Judge Dee At Work

by Robert Van Gulik

  The autopsy brought to light nothing new: the poet had been in good health; death had been caused by a dagger thrust that had penetrated the heart. The judge ordered the headman to have the body placed in a temporary coffin, pending final instructions as to the time and place of burial. He returned to his private office and set to work on the official papers that had come in, assisted by the senior clerk of the tribunal.

  It was nearly noon when Ma Joong came back. After the judge had sent the clerk away, Ma Joong seated himself opposite Judge Dee’s desk, twirled his short moustache and began with a smug smile, Teach Blossom was already up and about, sir! She was just making her toilet when I knocked. Last night had been her evening off, so she had gone to bed early. She was looking more charming than ever, I …’

  ‘Yes, yes, come to your point!’ the judge cut him short peevishly. Part of his stratagem had apparently miscarried. ‘She must have told you quite a lot,’ he continued, ‘since you were gone nearly all morning.’

  Ma Joong gave him a reproachful look. He said earnestly, ‘One has to handle those girls carefully, sir. We had breakfast together, and I gradually brought her round to the subject of Mrs Meng. Her professional name was Agate, her real name Shih Mei-lan; she’s a farmer’s daughter from up north. Three years ago, when the big drought had caused famine and the people were dying like rats, her father sold her to a procurer, and he in turn sold her to the house where Peach Blossom is working. She was a pleasant, cheerful girl. The owner of the house confirmed that Yuan Kai had sought Agate’s favours, and that she had refused. He thinks she did so only in order to raise her price, for she seemed rather sorry when the pharmacist didn’t insist but found himself another playmate. With Wen Shou-fang it was a little different. Wen is a rather shy fellow; when Agate didn’t respond to his first overtures, he didn’t try again but confined himself to worshipping her from a distance. Then Meng Lan met her, and bought her then and there. But Peach Blossom thinks that Wen is still very fond of Agate, he often talks about her with the other girls and recently said again that Agate had deserved a better husband than that grumpy old poetaster. I also found out that Agate has a younger brother, called Shih Ming, and that he is a really bad egg. He is a drinker and gambler, who followed his sister out here and used to live off her earnings. He disappeared about a year ago, just before Meng Lan married her. But last week he suddenly turned up in the quarter and asked after his sister. When the owner told him that Meng Lan had bought and married her, Shih Ming went at once to their country house. Later Meng’s servant told people that Shih Ming had quarrelled with the poet; he hadn’t understood what it was all about, but it had something to do with money. Mrs Meng cried bitterly, and Shih Ming left in a rage. He hasn’t been seen since.’

  Ma Joong paused, but Judge Dee made no comment. He slowly sipped his tea, his bushy eyebrows knitted in a deep frown. Suddenly he asked: ‘Did Meng’s servant go out last night?’

  ‘No, sir. I questioned his father, the old gardener and also their neighbours. The youngster came home directly after dinner, fell down on the bed he shares with two brothers, and lay snoring there till daybreak. And that reminds me of your second point, sir. I found that Yuan Kai stayed last night with Peony, a friend of Peach Blossom. They went up to her room at midnight, and Yuan left the house two hours later, on foot-in order to enjoy the moonlight, he said. Wen Shou-fang stayed with a girl called Carnation, a comely wench, though she was in a bit of a sullen mood this morning. It seems that Wen had drunk too much during the banquet, and when he was up in Carnation’s room he laid himself down on the bed and passed out. Carnation tried to rouse him in vain, went over to the girls in the next room for a card game and forgot all about him. He came to life three hours later, but to Carnation’s disappointment he had such a hangover that he went straight home, also on foot. He preferred walking to sitting in a sedan chair, because he hoped the fresh air would clear his brain-so he said. That’s all, sir. I think that Shih Ming is our man. By marrying his sister, Meng Lan took Shih Ming’s rice-bowl away from him, so to speak. Shall I tell the headman to institute a search for Shih Ming? I have a good description of him.’

  ‘Do that,’ Judge Dee said. ‘You can go now and have your noon rice, I won’t need you until tonight.’

  ‘Then I’ll have a little nap,’ Ma Joong said with satisfaction. ‘I had quite a strenuous morning. What with the duck-hunt and everything.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it!’ the judge said dryly.

  When Ma Joong had taken his leave Judge Dee went upstairs to the marble terrace that overlooked the lake. He sat down in a large armchair, and had his noon rice served there. He didn’t feel like going to his private residence at the back of the tribunal; preoccupied as he was with the murder case, he wouldn’t be pleasant company for his family. When he had finished his meal he pulled the armchair into a shadowy corner on the terrace. But just as he was preparing himself for a brief nap, a messenger came up and handed him a long report from Sergeant Hoong. The sergeant wrote that the investigation in the western part of the district revealed that the attack on the treasury messenger had been perpetrated by a band of six ruffians. After they had beaten the man unconscious and taken the package with the gold bars, they coolly proceeded to an inn near the district boundary, and there they had a good meal. Then a stranger arrived; he kept his neckcloth over his nose and mouth, and the people of the inn had never seen him before. The leader of the robbers handed him a package, and then they all left in the direction of the forests of the neighbouring district. Later the body of the stranger had been found in a ditch, not far from the inn. He was recognized by his dress; his face had been beaten to pulp. The local coroner was an experienced man; he examined the contents of the dead man’s stomach, and discovered traces of a strong drug. The package with the gold bars had, of course, disappeared. ‘Thus the attack on the treasury messenger was carefully planned,’ the sergeant wrote in conclusion, ‘and by someone who has remained behind the scenes. He had his accomplice hire the ruffians to do the rough work, then sent that same accomplice to the inn to collect the booty. He himself followed the accomplice, drugged him and beat him to death, either because he wanted to eliminate a possible witness against him, or because he didn’t want to pay him his share. In order to trace the criminal behind this affair we’ll have to ask for the co-operation of Your Honour’s colleague in the neighbouring district. I respectfully request Your Honour to proceed here so as to conduct the investigation personally.’

  Judge Dee slowly rolled up the report. The sergeant was right, he ought to go there at once. But the poet’s murder needed his attention too. Both Yuan Kai and Wen Shou-fang had had the opportunity, but neither of them seemed to have a motive. Mrs Meng’s brother did indeed have a motive, but if he had done the deed he would doubtless have fled to some distant place by now. With a sigh he leaned back in his chair, pensively stroking his beard. Before he knew it he was sound asleep.

  When he woke up he noticed to his annoyance that he had slept too long; dusk was already falling. Ma Joong and the headman were standing by the balustrade. The latter reported that the hue and cry was out for Shih Ming, but that as yet no trace of him had been found.

  Judge Dee gave Ma Joong the sergeant’s report, saying, ‘You’d better read this carefully. Then you can make the necessary preparations for travelling to the west boundary of our district, for we shall go there early tomorrow morning. Among the incoming mail was a letter from the Treasury in the capital, ordering me to report without delay on the robbery. A missing string of coppers causes them sleepless nights, let alone a dozen good gold bars!’

  The judge went downstairs and drafted in his private office a preliminary report to the Treasury. Then he had his evening meal served on his desk. He hardly tasted what he ate, his thoughts were elsewhere. Laying down his chopsticks, he reflected with a sigh that it was most unfortunate that the two crimes should have occurred at approximately the same time. Suddenly he set down his tea cup. He got up and sta
rted to pace the floor. He thought he had found the explanation of the missing wine cup. He would have to verify this at once. He stepped up to the window and looked at the courtyard outside. When he saw that there was no one about, he quickly crossed over to the side gate and left the tribunal unnoticed.

  In the street he pulled his neckcloth up over the lower half of his face, and on the comer rented a small sedan chair. He paid the bearers off in front of the largest house in the Willow Quarter. Confused sounds of singing and laughter came from the brilliantly lit windows; apparently a gay banquet was already in progress there. Judge Dee quickly walked on and started along the path leading to Meng Lan’s country house.

  When he was approaching the garden gate he noticed that it was very quiet here; the trees cut off the noise from the Willow Quarter. He softly pushed the gate open and studied the garden. The moonlight shone on the lotus pond, the house at the back of the garden was completely dark. Judge Dee walked around the pond, then stooped and picked up a stone. He threw it into the pond. Immediately the frogs started to croak in chorus. With a satisfied smile Judge Dee went on to the door, again pulling his neckcloth up over his mouth and nose. Standing in the shadow of the porch, he knocked.

  A light appeared behind the window. Then the door opened and he heard Mrs Meng’s voice whispering, ‘Come inside, quick!’

  She was standing in the doorway, her torso naked. She only wore a thin loin-cloth, and her hair was hanging loose. When the judge let the neckcloth drop from his face she uttered a smothered cry.

  T am not the one you were expecting,’ he said coldly, ‘but I’ll come in anyway.’ He stepped inside, shut the door behind him and continued sternly to the cowering woman, ‘Who were you waiting for?’

  Her lips moved but no sound came forth.

  ‘Speak up!’ Judge Dee barked.

  Clutching the loin-cloth round her waist she stammered, ‘I wasn’t waiting for anyone. I was awakened by the noise of the frogs, and feared there was an intruder. So I came to have a look and …’

  SHE WAS STANDING IN THE DOORWAY, HER TORSO NAKED

  ‘And asked the intruder to come inside quickly! If you must lie, you’d better be more clever about it! Show me your bedroom where you were waiting for your lover!’

  Silently she took the candle from the table, and led the judge to a small side room. It only contained a narrow plank-bed, covered by a thin reed mat. The judge quickly stepped up to the bed and felt the mat. It was still warm from her body. Righting himself, he asked sharply: ‘Do you always sleep here?’

  ‘No, Your Honour, this is the servant’s room, the boy uses it for his afternoon nap. My bedroom is over on the other side of the hall we passed just now.’

  ‘Take me there!’

  When she had crossed the hall and shown the judge into the large bedroom he took the candle from her and quickly looked the room over. There was a dressing-table with a bamboo chair, four clothes-boxes, and a large bedstead. Judge Dee pulled the bedcurtains aside. He saw that the thick bedmat of soft reed had been rolled up, and that the pillows had been stored away in the recess in the back wall. He turned round to her and said angrily, ‘I don’t care where you were going to sleep with your lover, I only want to know his name. Speak up!’

  She didn’t answer, she only gave him a sidelong glance. Then her loin-cloth slipped down to the floor and she stood there stark naked. Covering herself with her hands, she looked coyly at him.

  Judge Dee turned away. ‘Those silly tricks bore me,’ he said coldly. ‘Get dressed at once, you’ll come with me to the tribunal and pass the night in jail. Tomorrow I shall interrogate you in court, if necessary under torture.’

  She silently opened a clothes-box and started to dress. The judge went to the hall and sat down there. He reflected that she was prepared to go a long way to shield her lover. Then he shrugged. Since she was a former courtesan, it wasn’t really such a very long way. When she came in, fully dressed, he motioned her to follow him.

  They met the night watch at the entrance of the Willow Quarter. The judge told their leader to take Mrs Meng in a sedan chair to the tribunal, and hand her to the warden of the jail. He was also to send four of his men to the dead poet’s house, they were to hide in the hall and arrest anyone who knocked. Then Judge Dee walked back at a leisurely pace, deep in thought.

  Passing the gatehouse of the tribunal, he saw Ma Joong sitting in the guardroom talking with the soldiers. He took his lieutenant to his private office. When he had told him what had happened in the country house, Ma Joong shook his head sadly and said, ‘So she had a secret lover, and it was he who killed her husband. Well, that means that the case is practically solved. With some further persuasion, she’ll come across with the fellow’s name.’

  Judge Dee took a sip from his tea, then said slowly, ‘There are a few points that worry me, though. There’s a definite connection between Meng’s murder and the attack on the treasury messenger, but I haven’t the faintest idea what it means. However, I want your opinion on two other points. First, how could Mrs Meng conduct a secret love affair? She and her husband practically never went out, and the few guests they received came during the day. Second, I verified that she was sleeping tonight in the servant’s room, on a narrow plank-bed. Why didn’t she prepare to receive her lover in the bedroom, where there is a large and comfortable bedstead? Deference to her dead husband couldn’t have prevented her from that, if she had been merrily deceiving him behind his back! I know, of course, that lovers don’t care much about comfort, but even so, that hard, narrow plank-bed …’

  ‘Well,’ Ma Joong said with a grin, ‘as regards the first point, if a woman is determined on having her little games, you can be dead sure that she’ll somehow manage to find ways and means. Perhaps it was that servant of theirs she was playing around with, and then her private pleasures had nothing to do with the murder. As to the second point, I have often enough slept on a plank-bed, but I confess I never thought of sharing it. I’ll gladly go to the Willow Quarter, though, and make inquiries about its special advantages if any.’ He looked hopefully at the judge.

  Judge Dee was staring at him, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. Slowly tugging at his moustache, he remained silent for some time. Suddenly the judge smiled. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘we might try that.’ Ma Joong looked pleased. But his face fell as Judge Dee continued briskly, ‘Go at once to the Inn of the Red Carp, behind the fishmarket. Tell the head of the beggars there to get you hah a dozen beggars who frequent the vicinity of the Willow Quarter, and bring those fellows here. Tell the head of the guild that I want to interrogate them about important new facts that have come to light regarding the murder of the poet Meng Lan. Make no secret of it. On the contrary, see to it that everybody knows I am summoning these beggars, and for what purpose. Get going!’

  As Ma Joong remained sitting there, looking dumbfounded at the judge, he added, ‘If my scheme succeeds, I’ll have solved both Meng’s murder and the robbery of the gold bars. Do your best!’

  Ma Joong got up and hurried outside.

  When Ma Joong came back to Judge Dee’s private office herding four ragged beggars he saw on the side table large platters with cakes and sweetmeats, and a few jugs of wine.

  Judge Dee put the frightened men at their ease with some friendly words of greeting, then told them to taste the food and have a cup of wine. As the astonished beggars shuffled up to the table looking hungrily at the repast, Judge Dee took Ma Joong apart and said in a low voice:

  ‘Go to the guardroom and select three good men from among the constables. You wait with them at the gate. In an hour or so I’ll send the four beggars away. Each of them must be secretly followed. Arrest any person who accosts any one of them and bring him here, together with the beggar he addressed!’

  Then he turned to the beggars, and encouraged them to partake freely of the food and wine. The perplexed vagabonds hesitated long before they fell to, but then the platters and cups were empty in an amazingly brief ti
me. Their leader, a one-eyed scoundrel, wiped his hands on his greasy beard, then muttered resignedly to his companions, ‘Now he’ll have our heads chopped off. But I must say that it was a generous last meal.’

  To their amazement, however, Judge Dee made them sit down on tabourets in front of his desk. He questioned each of them about the place he came from, his age, his family and many other innocent details. When the beggars found that he didn’t touch upon any awkward subjects, they began to talk more freely, and soon an hour had passed.

  Judge Dee rose, thanked them for their co-operation and told them they could go. Then he began to pace the floor, his hands clasped behind his back.

  Sooner than he had expected there was a knock. Ma Joong came in, dragging the one-eyed beggar along.

  ‘He gave me the silver piece before I knew what was happening, Excellency!’ the old man whined. ‘I swear I didn’t pick his pocket!’

  ‘I know you didn’t,’ Judge Dee said. ‘Don’t worry, you can keep that silver piece. Just tell me what he said to you.’

  ‘He comes up to me when I am rounding the street corner, Excellency, and presses that silver piece into my hand. He says: “Come with me, you’ll get another one if you tell me what that judge asked you and your friends.” I swear that’s the truth, Excellency!’

  ‘Good! You can go. Don’t spend the money on wine and gambling!’ As the beggar scurried away the judge said to Ma Joong: ‘Bring the prisoner!’

  The pharmacist Yuan Kai started to protest loudly as soon as he was inside. ‘A prominent citizen arrested like a common criminal! I demand to know …’

  And I demand to know,’ Judge Dee interrupted him coldly, ‘why you were lying in wait for that beggar, and why you questioned him.’

  ‘Of course I am deeply interested in the progress of the investigation, Your Honour! I was eager to know whether …’

  ‘Whether I had found a clue leading to you which you had overlooked,’ the judge completed the sentence for him. ‘Yuan Kai, you murdered the poet Meng Lan, and also Shih Ming, whom you used to contact the ruffians that robbed the treasury messenger. Confess your crimes!’