine it will be some time, possibly a week or more, until an inventory is completed, repairs are made, and the routine operations of the firm can return to normal."

  The commissioner sat back in his chair. "They don't know this report is missing."

  "I'm not sure, of course, sir. But considering the disordered state of their offices and files, I'd be very surprised if they did."

  "So." Commissioner Wu looked steadily at Detective Lo. "An enterprising man could make something of this."

  "I think that's true." Lo returned his gaze.

  "Detective Lo," Wu said. "I have to ask why you've brought this . . . opportunity . . . to my attention. You and I have never worked together, nor even met. You're not under my authority. Why haven't you gone directly to Mustafa Sadiq, with whom you're so obviously on friendly terms, and offered to relieve him of this worthless land? Why involve anyone, and why, particularly, myself ?"

  "Well, as to that, Mustafa Sadiq is not a fool. What use has a policeman for land in the mountains? Especially land he's recently been told is worthless? Sadiq would understand immediately that something was afoot, and of course he will recall signing an agreement with the Golden Chance company allowing them to prospect on his land."

  "You're saying, if you make an offer, Sadiq will know immediately the land is valuable."

  "Yes."

  "And why would it be different if I make the offer? I, a commissioner, whom he does not know and has no reason to trust? Unlike a friend," Wu added sardonically.

  "It would not be different."

  "Then what is the point of this exercise? Do you expect me to use Housing Commission funds to speculate, buying this land from Sadiq for whatever outrageous sum he demands, in hopes Golden Chance will pay more?" The commissioner stopped and frowned. "Or perhaps you expect me to condemn it. You are a policeman, so I suppose you don't understand these things, but my powers of condemnation end at the city limits."

  "Yes, sir, I did know that. I agree with you: Condemning the land is not possible, and underpaying Sadiq is not practical."

  "Then why are you wasting my time?" Commissioner Wu's bark caused the detective to start in his chair.

  "That is not my intention, Commissioner, I assure you. Just, as I considered the use an enterprising man, as you say, might make of this information, it came to me that you, sir, are in a unique position."

  "What position would that be?" the commissioner hissed through clenched teeth.

  "Well, of course, it's only an idea, possibly a poor one, but perhaps, sir, at no cost to yourself or the Commission, but in your official capacity, you may be in a position to offer Mustafa Sadiq something in trade for his land. Something he wants very much."

  Later that afternoon, the spice-shop owner, Mustafa Sadiq, found himself summoned to the office of the housing commissioner. Sadiq could, of course, have refused to go, as his neighbors urged him to do. The housing commissioner, for all his despotic behavior, was not the police. He could not compel Sadiq to appear.

  But Sadiq shrugged. "I'm curious," he said. "Why does the housing commissioner even know my name? Why should he want to see a shopkeeper?" His neighbors had no answer. Sadiq changed his shirt, put on a fresh white cap with the embroidery and four-cornered shape of his tribe, and locked up his shop. Heading to the center of the city, where the government buildings squatted, he walked slowly, as the day was very hot.

  Housing Commissioner Wu was not the police, but when Mustafa Sadiq was shown into the commissioner's office, he found the police there, in the person of Detective Lo Pen-wei. He raised his eyebrows at the sight. "Detective Lo," he said, speaking in Mandarin for the benefit of the commissioner, who sat frowning behind his desk. "Is the reason I've been called here a police matter, then?"

  "Sit down," Commissioner Wu ordered Sadiq, before Lo could speak. "Detective Lo is not here in his official capacity—though I expect you to respect his rank—but to serve as a translator. We will be covering some fairly subtle points, and it may be that your Mandarin is not up to the task."

  "The Housing Commission has no translators of its own? How fortunate that the Public Security Bureau is so generous with its officers, then," Sadiq murmured. He seated himself, eyes on Lo.

  "Mustafa Sadiq," the commissioner said. The shopkeeper shifted his gaze to meet the commissioner's. "I've brought you here because I'm interested in land in the mountains."

  "The land in the mountains is interesting," Sadiq said agreeably. "The rock formations, the streams—they are unique in all East Turkestan. But I'm a poor shopkeeper, hardly an expert. I suggest—"

  "Sadiq!" The commissioner gestured irritably at Lo, who spoke to Sadiq in the Uighur language.

  "He means your land in the mountains, Sadiq."

  Sadiq blinked. To the commissioner he said, in Mandarin, "My land in the mountains is no more interesting than another man's."

  "You're wrong. Sadiq, I won't insult you by playing games. Golden Chance Company has found gold on your land. I've brought you here because I want to buy it from you."

  Detective Lo began to translate, but Sadiq waved him silent.

  "There is gold on my land?"

  "I have information."

  Sadiq's brow furrowed. "Why is it you have such information and I do not?"

  "That's neither here nor there, Sadiq. I'm a government official, privy to much that does not reach shopkeepers."

  Sadiq nodded. "I suppose that's true. Is it a great deal of gold?"

  The commissioner blew out a breath. "Would I have brought you here otherwise? I don't have time to waste, Sadiq."

  "No." Sadiq pursed his lips. "Please, you'll forgive me, Commissioner, but this is all new to me. I must try to understand. My ancient ancestors' worthless land has suddenly become valuable." He shook his head. "Keslenqük yilan bolmighi ming yilqilik."

  The commissioner, alarmed, turned to the detective.

  "It is a Uighur proverb," Detective Lo told him. "'It takes a thousand years for a lizard to become a snake.'"

  "Yes," said Sadiq. He smiled. "But look! Finally, it does."

  The commissioner snorted. "I don't know what the meaning of that is supposed to be. We are not discussing lizards, Sadiq. I'm offering to buy your land."

  Sadiq nodded, suppressing the smile and rearranging his features into a serious aspect. "Yes, of course, Commissioner." He smoothed his moustache, as though in an effort to keep the smile under strict control. After a few moments, however, the smile broke through the moustache barricade. Sadiq said, "Well, thinking of it, I don't believe this is quite the right time to sell that land. You can appreciate, I have not had much time to consider the varying benefits of the paths
open to me, but my inclination is to wait and see what arrangement Golden Chance Company suggests. If you'd like to discuss the situation after that, sir, I'd be happy to visit again."

  The commissioner replied, "Mustafa Sadiq, I think you'll find my offer more satisfactory than any that Golden Chance Company will make."

  "Possibly. Once I know what they intend—"

  "No, Sadiq. Now."

  "But, sir, if I don't—"

  "This is my offer: You will convey your land to me. I will convey to the Turpan Historical Preservation and Restoration Commission the home of Aliqqi the Hero."

  Sadiq stared, open-mouthed, at the commissioner. He turned to Detective Lo, who repeated the commissioner's words in the Uighur language.

  "Well." Sadiq shook his head, as if to clear it. "That was what I thought I heard." He hesitated; then, resuming speaking in Mandarin, he said to the commissioner, "It is a generous offer, sir. I appreciate the Housing Commission's acknowledgment of the value to my nation of the home of Aliqqi the Hero. But . . ."

  Commissioner Wu glanced at Detective Lo, and back to Sadiq. "But what? It is, as you yourself have said, a generous offer. Land where the worth is yet to be proven, in exchange for something of known and inestimable value to your people."

  "Sir," Sadiq said, "what you say about the value of the home of Aliqqi the Hero to my people is true. It is an irreplaceable monument in our hearts. But I have three daughters. They will have husbands soon—the eldest, Qolpan, is already being courted—and they will have children. The land in the mountains is their birthright. It is not my place to give it away, even in exchange for such a cultural treasure."

  "Sadiq," said Detective Lo, before the commissioner could respond. "Did you not tell me the home of Aliqqi the Hero is the birthright of every Uighur?"

  "Yes." Sadiq swallowed. "That is what makes this a difficult decision. One birthright for another. But I don't see how I can agree to this."

  "Sadiq, you yourself will be a hero to your people if you do," the commissioner said. "Our arrangement, of course, will remain private. But I will make it widely known that I was persuaded not to demolish the home of Aliqqi the Hero, but to convey it to the Preservation Society instead, by the silver tongue of the shopkeeper Mustafa Sadiq."