The Emperor's Pearl

by Robert Van Gulik

  ‘What brought you to Marble Bridge? A pleasure trip?’

  ‘On the contrary,’ Kwang replied stiffly, ‘it was urgent business, connected with the affairs of my branch-office, further up the Canal. Three days ago I chartered a canal-junk, together with my friend and colleague Mr Sun, intending to proceed north with the least possible delay. However, when our boatmen heard on arrival that at night a dragonboat race would be held here on grand scale, the lazy rascals insisted on staying over here the night. Thinking that I might as well put this enforced delay to some good use, I sent a message to Dr Pien asking him to come to Marble Bridge at noon, and show me over the former Tong property. He replied that he was fully occupied with the preparations for the races, but that he would call on me late in the afternoon. He came for tea to my junk, and we agreed to meet here in the deserted house today, shortly after daybreak. I chose the early hour because it was-and still is, by Your Honour’s leave-my intention to set sail again as soon as possible. Now I am waiting here for Dr Pien. I am pleased that a lucky chance brought Your Honour here also, for last night modesty prevented me from presenting myself.’

  As he saw Judge Dee’s questioning look, Mr Kwang continued with the same bland expression:

  ‘Last night Dr Pien kindly took me to a wine-house in Marble Bridge Village where he was entertaining the crews and, thereafter, down the Canal to the locality of the finish. Then Dr Pien had to busy himself about the races. While I was walking around aimlessly on the river-bank, a passerby pointed out Your Honour’s barge to me, and I made bold to go on board. For I have many business relations in Poo-yang, and I felt I ought to pay my respects to its magistrate. There was no one on the lower deck to announce me, and when I went up I saw Your Honour and his ladies standing at the railing, enjoying the scenery. Not wishing to intrude on what evidently was a family gathering, I withdrew. I met the steward on the lower deck, and told him not to bother. I feel, however, that I ought to mention this, in order to prove that I am not lacking in-‘

  ‘Quite. Very kind of you Mr Kwang.’ Judge Dee gave him a steady look. So this was the mysterious visitor his steward had spoken about. He asked: ‘Did your colleague, Mr Sun, accompany you?’

  ‘No sir. Since he was indisposed, he retired early to his cabin. As to me, I saw the finish of the races, then hired a horse and rode back to Marble Bridge. None of my boatmen had returned yet, the dissolute loafers, so I made myself a cup of tea and retired also.’

  ‘All right, thank you, Mr Kwang. Now tell me, why did you have the pavilion over there repaired?’

  Mr Kwang raised his thin eyebrows in polite astonishment.

  ‘Repaired? Dismantled you mean for sure, sir!’

  Judge Dee went past him and up the steps, followed by Sergeant Hoong and Kwang. Standing just inside the door, he surveyed the room with an incredulous stare. Large patches of the plaster had been torn from the walls, showing the red bricks underneath. Part of the ceiling had been taken down, floor-tiles removed, even the bamboo legs of the couch had been split open.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ an astonished voice spoke up behind them.

  Judge Dee turned round. He said sourly:

  ‘Unauthorized persons have made mischief here, Dr Pien. We are just taking stock of the damage.’

  ‘I was under the impression, doctor,’ Kwang addressed him coldly, ‘that you had agreed in writing to keep an eye on my property.’

  ‘I sent a man up here only a month ago, Mr Kwang,’ Dr Pien replied with a vexed expression. ‘He reported that everything was in order. And he knew this place inside out. It was Tong Mai, the son of the former owner. I can’t understand this at all, I-‘

  ‘I’ll be back presently,’ Judge Dee interrupted. He motioned the sergeant to follow him.

  As they were crossing the garden the judge said in a low voice:

  ‘The murderer came back very early this morning, just when the militia had left. He must have believed the story about the Emperor’s pearl, and came to look for it. Let’s see whether he visited the main building too.’ He angrily slapped at a few bluebottles that buzzed round his head.

  A quick tour through the deserted halls proved that nothing had been disturbed there. The judge saw only his own footprints on the dust-covered floor. When they were walking back to the pavilion the sergeant remarked:

  ‘The pavilion was searched completely. That would seem to indicate that the murderer did not find what he came for.’

  Judge Dee nodded. He again hit out at a swarm of bluebottles. ‘Confound those insects! Look, Hoong, it was here, on top of this wall, that I saw that small tortoise.’ Putting his hands on the low wall he went on: ‘It was crawling along under a-‘

  Suddenly he broke off. He leaned forward over the wall and looked down on the other side. Hoong joined him. He uttered a smothered oath.

  The body of a man dressed in a blue jacket and trousers was lying among the weeds in the shallow ditch at the foot of the wall. Uncounted bluebottles were crawling over the top of his skull, which was a mass of clotted blood.

  The judge turned round and rushed inside the pavilion. Dr Pien and Mr Kwang stood in a corner, deep in conversation. Judge Dee stepped up to them and asked Kwang casually:

  THE JUDGE AND HOONG MAKE A DISCOVERY

  ‘How long had you been here when I arrived, Mr Kwang?’

  ‘I came here only a few moments before Your Honour,’ Kwang answered. ‘I hadn’t even inspected the main building. I came first to the garden here, to have a look at the Mandrake Grove beyond the wall, because-‘

  ‘Come along, both of you!’ barked the judge.

  As soon as Kwang had looked over the wall he turned away, retched and was violently sick.

  ‘That’s Sia Kwang, sir!’ Dr Pien exclaimed. ‘You can see the scar on his left cheek!’

  Judge Dee tucked up his robe, climbed on the wall and let himself down on the other side. Dr Pien and Sergeant Hoong scrambled over the wall after him.

  Squatting by the dead man’s side, the judge scrutinized the bloodstained hair. Then he looked round among the weeds in the ditch. He picked up a brick and handed it to Hoong, saying:

  ‘The top of his skull was bashed in from behind with this brick. You can still see the blood, on its side here.’ Rising, he added: ‘Help me to search the shrubbery, there may be other clues.’

  ‘This looks like a carpenter’s tool box, sir!’ the sergeant exclaimed. He showed the judge the scarred, oblong box he had found under a shrub. On a sign from Judge Dee Hoong undid the leather straps. The box contained two saw-blades, a hammer, and a few chisels.

  ‘Take that along too,’ the judge said. And, to Dr Pien: ‘Help me to take off his jacket!’

  After they had stripped the dead man’s muscular torso they saw that a rag was wound tightly round the left upper-arm. Dr Pien loosened it and examined the deep cut.

  ‘The wound was inflicted very recently, sir,’ he remarked. ‘With a thin, sharp knife, I’d say. The body is still warm, he must have been killed only half an hour ago or so!’ Judge Dee said nothing. He searched the sleeves, but they were empty. Neither was anything tucked among the folds of the sash round the man’s waist, not even a handkerchief.

  The judge said curtly:

  ‘We are through here. Our coroner shall do the rest.’

  Chapter 10

  WHEN THE THREE MEN had climbed back into the garden again, Judge Dee cut short Kwang Min’s excited questions and said to Hoong:

  ‘Ride to the market and fetch the village headman and a dozen or so local militia.’

  He began to pace the garden, from time to time angrily shaking his sleeves. Dr Pien took Mr Kwang aside and started a whispered conversation.

  Sergeant Hoong came back in a remarkably short time. He brought a flustered headman and a group of frightened-looking youngsters, armed with long bamboo sticks.

  Judge Dee ordered the village headman to have the corpse put on a stretcher and brought to the tribunal. His men were to stay a
nd guard the house till the constables would come to take over. Seeing their unhappy faces, he snapped at them:

  ‘It’s broad daylight now, isn’t it? There’s nothing to be afraid of!’ He added to Pien and Kwang: ‘We’ll return to the village together. You two may borrow horses from the militia here.’

  When the cavalcade had arrived in Marble Bridge Village, Judge Dee told Mr Kwang to take them to his junk.

  It proved to be quite a big barge that took up most of the space afforded by the quay beyond the bridge. Four haggard-looking boatmen were unrolling the sail of bamboo-matting. The judge told Kwang and the two others to wait on the jetty, and walked over the narrow plank that served as gangway to the ship. Standing on the foredeck he shouted for the captain. After a long wait a tousled head rose up from the hatch. The captain stepped on deck, hitched up his trousers and stared at the judge with bleary, bloodshot eyes. Evidently he and his crew had a rather heavy night behind them.

  ‘Take me to Mr Sun!’ Judge Dee ordered.

  The captain shambled to the raised stern, consisting of a double cabin. After repeated knocking on the narrow door, the window by its side was pushed open. A thin man with a scraggy neck and an aggressive short beard leaned out. A white cloth was wound tightly round his head.

  ‘Do you have to make that awful noise?’ he asked crossly. ‘I am suffering from a splitting headache. I shouldn’t be disturbed!’

  ‘I am the magistrate. No, stay where you are! I only want to ask you how you passed last evening, Mr Sun.’

  ‘In bed, sir. Didn’t even have one bite for dinner. These attacks bother me regularly, you know. Confounded nuisance.’ He put his elbows on the sill and went on: ‘Not that I have no warning, though. The first sign is a feverish feeling, and complete lack of appetite. It is followed by a slight sickness, accompanied by a sour taste in my mouth, and then-‘

  ‘Most distressing. Did Mr Kwang come to see you?’

  ‘He did. He looked in before dinner to tell me he was off to the boat races, with a friend of his. Didn’t hear him come back. But you’ll doubtless find him in his cabin, next to mine here. Was there an accident?’

  ‘I am looking for witnesses. A man was murdered.’

  Mr Sun gave the slovenly captain a baleful look.

  ‘Evidently the victim wasn’t our captain!’ he remarked with a sigh. ‘A great pity. I never was on a worse-run boat!’

  The captain began to mutter indignantly, but the judge turned to him and snapped: ‘You’ll sail this boat down to the landing-stage near the west gate of the city, and keep it there until further notice!’ And, to Mr Sun: ‘I am afraid you’ll have to stay here for a day or two, Mr. Sun. You might utilize the delay for consulting a doctor. I wish you a speedy recovery.’

  Mr Sun started to protest that he was in a great hurry to travel on, but Judge Dee turned his back on him and went on land.

  ‘You are an important witness,’ he told Mr Kwang. ‘Therefore you’ll have to break your journey here. I told the captain to bring the junk to the landing-stage, you can either stay on board or take a room in a hostel, as you like. But report your address to the tribunal at once, so that I can summon you when I need you.’ Kwang frowned and was going to say something, but the judge continued in a crisp voice to Pien: ‘I’ll be needing you too, doctor. You are not to leave the city for the time being. Goodbye.’

  He jumped on his horse and rode off, together with Sergeant Hoong. When they were riding along the highway the sun had risen higher and was scorching them with its pitiless rays.

  ‘We should have taken straw hats along!’ Judge Dee muttered.

  ‘It’s bound to grow hotter still, sir! Not a breeze is stirring, and I don’t like those small black clouds gathering over there. We may be in for a thunderstorm, later in the day.’

  The judge made no comment. They rode on in silence. When the south gate came into sight Judge Dee suddenly burst out:

  ‘That’s the third murder in two days! And of Sia Kwang, the only man who could have shed some light on this baffling business!’ Then he went on in a calmer voice: ‘I’ll tell you frankly that I am worried, Hoong. There’s a dangerous, completely ruthless criminal on the loose in our town.’

  The corporal of the guard had seen them approaching. Now he stood stiffly at attention in front of the guardhouse, inside the gate. Through the window came a rattling sound. Two soldiers were sorting out bamboo markers on the high table. Judge Dee halted his horse, bent down from the saddle and looked through the window. After a while he righted himself, and pensively let his riding-whip swing to and fro. He had a vague feeling that those rattling markers ought to remind him of something that was in the back of his mind. But the connection was just out of his reach. He knitted his eyebrows.

  The corporal looked at him, astonished. He said awkwardly:

  ‘It is, ah … a rather hot day, Excellency.’

  Deep in thought, Judge Dee had not heard him. Suddenly he smiled broadly. Turning to Hoong on the horse behind him, he exclaimed:

  ‘Holy Heaven, that must be it, of course!’ Then he said briskly to the corporal: ‘Let those two men of yours arrange all those markers according to their numbers. If they should find two that bear the same number, send those to the tribunal at once!’

  He urged on his horse.

  Hoong wanted to ask the judge what was wrong with the markers, but Judge Dee said quickly:

  ‘I’ll go to see Sheng Pa’s girl-friend myself. You go to the Kou mansion and find out from the servants whether Kou went out this morning. I don’t care whether you bully or bribe, as long as you get that information!’

  ‘What about the morning session of the tribunal, sir?’ the sergeant asked worriedly. ‘The news of the Amber Lady’s murder will have spread throughout the city now, and soon the people will know about Sia Kwang’s death too. If we don’t issue some sort of official statement, tongues will begin to wag and all kinds of fantastic stories will be told in the tea houses!’

  Judge Dee pushed his cap back from his perspiring brow.

  ‘You are right of course, Hoong! Let it be announced that there’ll be no morning session today, but that the court will convene at noon. I’ll then just make known the bare facts and add a non-committal statement about the investigation being in progress. Let’s exchange our caps. I have no idea who or what that Miss Liang is, so that I had better go there incognito.’

  After he had put on Hoong’s small skull-cap, they parted. Judge Dee rode in the direction of the Temple of the War God. Wearing that cap and covered with dust and perspiration as he was, he hoped that he would not be recognized.

  Chapter 11

  THE STREET URCHIN whom he asked after Miss Liang’s house did not give him a second look. He silently pointed with a dirty forefinger at a large wooden barrack, near the corner of the street.

  When Judge Dee had dismounted and was fastening the bridle of his horse to the ring in the wall, his eye fell on the red-lacquered signboard hanging next to the door. It was inscribed with four black letters in cursive writing that read Wu-te Tao-chang, ‘ Training Hall of Martial Virtue ‘. The large square seal at the top indicated that the inscription had been written by one of the Imperial Princes. Doubtfully shaking his head he went inside.

  It was fairly cool in the dim, spacious hall. In the centre a thick reed mat had been spread out on the floor. Six hefty men, stripped to the waist, were practising wrestling-grips there in pairs. Farther on two dishevelled ruffians were fencing with bamboo sticks. Half a dozen men were sitting on the wooden bench against the side wall, intently following the proceedings. No one paid any attention to the newcomer.

  One of the fencers got hit on his hand. He let his stick drop and began to curse volubly.

  ‘Mind your language, Mister Mo, if you please!’ a grating voice resounded from the back of the hall.

  The fencer looked round with a frightened face.

  ‘Yes Miss Liang!’ he said meekly. ‘Sorry Miss Liang!’

 
; He blew on his sore fingers, picked up his stick, and the fencing went on.

  Judge Dee walked round the wrestlers and up to the counter. Then he stood stock-still. He stared with unbelieving eyes at the colossal woman reclining in the armchair there. This mountain of flesh was clad in a short-sleeved jacket and wide trousers of rough brown cotton, as worn by professional wrestlers. One red sash was wound tightly round her barrel-like torso under her ample bosom, and a second round her waist, supported her paunch. Raising her round, expressionless face up to the judge, she asked in a rasping voice:

  ‘What do you want, stranger?’ Taking hold of himself, the judge spoke gruffly: ‘My name is Jen, I am a boxing-master from the capital. I have to stay here for a few weeks, and Mr Sheng Pa directed me here, for advice about getting a few pupils. To keep my rice-bowl filled, you see?’

  Miss Liang did not reply at once. She raised her heavy right arm and patted her hair, combed straight back over her bullet-like head and gathered in a small bun on her neck. She was looking steadily at the judge all the while. Suddenly she said:

  ‘Let me feel your hand!’

  His hand was buried in her ham-like, calloused fist. He was a strong man, but he winced involuntarily. He had to summon all his strength to counter the pressure of the vicelike grip. Suddenly she let go.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘So you are a boxing-master. They come with beard and whiskers nowadays, it seems.’ She rose with surprising agility, strode round the counter and filled two rice-bowls from a stone wine-jar. ‘Have a drink, colleague!’ she said casually.

  He saw that she was as tall as himself. Her head seemed to grow directly from her broad, round shoulders. While sipping the rather good wine he asked curiously: ‘Where did you learn the trade?’

  ‘Far up north. I led a troupe of Mongolian women wrestlers, you know. A few years ago, when we came to the capital for a demonstration, the Third Prince engaged us for the Palace. The whole Court, gentlemen and ladies, used to turn out to see our naked wrestling bouts. I say naked, but we did wear a small brocade apron in front, mind you! We are modest girls.’ She emptied her bowl in one draught, spat on the floor and went on: ‘Last year the Minister of Rites reported to the Throne that our wrestling was indecent. Indecent my foot! You know who was behind it? It was those Court ladies! They were jealous, couldn’t bear that their men saw what it takes to make a real woman, for once! Those skinny, measly bits of skirt! Bah, if Merciful Heaven hadn’t given them a nose, you couldn’t tell their front from their behind. Anyway, the Throne ordered the Prince to dismiss us.’