“Cover it up?” Crane could sense Stephen’s eyes on him and felt the unfamiliar, unwelcome prickle of shame.
“But someone found out anyway. Another shaman came to Tom. He knew all about it. He said Pa and Lo would be taken for judgement and Rackham would be handed over for murder. He said Tom would be judged too for his part in corrupting them. He was angry and he threatened them and—” She licked her lips. “They panicked. Pa and Lo and Rackham. I suppose he wasn’t expecting them to fight, but they did. They killed him.”
“Another shaman. While I was in the north.” Crane’s voice sounded hollow in his own ears, and an awful suspicion was building at the back of his mind.
“He’d come alone. Shamans usually work alone in China,” Leonora added to Esther. “And Rackham said if we put the body in an iron box, and threw it in the harbour, it couldn’t be traced. So that’s what we did. And—”
“Hang on.” The same unwelcome thought had obviously just hit Merrick. “This shaman, missus. You ain’t saying—”
“Xan Ji-yin,” said Crane. “Tom had Xan Ji-yin killed? Tom?”
“He didn’t have him killed! It just…happened.”
“Mother fuck!” Crane leapt up from his seat and stalked over to the window. “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Gold. My apologies.”
“Don’t mind me,” said Esther dryly. “Make amends by telling me who this man was.”
Crane put his hands through his hair. “One of the most powerful, influential shamans in Shanghai. His disappearance was still a scandal when we came back from Manchuria. They never stopped looking for him. Imagine knocking the Archbishop of Canterbury on the head and chucking him in the Thames.”
Esther whistled, unladylike. “The body wasn’t found?”
“Not by the time we left, and that was less than a year ago. This must be what, thirteen years back?”
“But what about those flagpoles? I thought dreadful things happened if you didn’t bury shamans properly.”
“You said something about their souls becoming vampires.” Stephen’s voice was professional and unemotional. “That’s rather close to this Java business, the anitu. Souls of the dead taking animal form for purposes of murder.”
“You think it’s this Xan chap possessing the rats?” said Esther thoughtfully. “Well, that would be interesting.”
“That’s not the word,” Crane snapped. “Surely to God that’s not possible. It was on the other side of the world!”
Esther shrugged. “What did this precious pair, and Rackham, do after murdering the archbishop?”
“Tom got rid of them. He sent Pa and Lo to the other end of China and put Rackham on a ship to Macao, told them all never to come back. I never heard anything about Pa or Lo again. Rackham came back a few years later, after Tom died, with an opium habit.” Leonora looked around helplessly. “I thought it was over. I forgot about it.”
Crane sat down and put his face in his hands. “You forgot.”
“Well, what did you want me to do?” snapped Leonora. “Get the harbour dredged and present his bones to the next of kin? Go to a nunnery? The man’s dead!”
“Who’s avenging him?” asked Stephen.
Leonora shook her head. “I don’t know. He had apprentices, followers. It could be anyone.”
“You don’t agree?” Stephen asked Crane, watching his face.
“It doesn’t feel right. I can’t help thinking they’d have come on a lot stronger if it was Xan’s followers. Taken Pa and Lo and Rackham back for judgement, confronted you directly. I’d have expected rather more of a performance made of it. This business with the rats is vengeance, not justice. Especially with the Ratcliffe Highway deaths. That’s not what shamans—true shamans—would do.”
Esther nodded. “What about the girl?”
“Which girl?” asked Leonora blankly.
“The one whose murder your husband concealed,” Stephen said. Crane felt himself flinch along with Leo. “Who was she?”
Leonora reddened. “I wasn’t thinking— I don’t know who she was. Her name was Arabella. She was with the Baptist mission. I don’t know anything else. Tom didn’t tell me and I didn’t want to know.”
“Rackham had an English girl killed?” said Crane incredulously.
“Is that worse than a Chinese girl?” asked Esther.
“Less usual. Was her body dumped too?” Crane asked Leo.
“I don’t know. I suppose so.”
“Right,” Stephen said. “So we have our link between the rat victims. There remains the possible Java connection—anything coming back to mind on that, Mrs. Hart? No? And other than that, we have two very clear motives of vengeance. We need to know who this Arabella was. Lord Crane, can you assist?” he asked formally.