Chapter 17: The Raid on the Tea

The last envelope went into the boatman's widow's hands at one o'clock.

She did not weep.

She turned it over and said, "Sixty yuan. That's exactly what he took," and then she kissed Qiao on both cheeks like a sister.

Behind them, a whistle sounded at the mouth of the lane.

Jinyu knew the sound by now.

Twelve constables came in a double line, and between them walked Pei Mingshan in a grey silk gown.

He carried a paper in one hand and a pair of gloves in the other.

The lane went quiet from one end to the other.

"Wen Jinyu," the sergeant called. His arm was still in its bandage and his face was blank. "Step out."

"Here I am."

"I have a paper from the magistrate, signed this morning."

He read from it without looking up.

"Wen Jinyu, keeper of the Tingsong Teahouse, accused of harbouring a fugitive from justice, to wit Lin Qiao, wanted for theft."

A murmur ran round the lane.

Mingshan smiled.

"My sister-in-law," he said gently. "I did warn you."

Jinyu turned her head and saw Qiao beginning to move.

She caught her eye and shook her head, once, very slightly.

Then she mouthed a single word.

"Stone."

Qiao's face went white, and then it went still.

She stepped back into the crowd, and the crowd closed round her.

A fat boatman shifted his shoulders.

A silk winder dropped her basket and bent to pick it up exactly where Qiao had been.

When Jinyu looked again, there was only a lane full of faces.

"Come along, landlady," said the sergeant, not unkindly.

They did not put her in irons.

They put her in the middle of the double line and walked her down the lane at the pace of a funeral.

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