The Phantom Of The Temple

by Robert Van Gulik

  ‘Exactly, Hoong. We can skip the other cells. The murderer will have gone on to the tower, to see whether there’s a hollow space under the floor. He-‘

  ‘Come and have a look, please, Your Honour!’ another constable said. ‘Half of the floor in the cell opposite has been taken up!’

  They quickly followed him. Six tiles in the centre of the cell had been removed and neatly piled up in the corner. Judge Dee rubbed his finger over the one on top: it was covered with a thin film of dust. ‘Let’s have a look at the other cells, men!’

  They found that the floor of every single cell had been tampered with. In some cells the tiles had been neatly replaced, in others they had been carelessly thrown into a corner.

  ‘On to the tower!’ the judge ordered. He passed through the door-opening at the end of the corridor and entered the spacious octagonal hall that constituted the ground floor of the west tower. Here the floor had not been tampered with.

  ‘Stands to reason,’ Judge Dee muttered. ‘These slabs are fixed into a layer of cement. You need a pickaxe to make a hole here. But look at the wainscoting!’

  In several places the mouldering wooden boards that covered the brick wall had been torn down, disclosing an intervening space of about two inches.

  ‘I don’t understand why …’ the sergeant began, perplexed.

  ‘I do,’ the judge interrupted gruffly. ‘You inspect the staircase and the two floors above, men. Come along, Sergeant! We’ll climb up to the top, to get some fresh air!’

  They went up the creaking stairs, carefully stepping round the holes that gaped where a mouldering step had dropped out.

  A narrow balcony went around the tower’s top floor, under the overhanging eaves of the pointed roof. Judge Dee stood at the low balustrade. Folding his hands in his wide sleeves, he stared at the mass of green treetops below. After a while he turned to the sergeant and said, with a smile:

  ‘Sorry that I was so short with you downstairs, Hoong. This is really a most vexing case. Now we have obtained our first clue, but that seems to have no bearing at all upon our murder! This temple was searched, and very thoroughly too. But not for a place to hide a body and a severed head, and not yesterday, but some time ago. The object of the search was something small, not larger than a few inches square, I’d say.’

  The sergeant nodded slowly. Then he asked, ‘How do you know that the object they were looking for was so small, sir?’

  ‘Well, when the searcher had lifted the tiles in the first cell, and found that the layer of earth underneath was only five or six inches thick, he examined the floor of every other cell, hoping to find something buried there. Then he went on to search the empty space behind the wainscoting, and that is only a few inches from the brick wall, as you saw just now.’ He thought a few moments, then resumed: ‘I also think that the search was conducted independently by two different persons. One had much experience in this work; he tried to cover up his searching by carefully replacing the tiles. The other didn’t care, he just threw the discarded tiles into a corner, and tore down the wainscoting.’

  ‘You said that this search for a hidden object has no bearing on our case, sir. But we know that Seng-san used to frequent this temple. There might be a link between the murder and the search, even though the search took place long before the murder was committed.’

  ‘Yes, you are right, Hoong! That’s a possibility we must seriously consider. Perhaps Seng-san and the other man were murdered because they found what a second party had been looking for in vain!’ He considered for a while, stroking his long beard. ‘As to our missing body and severed head, we won’t find those inside. You’ll have noticed that there isn’t a drop of blood anywhere, nor any signs of blood having been wiped up.’ He pointed at the treetops below. ‘The obvious place to look for those remains is in that wilderness there. Quite a job, for from here you can see clearly how large the temple grounds are. Well, we’d better go down again.’

  The three constables who had been inspecting the floors below reported that they had found no traces of a search having been conducted there. The walls had no wainscoting, and the bricks had not been tampered with.

  The headman was standing in the hall, wiping his dirt-smeared, moist face with his neckcloth. His men were standing around him, talking in whispers.

  ‘Someone has been tampering with the floors and the walls, sir,’ he reported with a crestfallen look. ‘But we didn’t find any sign of a large box.’

  ‘It must have been buried somewhere in the garden, headman. By the way, where does that narrow door near the altar over there lead to? I saw no back gate in the surrounding wall when I was standing on the top floor of the west tower.’

  ‘The door leads to the narrow space behind the hall, Your Honour. Formerly there was a gate in the wall, but it has been bricked up for many years.’

  ‘All right. Take all your men to the garden. Look for a spot where some digging has been done recently. In the meantime we shall pay a visit to the Hermitage, Sergeant.’

  While crossing the front yard, Judge Dee said, ‘The murderer must have had an accomplice, Hoong. To drag Seng-san’s body all the way outside, smear blood on Ah-liu’s jacket, then bury the body and the other man’s head somewhere in that dense wilderness-that isn’t exactly a one-man job! Two murderers, and no motive! I don’t like this at all, Hoong.’

  They passed through the triple gate and took the footpath running along the front of the temple’s outer wall.

  Judge Dee resumed: ‘In times of political unrest, Buddhist monks often bury golden statues and other valuable objects of worship in order to prevent their being stolen. If there should be such a buried treasure in this deserted temple, then we would have a sound motive. The only trouble is that I have never heard a buried treasure mentioned in connection with this particular place!’

  ‘Perhaps someone happened to discover a note about that in some old, forgotten record, sir.’

  ‘Yes, there’s a lot in that, Hoong! Suppose that the man then engaged three or four scoundrels to help him to make a secret search for the hidden treasure? If Seng-san and the other man were among them, and tried to keep the whole loot for themselves, that would give the others a good motive for murdering them. This theory would establish a logical link between the search and the murders.’

  The path entered the wooded patch between the temple and the Hermitage. The judge halted and turned round.

  ‘From here we have a good view of the entire temple. The hill goes down rather steeply directly behind the back wall. That’s why the path leading down to the highway makes all those sharp turns. We must try to learn more about the history of the temple, Hoong. When we are back in the tribunal, I want you to investigate the old files in the chancery. Find out when exactly the authorities ordered the inmates to evacuate the temple, who the Abbot was and where he went, and whether there was ever any rumour about buried treasure.’

  After a few minutes’ walk through the forest they saw the neatly plastered wall of the Hermitage, a small one-storeyed temple built in purely Chinese style. The roof was decked with green-glazed tiles; the curved ridge ended in upturned points shaped like dragon-tails. They heard faintly the quacking of ducks. Except for that there was only the constant drone of the cicadas.

  Sergeant Hoong rattled the knocker of polished copper on the red-lacquered gate. After he had repeated this several times, the peephole opened and a girl’s face appeared behind the grating. She studied the two visitors suspiciously with her large, alert eyes, then asked sharply:

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘We are from the tribunal,’ the sergeant told her. ‘Open up!’

  The girl admitted them to a small paved yard. Evidently she was the maid, for she wore a simple dark-blue jacket and wide trousers of the same material. Judge Dee noticed that she had a common but rather pretty face; there were dimples in her round cheeks. The grey flagstones of the yard were scrupulously clean and had been sprinkled with water to keep th
e air cool. On the left stood a small building of red brick, on the right a larger one with a veranda. The walls of the temple hall at the back were plastered a spotless white and the pillars supporting the curved eaves were lacquered red. Beside the well in the corner stood a rack carrying a row of potted plants, and on the highest shelf a few porcelain vases with tastefully arranged flowers. The judge recognized the style of flower arrangement practised by his wives and guessed that these were the work of the Abbess. The subtle fragrance of orchids drifted in the air. The judge reflected that, after the deserted temple, these refined surroundings were a pleasant change indeed.

  ‘Well,’ the girl asked impatiently, ‘what can I do for you, sir?’

  ‘Take my visiting-card to the Abbess,’ Judge Dee said, groping in his sleeve.

  ‘The Abbess is sleeping,’ she said sullenly. ‘Tonight she has to go to the city, to attend a party in the magistrate’s residence. If you insist, I shall …’

  ‘Oh no,’ Judge Dee said quickly. ‘I came only to inquire whether you heard or saw anything unusual last night. Some vagabonds were making trouble in the deserted temple. About midnight.’

  ‘About midnight? ‘ she scoffed. Indicating the buildings with a sweeping gesture, she went on: ‘All this I have to keep clean, all alone by myself, mind you! It’s a very small temple, but there are a lot of knick-knacks on the altar that need to be dusted. Do you think I feel like sitting up late at night after a day’s hard work?’

  ‘Do you also do all the shopping?’ the judge asked curiously. ‘If you have to go up and down that staircase every day-‘

  ‘I go only once a week for the soy, salt and bean curd. We don’t eat meat or fish-worse luck!’

  ‘I hear the quacking of ducks, though.’

  Her face softened.

  ‘Those are mine. The Abbess lets me keep them, for the eggs. They are ever so cute, the small ones… .’ She checked herself and asked curtly, ‘Anything else I can do for you?’

  ‘Not at this time. Come along, Hoong. Let’s see how things are progressing at the temple.’

  ‘What a pert young hussy!’ the sergeant remarked when they were walking through the wood again.

  The judge shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘She’s fond of ducks, and that is something, at least. Well, I am glad to have seen the Hermitage. The elegant atmosphere confirms the high opinion my ladies have of the Abbess.’

  The headman and two constables were sitting on the steps of the main hall, looking hot and dishevelled. They jumped up when they saw Judge Dee enter the courtyard.

  ‘No use, Your Honour! I’d swear that no one has been into that accursed wilderness over there for a long, long time! There isn’t even a pathway. And there are no traces of any digging that we could see. The other men are still trying to get through by skirting the outer wall.’

  Judge Dee sat down on a large boulder in the shadow of the wall and began to fan himself vigorously.

  ‘You mentioned that the murderer must have had an accomplice, sir,’ the sergeant said after a while. ‘Couldn’t they have put the body on an improvised stretcher and carried it down the hill?’

  ‘Possible, but not very probable. They would have run the risk of meeting other vagabonds, and those are very inquisitive folk. The garden is our best bet, I think.’

  One by one the constables emerged from the garden. They shook their heads.

  The judge rose.

  ‘It’s getting late. We’d better go back to the tribunal. Seal the doors of the hall, headman. Leave two men here to guard the place. And see to it that they are relieved at nightfall.’

  Chapter 7

  Ma Joong had put on a pair of wide trousers and a patched jacket of faded blue cotton, and bound up his hair with a red rag. In that disreputable attire he would attract no undue attention in the north-west city ward, the quarter assigned to the Tartars, Indians, Uigurs and other foreign barbarians.

  It was a long walk, but he made good progress, for most of the shops were closed for the afternoon siesta and there were few people about. After he had passed the Drum Tower, however, the narrow streets became more lively: having hurriedly gobbled down their noodles at noon, the poor people living there had at once to set to work again, to scrape together the few coppers for their evening meal.

  Picking his way through the motley crowd of Central-Asian coolies and Chinese hawkers jostling one another in the smelly back streets, he at last reached the alley where Tulbee had established her soup kitchen. He saw her from afar, standing in front of the oven and scolding her elder boy, who was stirring the fire under the huge iron cauldron. Her other boy was clinging to her skirt. It was too early yet for customers. He sauntered up to her.

  ‘Ma Joong!’ she cried out happily. ‘How nice to see you again! But you look like nothing on earth! Has your boss kicked you out? I always told you that you are far too good a man to serve as thief-catcher. You should-‘

  ‘Hush!’ he interrupted. ‘I am dressed up like this because I am on a job.’

  ‘Let go, you small devil!’ she shouted, boxing the ears of the younger boy, who obstinately clung to her skirt. He promptly began to bawl at the top of his voice. His brother gave Ma Joong a scornful look, then spat into the fire. Ma Joong noticed the all too familiar smell of rancid butter, and he saw that her nose wasn’t clean. She was getting fat too. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the merciful Heaven for having spared him all this! He groped in his sleeve and brought out a string of coppers. ‘This-‘ he began. But she raised her hand and said, pouting:

  ‘Shame on you, Ma Joong! You offering me money for it, you of all people!’ But she put the coppers in her sleeve anyway, and went on: ‘My husband is away for the day, so we can have a nice long chat up in my room. The boys’ll mind the shop and-‘

  ‘I told you I am out on a job!’ he said quickly. “The money is for information received, as they say! Let’s sit down on that bench there.’

  ‘Come along up!’ she said, grabbing his hand with a determined expression. ‘You’ll get your information, garnished! It’s nice to be out of the business, of course, but … well, there’s something in variety too. And you know how I feel about you, Ma Joong!’ She cast a meaningful look at the door.

  He pressed her down on the bench and took a seat close by her.

  ‘Next time, dear. I am in a hurry, honestly! I am supposed to find out about a quarrel some of your people had with Seng-san, that’s a bully from the quarter near the east gate. A real bad quarrel, you know. Seng-san got his head chopped off.’

  ‘Our boys don’t mix with Chinese riff-raff,’ she said sullenly. ‘How could they, not understanding each other’s language?’ Brightening up, she asked, ‘You remember how you used to teach me Chinese, Ma Joong?’

  ‘I certainly do!’ he said, grinning in spite of himself. ‘Well, I am not saying your people did anything bad, mind you. My boss just wants to prevent further trouble; he likes to keep an orderly house, as they say in the business. Come on, think girl! Didn’t you overhear your customers mention a fight in the old temple, outside the east gate?’

  She pensively picked her nose. Then she said, slowly, ‘The only big thing I heard of recently is the killing of a Tartar chieftain, over the border. In settlement of a blood-feud.’ She gave him a sidelong glance and added, ‘Your mentioning a temple reminded me of something. Four streets down lives a weird woman, a Tartar sorceress. Tala, her name is. A real witch, knows past and future. If ever one of our people wants to start something big, he consults her first. She knows everything, Ma Joong, absolutely everything! But that doesn’t mean she tells what she knows! The people are getting sour with her, nowadays. They maintain she gives out wrong advice, perhaps on purpose. If they weren’t so afraid of her, they’d… .’ She slit her forefinger across her throat.

  ‘How do I get there?’

  ‘Stop meddling with that oven!’ Tulbee shouted at her eldest son. ‘Take Mr Ma to Tala!’ As Ma Joong rose she whispered, quickly:
‘Look sharp, Ma Joong! It’s a bad neighbourhood!’

  MA JOONG MEETS AN OLD GIRL FRIEND

  ‘I’ll take good care of myself! Thanks ever so much!’

  The crooked alley the boy took him to was lined by one-storeyed houses with sagging mud walls and roughly-made thatched roofs. After he had pointed out a somewhat larger house half-way down that had a pointed roof vaguely reminiscent of a Tartar tent, the boy scurried away. The only people about were three Tartars, squatting with their backs against the wall opposite the house of the sorceress. They wore baggy leather trousers with broad belts; their muscular torsos were bare. The midday sun shone on their round heads, closely shaven but for one long lock of hair at the back. When Ma Joong passed them, one said in broken Chinese to his companions, ‘She even receives Chinese scum nowadays!’

  Studiously ignoring the insult, Ma Joong pulled the greasy door-curtain aside. In the dark interior he vaguely discerned two shapes huddled over a small fire that was burning in a hole in the floor of stamped earth. Since they didn’t pay the slightest attention to him, he sat down on a low stool just inside the door opening. He couldn’t see much, for his eyes had not yet adjusted themselves after the glare of the sun outside. The cool air was scented with an outlandish incense that reminded him of a pharmacy; he thought it might be camphor wood. The hooded figure squatting with her back towards him kept up a long monologue in a foreign, guttural tongue. It was an old crone, clad in a Tartar felt coat. The woman facing her on the other side of the fire seemed to be seated on a low chair. He couldn’t make out her shape, for she was entirely enveloped in a long, shapeless cloak that hung from her shoulders down to the floor. Her head was bare; a mass of long, black hair cascaded down over her shoulders and half screened her downcast face. The sorceress was listening to the voice of the old crone, which droned on and on.