Poets And Murder Read online

  ‘Absolutely!’ Lo exclaimed. ‘For the time being, however, we’ll officially call it murder for robbery, so as not to alarm our man. As to his motive, I think it may well have been blackmail, Dee.’

  Judge Dee sat up straight. ‘Blackmail? What makes you think that, Lo?’

  The small magistrate took a book down from the shelf, and opened it on a page marked by an inscribed slip of paper. ‘Look, elder brother. Meng’s mother was a tidy old lady, who kept her books neatly stacked. Now, however, the sequence of the volumes has become mixed up here and there. Further, every time she came upon a poem she particularly liked, she wrote her comments on a slip of paper like the one I have here, and inserted that slip into the book, exactly opposite the poem it referred to. However, leafing through a few volumes while talking with old Meng, I noticed that not a few slips had been inserted into the wrong places, and so carelessly that some had got false folds.

  ‘Now I admit that the student might have been responsible for this. However, I also discovered recent smudges in the dust on the shelf behind the books. I think that the murderer ransacked the room only to make it appear as if a vagabond had been looking for money. And that the real object of his search was a document. Now, could you find a better place for concealing an important document than between the pages of a certain book, on the shelves of a well-stocked library? And if another fellow is then so keen on finding that document that he doesn’t hesitate to commit a murder for it, one is inclined to think that the said document was of an incriminating nature; and then one thinks of blackmail.’

  ‘You’ve made a very good point there, Lo.’ Tapping the small pile of notepaper on the desk, the judge went on, ‘These notes bear out your theory that the murderer was looking for a document. These are Soong’s notes on his historical research. The first six pages are covered with his small, scholarly handwriting, the fifty or so that remain are still blank. You see that Soong was a methodical fellow, for he numbered each sheet. Yet the pile is askew, and on some of the blank sheets there are dusty fingermarks. Which indicates that the murderer carefully went through this pile. And what vagrant ruffian will ever bother to go through a bundle of manuscript notes?’

  Lo got up with a deep sigh.

  ‘Since the scoundrel had all night to search for the blasted paper, he probably found it too! But I am afraid we’ll have to go over the place anyway, Dee. Just to make sure.’

  Judge Dee got up too. Together they searched the library thoroughly. When the judge had sorted out the papers strewn on the floor and replaced them in the drawers, he remarked: ‘All these documents are bills, receipts and so on of the Meng family. The only item that belonged to Soong is this small volume entitled Tunes for the Straight Flute, written in his hand, and marked with his seal. It’s a complicated musical score unknown to me, consisting of abbreviated characters, as far as I can see. There are a dozen or so tunes, but the titles and the words have been omitted.’

  Lo had been looking under the floormat. He righted himself and said:

  ‘Yes, Soong played the flute. A long bamboo flute is hanging in his bedroom. Noticed it because I used to play the flute too, formerly.’

  ‘Have you ever seen this system of notation?’

  ‘No. I always played by ear: Lo replied loftily. ‘Well, we’d better go to work on the bedroom now, Dee. There’s nothing here.’

  The judge put the music book in his sleeve, and they went to the other room. The coroner was laboriously writing out his report on the autopsy. standing at the dressing-table, his portable writing-set at his elbow. Magistrate Lo took the flute that was hanging by a silk tassel from the nail in the wall. He shook back his sleeves with a determined gesture, and put the flute to his lips. But he succeeded only in producing a few disconcertingly shrill notes. Quickly lowering the flute, he said with a pained look:

  ‘Used to play rather well, but I am out of practice. A good place to hide a document in, though. Tightly rolled up.’ He peered into the flute, then shook his head disconsolately. They went through the clothes-box, but the only papers they found were Soong’s identity card and a few documents relating to his literary examinations. There was not one personal note or letter.

  Shaking the dust from his robe, Judge Dee said:

  ‘According to his landlord, Soong knew nobody here in your district. But Meng admits he hardly ever saw his lodger. We must question the maids who brought him his food, Lo.’

  ‘That I must leave to you, elder brother! I really have to go home now. Have to pay my respects to my distinguished guests, you know. And my first, seventh and eighth wives told me this morning they want to consult me about purchases for the Moon Festival.’

  ‘All right, I’ll do the questioning.’ While conducting his colleague to the door, the judge resumed, ‘The feast’ll be a big treat for your children, Lo. How many have you?’ Lo smiled broadly.

  ‘Eleven boys and six girls,’ he announced proudly. Then, however, his face fell. ‘I’ve eight wives; you see. Quite a burden, Dee. Emotionally, I mean. Set out on my official career with only three wives, but you know how it goes. One contracts a friendship somewhere outside, then it seems so much simpler to put the lady in a pavilion within one’s compound, and the next thing you know is that she’s formally installed as a secondary wife I And it’s sad to see how such a change in status will affect a woman’s character, Dee. If I remember how nice and accommodating my eighth was when she was still dancing in the Sapphire Bower—’ Suddenly he smote his forehead. ‘Holy heaven, I nearly forgot I—I must drop in at the Sapphire Bower on my way back. To select the dancers for the dinner party tonight, you see. Always make it a point to choose them personally, feel it’s my duty to see that my guests get only the best. Well, fortunately the Sapphire Bower is only a couple of streets from here.’

  ‘Is it a house of assignation?’

  Lo gave him a reproachful look.

  ‘My dear fellow I Of course not I call it a distribution centre of local talent. Or a training institute for the liberal arts.’

  ‘Training institute or distribution centre,’ Judge Dee said dryly, ‘since the student Soong was all alone here, he may have paid a visit there late at night. Better inquire whether they remember a man answering the student’s description, Lo.’

  ‘Yes, I’ll do that.’ Suddenly the small magistrate chuckled. ‘Must see also about a little surprise tonight. Specially for you, Dee!’

  ‘You’ll do nothing of the sort!’ the judge told him acidly. ‘I must say I fail to understand how you can be thinking of frolicking with women while this murder case—’

  Lo raised his hand.

  ‘You have me all wrong, elder brother! My surprise concerns an intriguing judicial problem.’

  ‘Oh yes. I… I see,’ the judge said contritely. He resumed quickly, ‘Anyway, I think we can do without another judicial problem, Lo. Soong’s murder is intriguing enough I If that unfortunate student had been a local citizen, we’d at least know where to look for clues. But since Soong arrived here out of the blue, so to speak, I fear that—’

  ‘You know that I never mix business with pleasure, Dee,’ Lo said primly. The brutal murder of Soong is official business. My surprise for you, on the other hand, is a purely theoretical problem, for its legal consequences concern neither of us. You’ll meet the main person at dinner tonight, Dee I Tantalizing puzzle. It’ll tickle you no end!’

  Judge Dee shot his colleague a suspicious look. Then he said briskly, ‘Please order the steward to bring the maid who used to serve Soong here, Lo. And send a palankeen to fetch me, will you?’

  As Magistrate Lo took the path across the orchard, two guards carrying a bamboo stretcher made way for him. Judge Dee took them to the bedroom. While the guards rolled the dead body in a reed mat and placed it on the stretcher, the judge read the official report the coroner had handed him. Stuffing it into his sleeve, he said:

  ‘You state here only that the mortal blow was inflicted by a sharp instrument. I notic
ed it wasn’t a clean-cut wound-a jagged gash, rather. What about a chisel or a file, or some other carpenter’s tool?’

  The coroner pursed his lips.

  ‘Quite possible, sir. Since the murder weapon was not found, I didn’t like to commit myself.’

  ‘I see. You may leave now, coroner. I’ll hand your report to the magistrate.’

  An elderly man with a pronounced stoop herded two girls inside. Both wore simple blue gowns with black sashes round their waists. The younger was small and rather plain-looking, but the other had a round, attractive face, and her carriage showed she was well aware of her good figure. Judge Dee motioned them to follow him to the library. When he had let himself down into the armchair again, the old steward pushed the small girl to the front and said with a bow:

  ‘This is Peony, sir. She used to serve Soong his noon rice, clean up and make the bed. The other is called Aster. She brought him his evening meals.’

  ‘Well, Peony: the judge addressed the plain girl kindly, ‘Mr Soong must have given you quite a lot of extra work. Especially when he had company.’

  ‘Oh no, sir, Mr Soong never had any visitors. And I didn’t mind a little extra work, sir, for it’s an easy household, since the Old Lady died. There’s only the master and the first and second mistress, and their son and daughter. Very kind persons, all of them, sir. And Mr Soong also was a kind gentleman. Gave me a tip for doing his laundry.’

  ‘He often engaged you in small talk, I suppose?’

  ‘Only good morning and so on, sir. He was a scholarly gentleman, sir. Terrible to think that now he .. .’

  ‘Thank you. Take Peony outside, Steward: When he was alone with the elder girl, the judge resumed, ‘Peony is a little country lass, Aster. You look like a girl about town who knows what’s what, and .. .’ He had expected a smile, but she just stared fixedly at him, a glint of fear in her wide eyes. Suddenly she asked:

  ‘Is it true what the steward said, sir? That his throat was bitten through?’

  The judge raised his eyebrows. ‘Bitten through, you say? What nonsense is this? Mr Soong’s neck had been cut with a …’ He broke off in midsentence, remembering the jagged gash. ‘Speak up!’ he resumed testily. ‘What do you mean by bitten through?’ Looking down at her tightly clasped hands, she said in a surly voice:

  ‘Mr Soong had a girl friend. I am going steady with the head-waiter in the large tea-house in the next street, and the other night when we stood talking on the corner of the back alley, we saw Mr Soong slip outside, stealthy-like. All dressed up in black.’

  ‘Did you see him meet his girl there?’

  ‘No, sir. But a couple of days ago he asked me whether the silver shop behind the Temple of Confucius still sells those hairpins with round filigree knobs. He wanted a present for his girl, of course. And she—she killed him.’ Judge Dee gave her an uncertain look.

  ‘What exactly do you mean?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘She was a fox, sir! A fox posing as a beautiful young girl, so as to bewitch him. And when he was completely in her power, she bit his throat.’ Seeing Judge Dee’s contemptuous smile, she went on quickly, ‘He was under a spell, sir, I swear it I And he knew it, for he asked me once whether there were many foxes here, and where they—’

  ‘A level-headed young woman like you,’ the judge interrupted, ‘ought to know better than to believe those silly stories about fox-magic. Foxes are just nice, clever animals that harm nobody.’

  ‘The people here don’t think so, sir,’ she said stubbornly.

  ‘I tell you that he was bewitched by a female fox. Yo should’ve heard those weird tunes he used to play on his flute at night! That strange music carried all across the orchard. I could hear it when I was combing my master’s daughter’s hair.’

  ‘As I passed the family quarters, I saw a handsome young girl looking through the window. That was Mr Meng’s daughter. I suppose?’

  ‘Must’ve been her, sir. Handsome is as handsome does, and she’s an open-handed, nice girl. Only sixteen, but very good at making poetry, people say.’

  ‘To come back to your boy friend, Aster. Has Mr Soong ever visited the tea-house where he works? It’s quite near, you said.’

  ‘No, sir. He’s never seen the student anywhere. And he knows all the tea- and wine-houses in this neighbourhood- too well! Please don’t tell the master about my boy friend, sir. The master is very old-fashioned, and—’

  ‘Don’t worry, Aster, I shan’t.’ The judge rose. ‘Thanks very much.’

  Outside he told the steward to take him to the main gate, where a small litter stood waiting.

  As he was carried back to the tribunal, the judge reflected that the student’s murder would probably not be solved before his departure for Poo-yang. It had all the makings of a vexing, time-consuming case. Well, Magistrate Lo would know how to deal with it. His colleague had handled the investigation on the spot in a businesslike manner, and he was a shrewd observer. Doubtless he also would have realized that this might after all turn out to be an inside case. The tea-merchant had seemed over-eager to convince them that a vagrant ruffian from outside had committed the crime. There were all kinds of interesting possibilities.

  He pulled the six pages of the student’s notes from his sleeve, and read them through carefully. Then he leaned back, pensively tugging at his moustache. The notes were to the point. Names of rebel leaders were listed that apparently were not mentioned in the official history, and data on the economic situation in the district at the time of the peasant revolt, two hundred years ago. Yet it seemed but a meagre result, if one remembered that Soong had spent every afternoon in the chancery archives during the past two weeks.

  The judge decided he would draw Lo’s attention to the possibility that Soong’s historical research had been only a pretext, and that he had come to Chin-hwa for quite a different reason. It was curious that the superstition about fox-magic was so strong in this district. Popular belief all over the country credited the fox with supernatural powers, and the storytellers on the market loved to expand on old tales of foxes changing themselves into beautiful young girls to bewitch young men, or into old gentlemen of venerable appearance who led unsuspecting young girls astray. But classical literature, on the contrary, stated that the fox had mystic powers over malicious spirits. Therefore one would often find in old palaces and public offices a small shrine dedicated to the fox spirit, which was supposed to ward off evil, and to protect especially the official seals, the emblems of authority.

  He thought he had seen such a small shrine in his colleague’s residence. He wondered uneasily what surprise his colleague had in store for him at dinner, for he profoundly distrusted Lo’s particular kind of impish humour. Heaven only knew what mischief he was up to now I Lo had suggested that one of his guests was involved in a judicial problem. The person concerned could hardly be the Academician or the Court Poet, both high-ranking officials and famous men of letters, certainly capable of dealing effectively with all their personal problems, judicial or not I It had to be that mysterious sexton who had got himself into trouble. Well, he would know soon enough. The judge closed his eyes.

  Chapter 5

  WALKING ALONG the broad corridor of the chancery facing Lo’s residence, Judge Dee bestowed a casual look upon the dozen or so clerks who were busily wielding their writing-brushes at high desks, piled with dossiers and papers. Since the tribunal is the administrative centre of the entire district, it is not only the seat of criminal jurisdiction, but also the registration office of births, marriages and deaths, and of sales and purchases of landed property; moreover, the tribunal is responsible for the collection of taxes, including land tax. When the judge passed the lattice door of the hall at the end of the corridor, he saw through the open woodwork the counsellor, bent over his desk. He knew Kao only by sight. On the impulse of the moment he pushed the door open and went into the scrupulously clean office.

  Kao looked up and quickly got to his feet.

  ‘Please be s
eated, Excellency! Can I offer you a cup of tea? ‘

  ‘Don’t trouble, Mr Kao. I won’t sit down, for I am expected in the residence. Has Magistrate Lo told you the result of our visit to the scene of Soong’s murder?’

  ‘My chief was in a hurry to see his guests, sir. He just dropped in and ordered me to inform the Board of Education in the capital that Soong had been murdered, and ask them to apprise the next of kin.’ Handing the judge a draft, he added, ‘I also asked the Board to ascertain the family’s wishes regarding the burial.’

  ‘Very good, Mr Kao. You’d better add a request for information regarding the student’s background. Just to complete the record.’ Returning the draft to Kao, he resumed, ‘Mr Meng told us that you had introduced Soong to him. Do you know the tea-merchant well?’

  ‘Yes indeed, sir. When I was transferred here five years ago from the Prefect’s office, I made Mr Meng’s acquaintance in the local chess club. Now we meet there every week for a game. I came to know him as a man of elevated character, sir. Rather conservative, but by no means an old fogey. And a strong chess player!’

  ‘Being an old-fashioned gentleman, Mr Meng keeps his household in proper order, I suppose? Never any rumours about clandestine relations or …’

  ‘Never, sir! A model household, I’d call it! I paid a courtesy call on Meng, and had the honour to be presented to the Old Lady, who was then still alive. Locally she was well known as a poetess, sir. And Mr Meng’s son is an intelligent youngster, he’s only fourteen and already in the highest form of the District School.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Meng made a most favourable impression on me. Well, thanks for your information, Mr Kao.’

  The counsellor conducted Judge Dee all the way to the monumental entrance gate of Magistrate Lo’s private residence. Just as the judge was about to enter, a broad-shouldered officer came outside. He wore the black, red-bordered tunic of the Prefecture, the long red tassels on his iron helmet indicating that he was a sergeant of the guard. A broadsword was strapped to his back. The judge went to ask him whether he had brought a message from the Prefect, but desisted when he saw the round bronze plaque hanging on a chain from the sergeant’s neck. This was the token that he was on special duty, conveying a criminal to the capital. The tall officer hurriedly crossed the yard to overtake Counsellor Kao. Vaguely Judge Dee wondered what important criminal was being escorted through Chin-hwa.