Chapter 1154 - Cretia's Choice

While the investigation continued, the aftermath of Vestreling's death had to be addressed.

Father De Mordt conducted a proper Catholic funeral service at the small chapel in the commercial district. It was a modest affair—there weren't many Catholics in Kaohsiung—but all the Elders present attended, as well as Huygens and several Dutch sailors who had sailed from Tayouan when news of the tragedy reached them.

Cretia stood throughout the service, her face pale but composed. She had wept all her tears in the first two days; now she was simply numb.

Wei Bachi had been dreading this moment—the confrontation with the Dutch over what had happened. But Huygens surprised him.

"I do not blame you," Huygens said quietly after the service. "I saw what happened. The killer was disguised as one of your sailors, but he was not truly one of your men. This was a conspiracy against both of us."

Relief washed over Wei Bachi. "You understand, then."

"I understand. But I also understand that someone wanted us to fight—wanted to set the Senate against the Company. We must not let them succeed."

This was exactly the sentiment the Senate needed to hear. Wei Bachi immediately telegraphed a summary of the conversation to Lingao, where it would help defuse any hawkish sentiment about going to war with the Dutch.

The more difficult conversation was with Cretia herself.

She came to Wei Bachi's office the day after the funeral, still dressed in mourning.

"I want to stay," she said without preamble.

"Stay? In Kaohsiung?"

"In Kaohsiung. Or anywhere you'll have me. I want to help find the people who killed my brother."

Wei Bachi was taken aback. He had assumed she would want to return to Tayouan—to her father—as soon as possible.

"Miss Bancuijt, I don't think—"

"My father will understand. Or he won't. Either way, I'm not leaving until there is justice for Vestreling."

There was steel in her voice that Wei Bachi hadn't heard before. Grief had hardened this young Dutch woman into something formidable.

"What could you possibly do to help?" he asked, not unkindly.

"I have skills. I speak multiple languages—Dutch, Portuguese, some Spanish, and I'm learning your Chinese quickly. I can translate. I can write reports. I can do whatever you need." She paused. "And I know Dutch East India Company operations. I know their procedures, their politics. If you're going to deal with whoever is behind this conspiracy, you'll need someone who understands the European side of things."

Wei Bachi had to admit she had a point. The Senate was short on people who could navigate European colonial politics. Most of their efforts had focused on dealing with Chinese powers—the Ming, the pirates, the merchants. The Dutch and Portuguese had been handled more by improvisation than expertise.

"I'll have to consult with Lingao," he said finally. "This isn't a decision I can make alone."

The consultation was brief. The Executive Committee saw the value in having a well-connected Dutch insider who, moreover, harbored a personal vendetta against the real enemy. They approved her temporary attachment to the Kaohsiung Station.

So Cretia Bancuijt became an unlikely member of the Senate's operation—a Dutch merchant's daughter, grieving for her murdered brother, now working alongside the very people her father's company had once viewed as rivals.

Zhong Xiaoying took her under her wing. The two young women—one Chinese, one European—had formed an unlikely bond during those terrible days, and now that bond deepened into genuine friendship. Zhong Xiaoying taught Cretia practical Chinese; Cretia shared insights into Dutch methods and mentalities.

Meanwhile, the political implications of the assassination continued to unfold.

The Executive Committee in Lingao had received a full report on the incident and the investigation. The evidence pointing to Zheng Zhilong—or at least his subordinates—was compelling but not conclusive. Li Shun's testimony implicated Lin Shimao, and through him, possibly Zheng Zhifeng. But there was no direct link to Zheng Zhilong himself.

Some Elders wanted to use this as a pretext for immediate military action against Anping. The conspiracy had targeted a foreign guest on Senate territory and nearly succeeded in framing the Senate for murder. That demanded a response.

Others counseled caution. The Dutch situation had been handled well—Huygens was sympathetic, and through him, the Company might be mollified. Going to war with Zheng Zhilong now, when the Senate's position in Taiwan was still being consolidated, might be premature.

In the end, they reached a compromise: prepare for eventual military action while continuing to gather evidence. Operation Engine—the codename for the planned campaign against Zheng Zhilong—remained on track, but its timing would be determined by strategic considerations rather than rage over Vestreling's death.

The young Dutchman had become a pawn in a game he never understood. And now the players on all sides were positioning their pieces for the next phase.

(End of Chapter)