Murder in Canton: A Judge Dee Mystery Read online

  As soon as they had passed through the outer gate, they saw that the temple compound resembled indeed a night-fair. The stone-paved pathway leading to the high marble staircase of the monumental front hall was lined with temporary lamp posts, connected by gaily coloured garlands of lampions. On either side was a row of stalls offering a great variety of merchandise: holy books as well as children's toys, sweetmeats as well as rosaries. Hawkers of oil-cakes pushed their way through the throng, praising their wares in strident voices.

  Judge Dee looked at the teeming crowd.

  ‘Bad luck!’ he said peevishly to Tao Gan. ‘How could one locate a man in this awful throng? And where is this famous pagoda?’

  Tao Gan pointed at the sky. Beyond the main building rose the nine storeys of the Flowery Pagoda, nearly three hundred feet high. The golden globe crowning its spire shone in the moonlight. Judge Dee could hear faintly the tinkling of the small silver bells suspended all along the curved roofs of every storey.

  ‘Beautiful construction!’ the judge remarked with satisfaction. As he walked on, he cast a casual glance at the tea-pavilion on his right, under a cluster of tall bamboos. The pavilion was empty; people were so busy admiring the sights that they had no time for a leisurely cup of tea. In front of the gate stood two gaudily dressed women, under the watchful eye of an old hag who was leaning against the doorpost, picking her teeth. Judge Dee suddenly halted in his steps.

  ‘You go ahead and have a look around,’ he told Tao Gan; ‘I'll follow presently.’

  Then he stepped up to the pavilion. The smaller girl was young and not unattractive, but the taller one looked about thirty, and the thick layer of powder and rouge on her face could not conceal the ravage caused by her profession. The old hag quickly pushed the girls aside and with an ingratiating smirk addressed the judge in Cantonese.

  ‘I'd like to talk a bit with your girls,’ he cut her unintelligible harangue short. ‘Do they understand the northern language?’

  ‘Talk? Nonsense! You either do business, or nothing!’ the hag rasped in atrocious northern Chinese. ‘Sixty coppers. The house is back of the temple.’

  The elder girl, who had been looking at the judge with a listless air, now beckoned him and said eagerly in pure northern dialect:

  ‘Please take me, sir!’

  ‘The scarecrow you can get for thirty!’ the hag remarked with a sneer. ‘But why not pay sixty and have yourself this nice young chicken?’

  He took a handful of coppers from his sleeve and gave them to the old woman.

  ‘I'll take the tall one,’ he said curtly. ‘But I want to talk a bit with her first. I am fastidious.’

  ‘I don't get that word, but for this money you can do with her whatever you like! It's getting so that she costs more money than she brings in!’

  The judge motioned the girl to follow him inside the pavilion. They sat down at a small table, and he ordered from the sneering waiter a pot of tea and a platter of dried melon seeds and sweetmeats.

  ‘What is all this supposed to lead up to?’ she asked suspiciously.

  ‘I just want to talk my own language, for a change. Tell me, how did you come so far south?’

  ‘Not the kind of story that'd interest you,’ she said sullenly.

  ‘Let me be the judge of that. Here, have a cup.’

  She drank avidly, tasted the sweetmeats, then said gruffly:

  ‘I was foolish, and unlucky to boot. Ten years ago I fell in love with a travelling silk merchant from Kiangsu, who used to eat in my father's noodle stall, and I went off with him. It was all right, for a couple of years. I like travelling about, and he treated me well. But when his business took him here to Canton, I bore him a daughter. Of course he was very angry that it wasn't a boy, and drowned the child. Then he got interested in a local girl and wanted to get rid of me. But it's hard to sell an unskilled northern woman here. The larger flowerboats employ only Cantonese women, or northerners who are really good at singing and dancing. So he sold me for a trifle to the Tanka.’

  ‘Tanka? Who are they?’ the judge asked, curious.

  She quickly stuffed a whole sweetmeat into her mouth, then mumbled:

  ‘They are also called simply the “waterfolk”, quite a different people, you see. The Cantonese despise them. They say they are descended from the savages who lived here more than a thousand years ago, before we Chinese came south. They must stay on their boats moored on the river near the custom-house. It's there that they are born, copulate and die. They are not allowed to dwell on land, or to intermarry with Chinese.

  Judge Dee nodded. He now remembered that the Tanka were a class of outcasts, subject to special laws severely restricting their activities.

  ‘I had to work in one of their floating brothels,’ she went on, now completely at ease. ‘The bastards speak a queer language all of their own, jabbering like monkeys. You should hear them! And their women are always messing about with all kinds of dirty drugs and poisons. Those people vented their resentment against the Chinese on me; for food I got left-overs, for clothing nothing but a dirty loin cloth. The main customers were foreign sailors, for no Chinese brothel would admit them, of course. So you can imagine the kind of life I had there!’ She sniffed, and took another sweetmeat.

  ‘The Tanka are afraid of their own women because half of them are witches, but me they treated like the lowest of slaves. At their drunken orgies I had to do disgusting dances for them stark naked, for hours on end, getting my behind smacked with a paddle every time I wanted to rest. And their women shouted insults at me all the time, saying that all Chinese girls are sluts, and that Chinese men prefer Tanka women. Their favourite boast was that eighty years ago a Chinese of mark had married secretly a Tanka woman, and that their son had become a famous warrior who addressed the Emperor as “uncle”. Can you beat that? Well, it was a relief when I was sold to a city-brothel, not exactly high-class, but at least Chinese! That's where I've been working these last five years. But I don't complain, mind you! I've had three happy years, and that's more than many a woman can say!’

  Judge Dee thought that now that he had gained her confidence, he could broach the subject he had had in mind when accosting her.

  ‘Listen,’ he said, ‘I am in rather a quandary. I was to have met here a friend of mine from up north, a couple of days ago. But I was detained up river, and arrived only this afternoon. I don't know where he's staying, but it must be nearby, for it was he who suggested this temple as meeting place. If he hasn't left the city, he must be around hereabouts. Since it's your job to pay special attention to the men who pass here, you may have seen him. A tall, good-looking fellow of about thirty, with a kind of haughty air. A small moustache, no beard or whiskers.’

  ‘You are just one day late!’ she said. ‘He came here last night, you see, at about the same time as now. Walking about as if he was looking for someone.’

  ‘Did you speak to him?’

  ‘You bet I did! I always keep on the look-out for northerners. And he was handsome, just as you said. Dressed rather poorly though, I must say. I stepped up to him, regardless. He could've had me for half the price. But no such luck, he walked on to the temple, without giving me a second look. Snooty bastard! You are quite different; you are nice! I knew that as soon as…’

  ‘Did you see him again today?’ the judge interrupted.

  ‘No, I didn't. That's why I told you you are too late. Well, you've still got me! Shall we go to my house now? I could do some of those Tanka dances for you, if you like that kind of thing.’

  ‘Not now. I want to have a look for my friend in the temple, anyway. Tell me your name and address; I may visit you later on. This is my payment in advance.’

  Smiling happily, she told him the name of the street where she lived. Judge Dee went to the counter, borrowed a writing-brush from the waiter and jotted down the address on a scrap of paper. Then he paid the bill, took leave of her and walked to the temple.

  When he was about to ascend the mar
ble stairs, Tao Gan came down to meet him.

  ‘I had a quick look around, sir,’ he said dejectedly. ‘I saw no man answering the Censor's description.’

  ‘He came here last night,’ the judge told him. ‘In disguise, apparently, just as when the agent saw him and Dr Soo. Let's have a look inside together!’ As his eye fell on the large palankeen standing by the side of the steps, with half a dozen neatly uniformed bearers squatting by it, he asked, ‘Is an important person visiting the temple?’

  ‘It's Mr Liang Foo, sir. A monk told me that he comes here regularly to play chess with the abbot. I met Mr Liang in the corridor and tried to slip by him, but the fellow has sharp eyes. He recognized me at once and asked me whether he could be of any assistance. I told him that I was just sightseeing.’

  ‘I see. Well, we have to be doubly careful, Tao Gan. For the Censor is evidently conducting a secret investigation here, and we mustn't give him away by inquiring too openly about him.’ He told him what the prostitute had said. ‘We'll just walk about, and try to discover him by ourselves.’

  They soon realized, however, that their task was even more difficult than they had imagined. The temple compound counted numerous separate buildings and chapels, connected by a network of narrow corridors and passages. Monks and novices were about everywhere, mixing with the laymen from the country who were gaping at the large gilded statues and the gorgeous paintings on the walls. They saw no one who resembled the Censor.

  After they had admired the larger than life-size statue of the Goddess of Mercy in the main hall, they went to explore the buildings at the back of the compound. At last they came to a large hall where a memorial service was in progress. In front of the altar, piled with offerings, six monks were sitting on their round prayer cushions intoning prayers. Near the entrance knelt a small group of neatly dressed men and women, evidently the relatives of the deceased. Behind them stood an elderly monk, who was watching the proceedings with a bored air.

  Judge Dee decided that they would have to ask about the Censor, after all. They now had looked everywhere, except in the pagoda which was hermetically closed, because formerly someone had committed suicide by jumping down from the top storey. He walked up to the elderly monk and gave him a description of the Censor.

  ‘No, I haven't seen him, sir. And I am practically certain that no one of that description visited the temple tonight, for till the service here began I was about in the gatehouse all the time, and I wouldn't have missed a man of such striking appearance. Well, you'll kindly excuse me now, for I am supposed to supervise this memorial service. They bring in good money, you know.’ Then he went on hurriedly, ‘A large portion of the proceeds is used for defraying the costs of the ceremonial burning of dead beggars and vagrants who leave no relations behind and don't belong to a guild. And that is only one of the many charitable undertakings the temple engages in. Hey, that reminds me! Yesterday night they brought in a dead vagabond who looked like your friend! It wasn't him, of course, for he was clad in rags!’

  The judge gave Tao Gan a startled look. He told the monk curtly:

  ‘I am an officer of the tribunal, and the man I was to meet here is a special agent, who may have disguised himself as a beggar. I want to see the body, at once.’

  The monk looked frightened. He stammered:

  ‘It's in the mortuary, in the west wing, sir. Due to be incinerated after midnight. Not on this auspicious day, of course.’ He beckoned a novice and said, ‘Take these two gentlemen to the mortuary.’

  The youngster led them to a small, deserted yard. On the other side stood a low, dark building, close to the high outer wall of the temple compound.

  The novice pushed the heavy door open and lit the candle on the window sill. On a trestle table of plain boards were lying two human shapes, wrapped from head to feet in sheets of cheap canvas.

  The novice sniffed the air with a sour face.

  ‘Good that they'll be burned tonight!’ he muttered. ‘For in this hot weather…’

  Judge Dee had not heard him. He lifted the end of the canvas covering the shape nearest him. The bloated face of a bearded man was revealed. He quickly covered it up again, then bared the head of the other corpse. He stood stock-still. Tao Gan grabbed the candle from the novice, came up to the table and let its light fall on the smooth, pale face. The topknot had got loose, thin strings of wet hair were clinging to the high forehead, but even in death the face retained its calm, haughty expression. Judge Dee swung round to the novice and barked:

  ‘Get the abbot and the prior, at once! Here, give them this !’

  He groped in his sleeve, and gave the astonished youngster one of his large red visiting cards, inscribed with his full name and rank. The novice scurried away. Judge Dee bent over the head of the dead man and carefully examined the skull. Righting himself, he said to Tao Gan: ‘I can't find any wound, not even a bruised spot. Let me hold the candle! You have a look at the body.’

  Tao Gan loosened the canvas, then took off the dead man's ragged jacket and clumsily patched trousers. Besides these he had worn nothing. Tao Gan studied the smooth-skinned, well-made body. Judge Dee looked on in silence, holding the candle high. After Tao Gan had turned the corpse over and examined the back, he shook his head.

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘there are no signs of violence, no discoloured spots, no abrasions. I'll search his clothes.’

  After he had covered up the corpse again, he went through the sleeves of the tattered jacket. ‘What have we got here?’ he exclaimed. He took from the sleeve a small cage of silver wire, about one inch square. Its side was crushed, the small door hanging loose.

  ‘That is the cage the Censor kept his cricket in,’ the judge said hoarsely. ‘Is there nothing else?’

  Tao Gan looked again. ‘Nothing at all!’ he muttered.

  Voices sounded outside. The door was pushed open by a monk who ushered in respectfully a heavily built, imposing figure in a long saffron robe. A purple stole was draped over his shoulders. As he made a low bow, the light of the candle shone on his round, closely shaved head. The prior knelt down by the abbot's side.

  As Judge Dee saw by the door a group of other monks trying to peer inside, he snapped at the abbot:

  ‘I said you and your prior, didn't I? Send all those other fellows away!’

  The frightened abbot opened his mouth but brought out only incoherent sounds. It was the prior who turned round and shouted at the monks to make themselves scarce.

  ‘Close the door!’ Judge Dee ordered. And to the abbot, ‘Calm yourself, man!’ Pointing at the corpse, he asked, ‘How did this man die?’

  The abbot recollected himself. He replied in a trembling voice:

  ‘We…we are completely ignorant of the cause of death, Excellency! These poor men are brought here dead, we have them burned as a charitable…’

  ‘You are supposed to know the law,’ the judge cut him short. ‘You are not allowed to incinerate any corpse, gratis or otherwise, without having checked the death certificate and submitted it to the tribunal for inspection.’

  ‘But the tribunal sent the corpse here, Excellency!’ the prior wailed. ‘Two constables brought it last night, on a stretcher. They said it was a dead vagrant of unknown identity. I myself signed the receipt!’

  ‘That's different,’ Judge Dee said curtly. ‘You two may leave now. Stay in your quarters. I may want to question you again, later tonight.’

  When they had scrambled to their feet and left, the judge said to Tao Gan:

  ‘I must know where and how the constables found him, and I also want to see the coroner's report. Strange that the constables left that silver cage in his sleeve; it's a valuable antique piece. Go to the tribunal at once, Tao Gan, and question the Prefect, his coroner, and the men who found the body. Tell them to have the body removed to the palace. Just say that the dead man was a secret investigator from the capital, sent here on my orders. I'll go back to the palace after I have had another look around here.’

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sp; VIII

  When Chiao Tai's litter was set down at the side gate of the palace, it was already one hour before midnight. He had told the bearers to bring him there by a round about way, hoping that the night air would cool his brain. It had been a forlorn hope.

  He found Judge Dee sitting all alone at his large desk. His chin in his cupped hands, he was studying the large city map spread out before him. When Chiao Tai had greeted him, the judge said in a tired voice:

  ‘Sit down! We have found the Censor. Murdered.’

  He told Chiao Tai about Tao Gan's talk with the blind girl, and how the clue of the Golden Bell had made them discover the Censor's dead body in the temple. Cutting short Chiao Tai's excited questions, he pursued:

  ‘After the dead body had been brought here, I had the Governor's physician perform a thorough autopsy. He found that the Censor had been poisoned, by an insidious drug that is not mentioned in our medical books. For the only people who know how to prepare it are the Tanka, who inhabit the river boats. If administered in a large dose, the victim dies practically at once; a small dose causes only a general fatigue, but death ensues in a couple of weeks. It can only be traced by examining the condition of the throat. If the Governor's physician hadn't happened to have treated a case recently among the Tanka, he would never have traced the poison, and death would have been ascribed to a heart attack.’