He shrugged his shoulders. All had gone well. It was past midnight; no one would come to this lonely country house on the outskirts of the city. And in the dark house at the other end of the garden nothing stirred. He examined his hands-there was no trace of blood. Then he stooped and scrutinized the floor of the pavilion, and the chair he had been sitting on opposite the dead man. No, he hadn’t left any clue. He could leave now, all was safe.
Suddenly, he heard a plopping sound behind him. He swung round, startled. Then he sighed with relief; it was only a large, green frog. It had jumped up out of the pond on to the marble steps of the pavilion. Now it sat there looking up at him solemnly with its blinking, protruding eyes.
‘You can’t talk, bastard!’ the man sneered. ‘But I’ll make double-sure!’ So speaking, he gave the frog a vicious kick that smashed it against the table leg. The animal’s long hindlegs twitched, then it lay still. The man picked up the second wine cup, the one his victim had been drinking from. He examined it, then he put it in his wide sleeve. Now he was ready. As he turned to go, his eye fell on the dead frog.
‘Join your comrades!’ he said with contempt and kicked it into the water. It fell with a splash among the lotus plants. At once the croaking of hundreds of frightened frogs tore the quiet night.
The man cursed violently. He quickly crossed the curved bridge that led over the pond to the garden gate. After he had slipped outside and pulled the gate shut, the frogs grew quiet again.
A few hours later three horsemen were riding along the lake road, back to the city. The red glow of dawn shone on their brown hunting-robes and black caps. A cool morning breeze rippled the surface of the lake, but soon it would grow hot, for it was midsummer.
The broad-shouldered, bearded man said with a smile to his thin, elderly companion, ‘Our duck-hunt suggested a good method for catching wily criminals! You set up a decoy, then stay in hiding with your clap-net ready. When your bird shows up, you net him!’
Four peasants walking in the opposite direction quickly set down the loads of vegetables they were carrying, and knelt down by the roadside. They had recognized the bearded man: it was Judge Dee, the magistrate of the lake-district of Han-yuan.
‘We did a powerful lot of clapping among the reeds, sir,’ the stalwart man who was riding behind them remarked wryly. ‘But all we got was a few waterplants!’
‘Anyway it was good exercise, Ma Joong!’ Judge Dee said over his shoulder to his lieutenant. Then he went on to the thin man riding by his side: ‘If we did this every morning, Mr Yuan, we’d never need your pills and powders!’
The thin man smiled bleakly. His name was Yuan Kai, and he was the wealthy owner of the largest pharmacy in Judge Dee’s district. Duck-hunting was his favourite sport.
Judge Dee drove his horse on, and soon they entered the city of Han-yuan, built against the mountain slope. At the market place, in front of the Temple of Confucius, the three men dismounted; then they climbed the stone steps leading up to the street where the tribunal stood, overlooking the city and the lake.
Ma Joong pointed at the squat man standing in front of the monumental gate of the tribunal. ‘Heavens!’ he growled, ‘I have never seen our good headman up so early. I fear he must be gravely ill!’
The headman of the constables came running towards them. He made a bow, then said excitedly to the judge, ‘The poet Meng Lan has been murdered, Your Honour! Half an hour ago his servant came rushing here and reported that he had found his master’s dead body in the garden pavilion.’
‘Meng Lan? A poet?’ Judge Dee said with a frown. ‘In the year I have been here in Han-yuan I have never even heard the name.’
‘He lives in an old country house, near the marsh to the east of the city, sir,’ the pharmacist said. ‘He is not very well known here; he rarely comes to the city. But I heard that in the capital his poetry is praised highly by connoisseurs.’
‘We’d better go there at once,’ the judge said. ‘Have Sergeant Hoong and my two other lieutenants come back yet, Headman?’
‘No sir, they are still in the village near the west boundary of our district. Just after Your Honour left this morning, a man came with a note from Sergeant Hoong. It said that they hadn’t yet found a single clue to the men who robbed the treasury messenger.’
Judge Dee tugged at his long beard. ‘That robbery is a vexing case!’ he said testily. ‘The messenger was carrying a dozen gold bars. And now we have a murder on our hands too! Well, we’ll manage, Ma Joong. Do you know the way to the dead poet’s country place?’
‘I know a short-cut through the east quarter, sir,’ Yuan Kai said. ‘If you’ll allow me …’
‘By all means! You come along too, Headman. You sent a couple of constables back with Meng’s servant to see that nothing is disturbed, I trust?’
‘I certainly did, sir!’ the headman said importantly.
‘You are making progress,’ Judge Dee observed. Seeing the headman’s smug smile, he added dryly, ‘A pity that the progress is so slow. Get four horses from the stables!’
The pharmacist rode ahead and led them along several narrow alleys, zigzagging down to the bank of the lake. Soon they were riding through a lane lined with willow trees. These had given their name to the Willow Quarter, the abode of the dancing-girls and courtesans that lay to the east of the city.
‘Tell me about Meng Lan,’ the judge said to the pharmacist.
‘I didn’t know him too well, sir. I visited him only three or four times, but he seemed a nice, modest kind of person. He settled down here two years ago, in an old country house behind the Willow Quarter. It has only three rooms or so, but there is a beautiful large garden, with a lotus pond.’
‘Has he got a large family?’
‘No sir, he was a widower when he came here; his two grownup sons live in the capital. Last year he met a courtesan from the Willow Quarter. He bought her out, and married her. She didn’t have much to commend herself besides her looks-she can’t read or write, sing or dance. Meng Lan was able to buy her cheaply, therefore, but it took all his savings. He was living on a small annuity an admirer in the capital was sending him. I am told it was a happy marriage, although Meng was of course much older than she.’
‘One would have thought,’ Judge Dee remarked, ‘that a poet would choose an educated girl who could share his literary interests.’
‘She is a quiet, soft-spoken woman, sir,’ the pharmacist said with a shrug. ‘And she looked after him well.’
‘Meng Lan was a smart customer, even though he wrote poetry,’ Ma Joong muttered. ‘A nice, quiet girl that looks after you well-a man can hardly do better than that!’
The willow lane had narrowed to a pathway. It led through the high oak trees and thick undergrowth that marked the vicinity of the marsh behind the Willow Quarter.
The four men dismounted in front of a rustic bamboo gate. The two constables standing guard there saluted, then pushed the gate open. Before entering, Judge Dee surveyed the large garden. It was not very well kept. The flowering shrubs and bushes round the lotus pond were running wild, but they gave the place a kind of savage beauty. Some butterflies were fluttering lazily over the large lotus leaves that covered the pond’s surface.
‘Meng Lan was very fond of this garden,’ Yuan Kai remarked.
The judge nodded. He looked at the red-lacquered wooden bridge that led over the water to a hexagonal pavilion, open on all sides. Slender pillars supported the pointed roof, decked with green tiles. Beyond the pond, at the back of the garden, he saw a low, rambling wooden building. Its thatched roof was half covered by the low foliage of the tall oak trees that stood behind the house.
It was getting very hot. Judge Dee wiped the perspiration from his brow and crossed the narrow bridge, the three others following behind him. The small pavilion offered hardly enough space for the four men. Judge Dee stood looking for a while at the thin figure, clad in a simple house-robe of grey cloth, lying back in the bamboo armchair. Then he felt the sho
ulders, and the limp arms. Righting himself, he said, ‘The body is just getting stiff. In this hot, humid weather it’s hard to fix the time of death. In any case after midnight, I would say.’ He carefully pulled the knife out of the dead man’s breast. He examined the long, thin blade and the plain ivory hilt. Ma Joong pursed his lips and said, ‘Won’t help us much, sir. Every ironmonger in town keeps these cheap knives in stock.’
Judge Dee silently handed the knife to him. Ma Joong wrapped it up in a sheet of paper he had taken from his sleeve. The judge studied the thin face of the dead man. It was frozen in an eery, lopsided grin. The poet had a long, ragged moustache and a wispy grey goatee; the judge put his age at about sixty. He took the large wine jar from the table and shook it. Only a little wine was left. Then he picked up the wine cup standing next to it, and examined it. With a puzzled look he put it in his sleeve. Turning to the headman he said:
‘Tell the constables to make a stretcher of some branches, and convey the body to the tribunal, for the autopsy.’ And to Yuan Kai: ‘You might sit on that stone bench over there near the fence for a while, Mr Yuan. I won’t be long.’ He motioned Ma Joong to follow him.
They crossed the bridge again. The thin planks creaked under the weight of the two heavy men. They walked round the lotus pond and on to the house. With relief Judge Dee inhaled the cool air in the shadow under the porch. Ma Joong knocked.
A rather handsome but surly-looking youngster opened. Ma Joong told him that the magistrate wanted to see Mrs Meng. As the boy went hurriedly inside, Judge Dee sat down at the rickety bamboo table in the centre of the sparsely furnished room. Ma Joong stood with folded arms behind his chair. The judge took in the old, worn furniture, and the cracked plaster walls. He said, ‘Robbery can’t have been the motive, evidently.’
‘There-the motive is coming, sir!’ Ma Joong whispered. ‘Old husband, pretty young wife-we know the rest!’
Judge Dee looked round and saw that a slender woman of about twenty-five had appeared in the door opening. Her face was not made up and her cheeks showed the traces of tears. But her large, Liquid eyes, gracefully curved eyebrows, full red lips and smooth complexion made her a very attractive woman. The robe she wore was of faded blue cloth, but it did not conceal her splendid figure. After one frightened look at the judge she made an obeisance, then remained standing there with downcast eyes, waiting respectfully till he would address her.
‘I am distressed, madam,’ Judge Dee said in a gentle voice, ‘that I have to bother you so soon after the tragedy. I trust that you’ll understand, however, that I must take swift action to bring the vile murderer to justice.’ As she nodded he went on: ‘When did you see your husband last?’
‘We had our evening rice here in this room,’ Mrs Meng replied in a soft, melodious voice. ‘Thereafter, when I had cleared the table, my husband read here for a few hours, and then said that since there was a beautiful moon he would go to the garden pavilion and have a few cups of wine there.’
‘Did he often do that?’
‘Oh yes, he would go out there nearly every other night, enjoying the cool evening breeze, and humming songs.’
‘Did he often receive visitors there?’
‘Never, Your Honour. He liked to be left alone, and did not encourage visitors. The few people who came to see him he always received in the afternoon, and here in the hall, for a cup of tea. I loved this peaceful life, my husband was so considerate, he …’
Her eyes became moist and her mouth twitched. But soon she took hold of herself and went on, ‘I prepared a large jar of warm wine, and brought it out to the pavilion. My husband said that I need not wait up for him, since he planned to be sitting there till a late hour. Thus I went to bed. Early this morning the servant knocked frantically on the door of our bedroom. I then saw that my husband wasn’t there. The boy told me that he had found him in the pavilion… .’
‘Does this boy live here in the house?’ Judge Dee asked. ‘No, Your Honour, he stays with his father, the gardener of the largest house in the Willow Quarter. The boy only comes for the day; he leaves after I have prepared the evening rice.’ ‘Did you hear anything unusual during the night?’ Mrs Meng frowned, then answered, ‘I woke up once, it must have been shortly after midnight. The frogs in the pond were making a terrible noise. During the daytime one never hears them, they stay under water. Even when I wade into the pond to gather lotus flowers they remain quiet. But at night they come out, and they are easily startled. Therefore I thought that my husband was coming inside, and had dropped a stone or so into the pond. Then I dozed off again.’
‘I see,’ Judge Dee said. He thought for a while, caressing his long sidewhiskers. ‘Your husband’s face didn’t show any signs of terror or astonishment; he must have been stabbed quite unexpectedly. He was dead before he knew what was happening. That proves your husband knew his murderer well; they must have been sitting there drinking wine together. The large jar was nearly empty, but there was only one cup. I suppose that it would be difficult to check whether a wine cup is missing?’
‘It’s not difficult at all,’ Mrs Meng replied with a thin smile. ‘We have only seven cups, a set of six, of green porcelain, and one larger cup of white porcelain, which my husband always used.’
The judge raised his eyebrows. The cup he had found was of green porcelain. He resumed: ‘Did your husband have any enemies?’
‘None, Your Honour!’ she exclaimed. ‘I can’t understand who …’
‘Do you have enemies?’ Judge Dee interrupted.
She grew red in the face, and bit her lip. Then she said contritely, ‘Of course Your Honour knows that until a year ago I worked in the quarter over there. Occasionally I refused a person who sought my favours, but I am certain that none of them would ever … And after all that time …’ Her voice trailed off.
The judge rose. He thanked Mrs Meng, expressed his sympathy, and took his leave.
When the two men were walking down the garden path Ma Joong said, ‘You ought to have asked her also about her friends, sir!’
‘I depend on you for that information, Ma Joong. Have you kept in contact with that girl from the quarter-Apple Blossom is her name, I think.’
‘Peach Blossom, sir. Certainly I have!’
‘Good. You’ll go to the quarter right now, and get her to tell you everything she knows about Mrs Meng at the time she was still working there. Especially about the men she used to associate with.’
‘It’s very early in the day, sir,’ Ma Joong said doubtfully. ‘She’ll still be asleep.’
‘Then you wake her up! Get going!’
Ma Joong looked dejected, but he hurried to the gate. Judge Dee reflected idly that if he sent his amorous lieutenant often enough to interview his lady-friends before breakfast, he might yet cure him of his weakness. As a rule such women don’t look their best in the early morning after a late night.
Yuan Kai was standing by the lotus pond talking earnestly with a newcomer, a tall, neatly dressed man with a heavy-jowled, rather solemn face. The pharmacist introduced him as Mr Wen Shou-fang, newly elected master of the tea-merchants’ guild. The guildmaster made a low bow, then began an elaborate apology for not having called on the judge yet. Judge Dee cut him short, asking, ‘What brings you here so early in the morning, Mr Wen?’
Wen seemed taken aback by this sudden question. He stammered, ‘I … I wanted to express my sympathy to Mrs Meng, and … to ask her whether I could help her in any way… .’
‘So you knew the Mengs well?’ Judge Dee asked.
‘I was just talking this matter over with my friend Wen, sir,’ Yuan Kai interposed hurriedly. ‘We decided to report to Your Honour here and now that both Wen and I myself sought Mrs Meng’s favours when she was still a courtesan, and that neither of us was successful. Both of us want to state that we perfectly understood that a courtesan is free to grant or withhold her favours, and that neither of us bore her any malice. Also that we had a high regard for Meng Lan, and were very gla
d that their marriage proved to turn out so well. Therefore …’
‘Just to get the record straight,’ the judge interrupted, ‘I suppose that both of you can prove that you weren’t in this vicinity last night?’
The pharmacist gave his friend an embarrassed Took. Wen Shou-fang replied diffidently, ‘As a matter of fact, Your Honour, both of us took part in a banquet, held in the largest house in the Willow Quarter last night. Later we ah … retired upstairs, with ah … company. We went home a few hours after midnight.’
‘I had a brief nap at home,’ Yuan Kai added, ‘then changed into hunting-dress and went to the tribunal to fetch Your Honour for our duck-hunt.’
‘I see,’ Judge Dee said. ‘I am glad you told me, it saves me unnecessary work.’
‘This lotus pond is really very attractive,’ Wen said, looking relieved. While they were conducting the judge to the gate, he added: ‘Unfortunately such ponds are usually infested with frogs.’
‘They make an infernal noise at times,’ Yuan Kai remarked as he opened the gate for Judge Dee. The judge mounted his horse, and rode back to the tribunal.
The headman came to meet him in the courtyard and reported that in the side hall everything was ready for the autopsy. Judge Dee went first to his private office. While the clerk was pouring him a cup of hot tea the judge wrote a brief note to Ma Joong, instructing him to question the two courtesans Yuan Kai and Wen Shou-fang had slept with the night before. He thought a moment, then added: ‘Verify also whether the servant of the Mengs passed last night in his father’s house.’ He sealed the note and ordered the clerk to have it delivered to Ma Joong immediately. Then Judge Dee quickly munched a few dry cakes, and went to the side hall where the coroner and his two assistants were waiting for him.
Judge Dee At Work Page 9
