Sherlock Holmes and The Nine-Dragon Sigil

by Tim Symonds

  I soon discovered the Manchu are direct and open, and while the Chinese are imperturbable for much of the time they are natural pantomimists. There was little difficulty in gauging where a patient’s complaint lay. After politely expressing respect for my absent parents and other deceased ancestors they contorted their faces and used violent gestures to point me. Other patients clustered around with a charming gravity, in voluble conversation over my tricks with spatula or stethoscope, intervening at will.

  I made no charge to the poor though a donation was suggested from the better-off for Alicia Neva Little’s anti-foot-binding campaigns. The Manchu Empress Dowager regularly issued proclamations against the profoundly damaging practice of foot-binding much practiced by the Han, though with little effect as yet. I became accustomed to rows of silent amahs outside the Temple waiting to help their tottering foot-bound mistresses back to their sedans. As yet I have collected nothing for this cause. The Chinese do not pay doctors for their good intentions but in accordance with their results. For chronic ailments this takes time.

  I had an exceptionally disturbing visit from a woman who came from afar, carried pick-a-back to my door by a man servant and deposited on the bare floor. Both feet had mortified off through the barbarous practice of foot-binding. The man servant handed me a large jar filled with a clear liquid, an alcoholic beverage, in which I could see the dark-brown remains of her mummified feet. The tiny toenails had fallen away and swayed gently at the bottom of the jar. She was heart-rendingly sure a foreign doctor would fasten the feet on her again.

  Not once in these first few days did anyone bring a child despite the fact I could observe the entire gamut of childhood afflictions on a short walk along any of the Capital’s narrow, filthy lanes, or that dog-bites were everyday occurrences among young and old alike. I remarked to Wang Feng about the absence of child-patients. He pointed at the Aeroscope camera.

  ‘The Chinese believe foreigners take out children’s eyes and use the retro bulbar fat for photographs or worse.’

  One day during a lull in patients Wang bowed and said, ‘Venerable and Respected Sir, Dr. Watson, I have a favour to ask.’

  His tone was diffident. I responded with an encouraging wave.

  He went on, ‘I am ambitious. I want to become like Sir Sherlock. I want to solve the most difficult cases like you do in England. Catch criminals who offend against society. One day I aspire to become the yushi dafu, Censor-in-chief. I want to be the highest-ranking state official supervising and controlling the officialdom of the Empire. Only then can I help wipe out so much corruption among our state officials.’

  ‘I commend your ambition, Wang,’ I replied, smiling at the rushed confession, ‘but how can I help?’

  ‘I was wondering if you could intercede with Sir Sherlock. The whole of China has heard of him. If he could spare time to teach me what he knows, the word would get around I was once the student of the greatest Consulting Detective in Europe. It would speed my advance. Otherwise,’ his face fell, ‘otherwise I shall never make my descendants as proud of me as I am of my esteemed ancestor the Judge Bao Zheng who lived nine centuries ago. If I am ever to live up to my family’s hopes I have to attain the highest degree, the jinshi.’

  He paused and said, ‘You may wonder why I am only on the first rung. Purchasing sacrificial animals for the High Court is not an especially difficult exercise. By now I should be at least on Chung - purifying troops, salt control, inspecting frontier passes.’

  ‘Wang, you are very clever and your English is very commendable,’ I replied. ‘I have no doubt you can get to the top. Out of interest, why are you only on the first rung?’

  ‘In China, advance is achieved only if you pass the Imperial examinations. There are three tiers, local, provincial and Court exams. They are not based on scientific expertise. They are based on knowledge of the classics and literary style. There are many who blame the imperial system for China’s lack of technical knowledge and our defeat by foreign powers. I made my way easily through the preliminary examinations. I passed first in my year for the degree of Budding Talent.

  Then my mother became ill. She died even though she was still young. We Chinese are entangled by the claims of family and the chains of immemorial custom. Piety towards parents is the greatest virtue. When a parent dies, we must mourn for twenty-seven months. Under Chinese law we are not allowed even to beget a son during those months. As a son myself I was obliged to follow the strict rituals of mourning. So I abandoned my exams and remained at home for more than two years.’

  ‘I’m sure Sir Sherlock will oblige any descendant of Bao Zheng,’ I told him.

  ***

  My report was in the General’s hands. No word was forthcoming from the Summer Palace on when we could leave China. Holmes had discovered not the sniff of a plot against the Empress Dowager or the Emperor. To fill in the evening I attended the Crime Detection tutorial Holmes agreed to provide Wang.

  Holmes began, ‘Depending on how long we remain here we shall cover a range of topics including how to avoid the Bull-in-the-China-shop approach to the crime scene so often a characteristic of self-styled experts in the art of detection. We shall discuss firearms identification, finger-print identification - the treatment of handwriting, paper and inks and features of documents, fibres and hair. Not a grain of dust should be moved, not a soul should be allowed to approach, no rummaging by investigators until the scientific observer has seen everything absolutely undisturbed and in situ.’

  Holmes gave a slight smile.

  ‘Investigating Censor Wang, today’s instruction will cover the autopsy. I realize the way we perform our autopsies may horrify the people of your country, nevertheless to us the autopsy is commonplace. It constitutes one of the most important processes in the detection of crime. The only invasion of the corpse you allow are silver needles inserted into the body to elicit evidence of poison if the silver turns black. That would not be accepted as credible evidence in Europe or America.

  Where a suspicious death has occurred the autopsy is a practice of great value and a necessity in the investigation of whether the deceased died through natural causes, for example myocardial infarction resulting from coronary artery disease, or from a particular injury - a bullet wound to the head, manual or ligature strangulation, poisoning, exsanguination caused by a stab wound, and so on.

  The Procedure: the pathologist weighs and measures the body, notes the subject’s clothing, valuables and characteristics such as eye colour, hair colour and length, race, sex and age. He removes the subject’s clothes, examines the body, searches for gunpowder residue, paint flakes or other deposits, or identifying marks such as scars or tattoos, and of course injuries. Bodily fluids - urine, blood, vitreous gel from the eyes, bile from the gallbladder - are extracted and sent to a technician for analysis for drugs, infection, or chemical composition. If necessary the pathologist removes and dissects the chest, abdominal and pelvic organs, and possibly the brain.

  The Organs: organs, especially the brain, are sometimes placed in formalin for days or weeks before the dissection is conducted. Finally, the body is lined with cotton wool and sewn shut with a special stitch. If the organs are to be returned to the body, they are placed in bags to prevent leakage. The corpse is then washed and prepared for the funeral.’

  Footwear. ‘There is no branch of detective science,’ he told Wang, ‘which is so important and so much neglected as the art of tracing footwear marks. I place footwear high on a list of 40 evidence types,’ together with expert comment on gunshot residue, hand-writing, stains, dust, the shape and position of wounds, bite marks and a theory of cryptograms.

  A further technical session was titled ‘Upon The Distinction between Ashes of Various Tobaccos’. To Holmes’s trained eye there was a great difference between the ash of a Trichinopoly and the fluff of Bird’s Eye shag tobacco. It was he who first studied a flake o
f Latakia and other tobaccos. Tobacco ash was hardly ever examined by the police except to say ‘There was someone here who smoked cigarettes.’

  ‘However,’ Holmes told Wang, ‘if you can say definitely that a crime has been committed by a man smoking an Indian cigar, that at once narrows down your search for the culprit.’

  A puff of chalk went up as Holmes slapped his hands together.

  ‘Tomorrow evening we’ll resume with a detailed description of physiological materials for identification, such as blood, hair, tissues and semen.’

  He turned to me.

  ‘Watson, for Mr. Wang’s edification, you may now take over on the topic of Evidence Photography.’

  I spent a half-hour describing the Dark Room for processing photographic materials, special lighting, luminescent tests for blood and so on.

  For the rest of the week Holmes presented an attentive Wang with a series of lectures which my comrade planned to incorporate more fully into his Magnum Opus-to-be, ‘The Whole Art Of Observation And Detection’.

  It was quickly apparent listening to Holmes that by contrast with Scotland Yard detectives he paid great attention to the mundane. Mud and soil from various districts - Sussex clays, for example - would one day become classified much after the manner that Holmes was describing.

  The final session described the modus operandi of well-known English and Continental burglars, the tell-tale way they employed nickel-plaited jemmies, adaptable keys, diamond-tipped glass cutters, rubber-soled shoes and black silk masks. This practical method of instruction justified itself abundantly. Wang was proving an excellent student.

  There was no word as yet on when Holmes and I could pack up our goods and chattels and return to England.

  Chapter VIII

  I Receive an Urgent Summons from the Empress Dowager

  I was about to settle in for the night when I received an urgent summons to attend the Empress Dowager. I was to be carried in the dark the six miles to the Marble Boat on the grounds of the Summer Palace, the porters’ feet muffled with sackcloth to dull their noise in the empty streets. It turned out to be less a boat than a concrete two-story lakeside pavilion with fake paddlewheels on each side, imitating the sailing boats of the former Emperor Qianlong. Large mirrors were fixed on each deck to enable Cixi to watch dragonflies floating over the pink chalices and velvet leaves of the lotus flowers as she sipped her afternoon tea according to the season, Dragon well green tea for spring, Jasmine Green tea for summer and Puer tea for winter.

  I was hurried aboard to find the Empress Dowager bending over the still body of a pug. Her voice trembling with emotion she begged, ‘Dr. Watson, can you bring ‘Shadza’ back to life?’

  In answer to my quick questioning, the Empress said the Pekingese had shown signs of distress over a period of two or three days, with prolonged convulsions, severe metabolic acidosis and respiratory distress.

  The breed was of exceptional importance to the autarchs of China. Teams of eunuchs looked after the little dogs and bathed them. They were fed the highest grade rice and meat. They slept in marble kennels lined with silk cushions, guarded by their own eunuch.

  Over the centuries the Palace bred them smaller and smaller until the owners could carry the tiny creatures concealed in the billowing sleeves of their owners’ silk robes. In the 2nd Century Emperor Lingdi of Han conferred a scholarly title on his favourite ‘Lion Dog’, making it a member of the nobility, and thereby starting a centuries-long trend of honouring imperial dogs with noble rank. If an ordinary person happened to cross paths with a Lion Dog he had to bow to it.

  I bent down and pressed on Shadza’s rib-cage. There was only the slightest response. A cursory examination indicated the creature was beyond resuscitation. The symptoms pointed to a powerful toxin. Even while I kneeled at the dog’s side shaking my head there came the sound of breath exhaling and the animal was dead. The eunuch escorted me back along the passage and launched me back into the outer world. Such was the Empress Dowager’s grief, she ordered the entire High Court to go into three days of mourning.

  Back at our lodgings Holmes’s lanterns were still lit. I knocked on his door and put my head in. He had a copy of the North China Herald in his hand. Even here in China he read the English-language press avidly and took cuttings.

  ‘The Empress Dowager’s favourite dog Shadza,’ I said.

  The snick of office shears continued.

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘It’s died,’ I said. ‘Just now. Most likely poisoned. What’s so idiotic is they let it suffer for three or four days.’

  The Herald lowered.

  I continued, ‘If I’d been called in at once I could have emptied the creature’s stomach in time to save it and perhaps discover what toxin it ingested.’

  ‘And?’

  Holmes was staring at me with an unusually alert expression.

  ‘That’s it. It’s dead. I offered to perform an autopsy to find out what killed it. The Old Buddha seemed quite put out at the idea of cutting it open. Presumably even the Palace dogs need to be intact when they mount the Dragon-chariot for the journey to canine afterlife. There were,’ I added, ‘some bodily fluids on the dog’s hair. I said by swabbing them I might be able to throw light on why it died. She refused even that.’

  ***

  With the Palaces in official if insincere three-day mourning for Shadza I was able to decide my movements for myself. Wang Feng had noticed my impatience to return to England. He suggested a photographic subject for the ‘off-duty’ afternoon. Would I please bring the Lizars 1/4 Plate Challenge camera. He wanted to show me a display of purple bamboo set in a mountain-water landscaped garden near the Imperial Canal.

  I found him at the water’s edge in conversation with a man holding a large Saker falcon with a bell attached. The acquaintance was from Huailai where falcons and goshawks are trained to hunt hares and game birds.

  ‘He’s on his way to the Palace,’ Wang explained. ‘Falcons bred in Hebei Province have been a part of aristocratic culture here for more than 600 years. This bird has been constantly exposed to people and human surroundings, and dogs used in the hunt. My friend will get the best price through Chief Eunuch Li. In turn Li will sell it on to a member of the Royal Court for five times more.’

  I beckoned Wang to a nearby bench. Before photographing the purple bamboo I wanted to question him about the Empress Dowager. I knew he was more at ease away from the prying eyes and hidden ears of the Forbidden City. Inside the city walls it was as though behind every stall, every partition, lurked a sharp-eared eunuch ready to report our words to the Summer Palace. Nevertheless, he picked his words carefully.

  ‘She is revered by millions,’ he replied. ‘They call her ‘the Dragon Lady’. Dragons have the characteristics of nine other creatures: a lion’s mane, scales like a fish, a long tail like a snake, claws like a hawk, eyes like a shrimp, antlers like a deer, a big mouth like a bull, a nose like a dog, a beard like a catfish. I must show you the Nine-Dragon Wall. Through their prowess, their ferocity, their beauty, and the harmony of the opposites, dragons excite awe and admiration. They live at the bottom of seas, rivers, lakes, or anywhere with water. Chinese dragons don’t have wings but they can fly into the sky. They don’t breathe fire but can summon rain. And like the tiger, if they so wish they embody the spirit and drive to achieve and make progress. They are regarded as one of the four super-intelligent creatures. The other three are the tiger, the phoenix and the tortoise. All people of the Middle Kingdom consider themselves the descendants of the Chinese dragon.’

  ‘Is the Dragon Lady’s reputation for pitilessness deserved?’ I asked.

  ‘Many say so,’ came the reply. ‘Certainly she has become fiercer since the outside Powers intervened to put down the Boxer Rebellion seven years ago. She fled in disguise. She was lucky to survive. The loss of Miàn zi - Im
perial Face - was terrible. She never wants that to happen again. Since then she has feared every day for her life. It’s said she no longer pays proper attention even to the people’s Memorials. If so it’s very bad for China - and for her. Without question she is most dangerous when her fears reach a crescendo. It is then she seeks blood.’

  ‘Does she have good reason to be fearful?’ I pursued.

  ‘In her mind she does. Many dissidents favour the restoration of the Kuang-hsü Emperor’s power because he is ready for change. She has set her face against change. She has disappointed many people, especially the young. Secret associations such as the Dragonflower Society conspire against her. Exiles everywhere - in Japan, America, Europe - are organising high-level assassination groups. The ones in Japan have formed connections with Russian anarchists who teach them how to make bombs. Even your and Sir Sherlock’s lives are at risk whenever you are with her.’

  He pointed at a small steamer moored on the far bank.

  ‘That was a present from Japan. Her Majesty named it Yong-he - Forever Peace. Once upon a time she took it every day for the journey between the Summer Palace and the city. But she hasn’t stepped aboard since a well-known conspirator by the name of Tiejun found his way back to Peking from exile and clambered unseen up the anchor chain in the night, intending to attack her. He was spotted, arrested, transported to General Yuán’s garrison in Tianjin and eliminated in secret. Her Majesty can be very cruel. It’s said he died a very slow and painful death.’

  ‘But you say it was General Yuán who ordered the execution?’ I asked.