Judge Dee At Work

by Robert Van Gulik

  Ling glared at him and said with a sneer, ‘You seem to find time hanging heavily on your hands in this household! Gossiping instead of supervising the servants!’

  ‘Let the man speak!’ the judge snapped at Ling. And to the steward: ‘Was there absolutely no clue as to where Mr Wang used to go on his days off? You must know; you saw him go in and out, didn’t you?’

  The steward frowned. Then he replied, ‘Well, it did strike me that Mr Wang always seemed happy when he went, but when he came back he was usually rather depressed. He had melancholy moods at times. Never interfered with his teaching, though, sir. He was always ready to answer difficult questions, the young miss said the other day.’

  ‘You stated that Wang only taught your grandchildren,’ the judge said sharply to Ling. ‘Now it appears that he also taught your daughter!’

  The guildmaster gave his steward a furious look. He moistened his lips, then replied curtly, ‘He did. Until she was married, two months ago.’

  ‘I see.’ Judge Dee rose from his chair and told the steward: ‘Show me Mr Wang’s room!’ He motioned to Sergeant Hoong to follow him. As Ling made a move to join them, the judge said: -‘Your presence is not required.’

  The steward led the judge and Hoong through a maze of corridors to the back yard of the extensive compound. He unlocked a narrow door, lifted the candle and showed them a small, poorly furnished room. There was only a bamboo couch, a simple writing-desk with a straight-backed chair, a bamboo rack with a few books and a black-leather clothes-box. The walls were covered with long strips of paper, bearing ink-sketches of orchids, done with considerable skill. Following Judge Dee’s glance, the steward said:

  ‘That was Mr Wang’s only hobby, sir. He loved orchids, knew everything about tending them.’

  ‘Didn’t he have a few potted orchids about?’ the judge asked.

  ‘No, sir. I don’t think he could afford to buy them-they are quite expensive, sir!’

  Judge Dee nodded. He picked up a few of the dog-eared volumes from the book rack and glanced through them. It was romantic poetry, in cheap editions. Then he opened the clothes-box. It was stuffed with men’s garments, worn threadbare, but of good quality. The cash box at the bottom of the box contained only some small change. The judge turned to the desk. The drawer had no lock. Inside were the usual writing materials, but no money and not a scrap of inscribed paper, not even a receipted bill. He slammed the drawer shut and angrily asked the steward, ‘Who has rifled this room during Mr Wang’s absence?’

  ‘Nobody has been here, Your Honour!’ the frightened steward stammered. ‘Mr Wang always locked the door when he went out, and I have the only spare key.’

  ‘You yourself told me that Wang didn’t spend a cent, didn’t you? What has happened to his savings over the past year? There’s only some small change here!’

  The steward shook his head in bewilderment. ‘I really couldn’t say, Your Honour! I am sure nobody came in here. And all the servants have been with us for years. There has never been any pilfering, I can assure you, sir!’

  Judge Dee remained standing for a while by the desk. He stared at the paintings, slowly tugging at his moustache. Then he turned round and said: ‘Take us back to the hall!’ While the steward was conducting them again through the winding corridors, Judge Dee remarked casually, ‘This residence is situated in a nice, quiet neighbourhood.’

  ‘Oh yes, indeed, sir, very quiet and respectable!’

  ‘It’s exactly in such a nice, respectable neighbourhood that one finds the better houses of assignation,’ the judge remarked dryly. ‘Are there any near here?’

  The steward seemed taken aback by this unexpected question. He cleared his throat and replied diffidently, ‘Only one, sir, two streets away. It’s kept by a Mrs Kwang-very high class, visited by the best people only, sir. Never any brawls or other trouble there, sir.’

  ‘I am glad to hear that,’ Judge Dee said.

  Back in the reception hall he told the guildmaster that he would have to accompany him to the tribunal to make the formal identification of the dead man. While they were being carried out there in Judge Dee’s palankeen, the guildmaster observed a surly silence.

  After Ling had stated that the dead body was indeed that of his house tutor and filled out the necessary documents, Judge Dee let him go. Then he said to Sergeant Hoong, ‘I’ll now change into a more comfortable robe. In the meantime you tell our headman to stand by in the courtyard with two constables.’

  Sergeant Hoong found the judge in his private office. He had changed into a simple robe of dark-grey cotton with a broad black sash, and he had placed a small black skull-cap on his head.

  Hoong wanted to ask him where they were going, but seeing Judge Dee’s preoccupied mien, he thought better of it and silently followed him out into the courtyard.

  The headman and two constables sprang to attention when they saw the judge.

  ‘Do you know the address of a house of assignation in the north quarter, close by Guildmaster Ling’s residence?’ Judge Dee asked.

  ‘Certainly, Your Honour!’ the headman answered officiously. That’s Mrs Kwang’s establishment. Properly licensed, and very high class, sir, only the best …’

  ‘I know, I know!’ the judge cut him short impatiently. ‘We’ll walk out there. You lead the way with your men!’

  Now the streets were crowded again with people. They were milling around under the garlands of coloured lanterns that spanned the streets and decorated the fronts of all the shops and restaurants. The headman and the two constables unceremoniously elbowed people aside, making way for the judge and Sergeant Hoong.

  Even in the back street where Mrs Kwang lived there were many people about. When the headman had knocked and told the gatekeeper that the magistrate had arrived, the frightened old man quickly conducted the judge and Hoong to a luxuriously appointed waiting-room in the front court.

  An elderly, sedately dressed maidservant placed a tea-set of exquisite antique porcelain on the table. Then a tall, handsome woman of about thirty came in, made a low bow and introduced herself as Mrs Kwang, a widow. She wore a straight, long-sleeved robe, simple in style but made of costly, dark-violet damask. She herself poured the tea for the judge, elegantly holding up with her left hand the trailing sleeve of the right. She remained standing in front of the judge, respectfully waiting for him to address her. Sergeant Hoong stood behind Judge Dee’s chair, his arms folded in his wide sleeves.

  Leisurely tasting the fragrant tea, Judge Dee noticed how quiet it was; all noise was kept out by the embroidered curtains and wall-hangings of heavy brocade. The faint scent of rare and very expensive incense floated in the air. All very high class indeed. He set down his cup and began, ‘I disapprove of your trade, Mrs Kwang. I recognize, however, that it is a necessary evil. As long as you keep everything orderly and treat the girls well, I won’t make any trouble for you. Tell me, how many girls have you working here?’

  ‘Eight, Your Honour. All purchased in the regular manner, of course, mostly directly from their parents. Every three months the ledgers with their earnings are sent to the tribunal, for the assessment of my taxes. I trust that …’

  ‘No, I have no complaints about that. But I am informed that one of the girls was bought out recently by a wealthy patron. Who is the fortunate girl?’

  Mrs Kwang looked politely astonished. “There must be some misunderstanding, Your Honour. All my girls here are still very-young-the eldest is just nineteen-and haven’t yet completed their training in music and dancing. They try hard to please, of course, but none of them has yet succeeded in captivating the favour of a wealthy patron so as to establish an ah . . , more permanent relationship.’ She paused, then added primly, ‘Although such a transaction means, of course, a very substantial monetary gain for me, I don’t encourage it until a courtesan is well into her twenties, and in every respect worthy of attaining the crowning success of her career.’

  ‘I see,’ Judge Dee said. He thought
ruefully that this information disposed effectively of his attractive theory. Now that his hunch had proved wrong, this case would necessitate a long investigation, beginning with the goldsmith in the capital who had introduced Wang to Guildmaster Ling. Suddenly another possibility flashed through his mind. Yes, he thought he could take the chance. Giving Mrs Kwang a stern look he said coldly:

  ‘Don’t prevaricate, Mrs Kwang! Besides the eight girls who are living here, you have established another in a house of her own. That’s a serious offence, for your licence covers this house only.’

  Mrs Kwang put a lock straight in her elaborate coiffure. The gesture made her long sleeve slip back, revealing her white, rounded forearm. Then she replied calmly:

  That information is only partly correct, Your Honour. I suppose it refers to Miss Liang, who lives in the next street. She is an accomplished courtesan from the capital, about thirty years old-her professional name is Rosedew. Since she was very popular in elegant circles in the capital, she saved a great deal of money and bought herself free, without, however, handing in her licence. She wanted to settle down, and came here to Poo-yang for a period of rest, and to have a leisurely look around for a suitable marriage partner. She’s a very intelligent woman, sir; she knows that all those elegant, flighty young men in the capital don’t go for permanent arrangements, so she wanted a steady, elderly man of some means and position. Only occasionally did she receive such selected clients here in my house. Your Honour will find the pertaining entries in a separate ledger, also duly submitted regularly for inspection. Since Miss Liang has kept her licence, and since the taxes on her earnings are paid …’

  She let her voice trail off. Judge Dee was secretly very pleased, for he knew now that he had been on the right track after all. But he assumed an angry mien, hit his fist on the table and barked, ‘So the man who is buying Rosedew out to marry her is being meanly deceived! For there is no redemption fee to be paid! Not one copper, neither to you nor to her former owner in the capital! Speak up! Weren’t you and she going to share that fee, obtained from the unsuspecting patron under false pretences?’

  At this Mrs Kwang lost her composure at last. She knelt down in front of Judge Dee’s chair and repeatedly knocked her forehead on the floor. Looking up, she wailed, ‘Please forgive this ignorant person, Excellency! The money has not yet been handed over. Her patron is an exalted person, Excellency, a colleague of Your Excellency, in fact, the magistrate of a district in this same region. If he should hear about this, he …’

  She burst into tears.

  Judge Dee turned round and gave Sergeant Hoong a significant look. That could be no one else but his amorous colleague of Chin-hwa, Magistrate Lo! He barked at Mrs Kwang: ‘It was indeed Magistrate Lo who asked me to investigate. Tell me where Miss Liang lives; I shall interrogate her personally about this disgraceful affair!’

  A short walk brought the judge and his men to the address in the next street that the tearful Mrs Kwang had given him.

  Before knocking on the gate, the headman quickly looked up and down the street, then said, ‘If I am not greatly mistaken, sir, the drain that beggar fell into is located right at the back of this house.’

  ‘Good!’ Judge Dee exclaimed. ‘Here, I’ll knock myself. You and your two men keep close to the wall while I go inside with the sergeant. Wait here till I call you!’

  After repeated knocking the peephole grate in the gate opened and a woman’s voice asked, ‘Who is there?’

  ‘I have a message from Magistrate Lo, for a Miss Rosedew,’ Judge Dee said politely.

  The door opened at once. A small woman dressed in a thin houserobe of white silk asked the two men to enter. As she preceded them to the open hall in the front court, the judge noticed that despite her frail build she had an excellent figure.

  When they were inside she gave her two visitors a curious look, then bade them seat themselves on the couch of carved rosewood. She said somewhat diffidently: ‘I am indeed Rosedew. Who do I have the honour of …’

  ‘We shan’t take much of your time, Miss Liang,’ the judge interrupted quickly. He looked her over. She had a finely chiselled mobile face, with expressive, almond-shaped eyes and a delicate small mouth-a woman of considerable intelligence and charm. Yet something didn’t fit with his theory.

  He surveyed the elegantly furnished hall. His eye fell on a high rack of polished bamboo in front of the side window. Each of its three superimposed shelves bore a row of orchid plants, potted in beautiful porcelain bowls. Their delicate fragrance pervaded the air. Pointing at the rack, he said: ‘Magistrate Lo told me about your fine collection of orchids, Miss Liang. I am a great lover of them myself. Look, what a pity! The second one on the top shelf has wilted, it needs special treatment, I think. Could you get it down and show it to me?’

  She gave him a doubtful look, but apparently decided that it was better to humour this queer friend of Magistrate Lo. She took a bamboo step-ladder from the corner, placed it in front of the rack, and nimbly climbed up, modestly gathering the thin robe round her shapely legs. When she was about to take the pot, Judge Dee suddenly stepped up close to the ladder and remarked casually:

  ‘Mr Wang used to call you Orchid, didn’t he, Miss Liang? So much more apposite than Rosedew, surely!’ When Miss Liang stood motionless, looking down at the judge with eyes that were suddenly wide with fear, he added sharply: ‘Mr Wang was standing exactly where I am standing now when you smashed the flower pot down on his head, wasn’t he?’

  She started to sway. Uttering a cry, she wildly groped for support. Judge Dee quickly steadied the ladder. Reaching up, he caught her round her waist and set her down on the floor. She clasped her hands to her heaving bosom and gasped: ‘I don’t . . Who are you?’

  ‘I am the magistrate of Poo-yang,’ the judge replied coldly. ‘After you murdered Wang, you replaced the broken flower pot by a new one, and transplanted the orchid. That’s why it’s wilted, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s a lie!’ she cried out. ‘Wicked slander. I shall …’

  ‘I have proof!’ Judge Dee cut her short. ‘A servant of the neighbours saw you dragging the dead body to the drain behind your house here. And I found in Wang’s room a note of his, stating that he feared you would harm him, now that you had a wealthy patron who wanted to marry you.’

  ‘The treacherous dog!’ she shouted. ‘He swore he didn’t keep one scrap of paper relating to …’ She suddenly stopped and angrily bit her red lips.

  ‘I know everything,’ the judge said evenly. ‘Wang wanted more than his weekly visits. Thus he endangered your affair with Magistrate Lo, an affair that would not only bring in a lump sum of money for you and Mrs Kwang, but also set you up for life. Therefore you had to kill your lover.’

  ‘Lover?’ she screamed. ‘Do you think I allowed that disgusting cripple ever to touch me here? It was bad enough to have to submit to his odious embraces before, when we were still in the capital!’

  ‘Yet you allowed him to share your bed here,’ Judge Dee remarked with disdain.

  ‘You know where he slept? In the kitchen! I wouldn’t have allowed him to come at all, but he made himself useful by answering my love letters for me, and he paid for and tended those orchids there, so that I would have flowers to wear in my hair. He also acted as doorman and brought tea and refreshments when one of my lovers was here. What else do you think I allowed him to come here for?’

  ‘Since he had spent his entire fortune on you I thought perhaps …’ Judge Dee said dryly.

  ‘The damnable fool!.’ she burst out again. ‘Even after I had told him that I was through with him, he kept on running after me, saying he couldn’t live without seeing my face now and then -the cringing beggar! His ridiculous devotion spoilt my reputation. It was because of him that I had to leave the capital and bury myself in this dreary place. And I, fool that I was, trusted that simpering wretch! Leaving a note accusing me! He’s ruined me, the dirty traitor!’

  Her beautiful face had changed in
to an evil mask. She stamped her small foot on the floor in impotent rage.

  ‘No,’ Judge Dee said in a tired voice, ‘Wang didn’t accuse you. What I said just now about that note wasn’t true. Beyond a few paintings of orchids which he did when thinking of you, there wasn’t one clue to you in his room. The poor, misguided man remained loyal to you, to his very end!’ He clapped his hands. When the headman and the two constables had come rushing inside, he ordered: ‘Put this woman in chains and lock her up in jail. She has confessed to a foul murder.’ As the two constables grabbed her arms and the headman started to chain her, the judge said: ‘Since there is not a single reason for clemency, you shall be beheaded on the execution ground.’

  He turned round and left, followed by Sergeant Hoong. The woman’s frantic cries were drowned by the loud shouts and laughter of a happy group of youngsters who came surging through the street, waving brightly coloured lanterns.

  When they were back in the tribunal, Judge Dee took Hoong straight to his own residence. While walking with him to the back hall, he said, ‘Let’s just have one cup of tea before we go and join the dinner in my women’s quarters.’

  The two men sat down at the round table. The large lantern hanging from the eaves, and those among the shrubs in the garden had been extinguished. But the full moon lit up the hall with its eerie light.