Poets And Murder

by Robert Van Gulik

  Slowly stroking his long beard, the judge considered the case. It would have been impossible to forge the letters from the Ninth Prince, authenticated with the personal seal he always wore on his person. Also, the Censor had enjoyed the reputation of absolute integrity, a most capable criminal investigator, who had brilliantly solved a number of other difficult cases involving highly placed persons. Judge Dee remembered that his own father, the late State Counsellor, had sometimes talked about those cases, highly praising the Censor’s acumen. Since he had found the general guilty, he must have been completely sure of his case. The judge got up and began to pace the floor.

  What new evidence could the student have obtained? He had been only five years old when it all happened, so it had to be either hearsay or documentary evidence. How to trace what Soong had discovered? The student had been murdered, and the murderer had abstracted the documents Soong had concealed in his lodging. The family of Soong’s mother seemed the first possibility that had to be explored. He beckoned the old clerk and asked:

  ‘Are there many families of the surname Soong here?’

  The greybeard nodded ponderously.

  ‘A great many, sir. Rich and poor, related and unrelated. In olden times this county was called Soong, you see.’

  ‘Get me the Register of Taxes of the Year of the Dog, the section Assessment, but only the part dealing with families of the surname Soong.’

  When the old man had placed an open ledger on the table, the judge consulted the section of the lowest-income Soongs. Since Soong’s mother had been only a second concubine, her father must have been a tenant farmer, small shopkeeper or artisan. There were only half a dozen items. The third regarded Soong Wen-ta, owner of a vegetable shop, one wife and two daughters; the eldest married to a hardware dealer named Hwang, the younger one sold to General Mo as second

  JUDGE DEE CONSULTS THE ARCHIVES

  concubine. Judge Dee put his forefinger on the item and said: ‘Please find out in this year’s Population Register whether Mr Soong is still alive.’

  The old clerk went to the shelves on the side wall and came shuffling back with an armful of thick rolls. He unrolled a few and peered at the closely written entries, mumbling in his beard, ‘Soong Wen-ta … Soong Wen-ta …’ At last he looked up and shook his head. ‘He and his wife must have died without male issue, sir, for no one of that particular Soong family is listed any more. Do you wish to know in what year they died, sir?’

  ‘No, that’s not necessary. Give me the list of members of the Guild of Hardware Dealers!’ The judge got up from his chair. This was the last chance.

  The greybeard opened a large box marked ‘Minor Guilds’. He selected a thin booklet and handed it to the judge. While the old man gathered up again the rolls of the Population Register, Judge Dee leafed through the booklet. Yes, there was a hardware dealer called Hwang, married to a woman of the surname Soong. The item was marked by a small circle in the margin, meaning that Hwang was in arrears with the payment of his membership fees. He was living in an alley near the East Gate. Judge Dee memorized the address, then he threw the booklet on the table with a satisfied smile.

  Bending over the dossier of the Mo household, he verified that after the execution of the general the family had scattered. The dead concubine’s son, Soong I-wen, had been adopted by a distant uncle in the capital. The judge detached from the file the copy of the anonymous letter accusing the general and put it into his sleeve. He thanked the old clerk, and told him he could replace all the files. Then he walked over to the residence.

  On approaching the fourth courtyard, the judge was greeted by the shouts and laughter of children. It was a charming scene. About two dozen children, all dressed up in gaudy costumes, were romping about the man-high Moon Altar, which had been erected in the centre of the paved yard. On top of it was the white figure of the long-eared Moon Rabbit, fashioned out of dough and standing on a pile of Moon Cakes -round flour-cakes stuffed with sweet beans. At the base was a profusion of platters and bowls heaped with fresh fruit and sweetmeats, and at the corners high red candles and bronze incense burners; these would be lit after dark.

  Judge Dee crossed the yard to the broad marble terrace where a small group of people stood watching: the Court Poet and Sexton Loo at the marble balustrade, Lo, the Academician and the poetess behind them, beside a capacious armchair of carved ebony, set on a low dais. In the armchair sat a frail old lady in a long black dress, her snow-white hair combed back straight from her forehead. She held in her wrinkled hands an ebony walking-stick with a handle of green jade. Behind the chair stood a tall, handsome woman of middle age, very stiff and erect in a close-fitting robe of embroidered green silk. She was evidently Magistrate Lo’s First Wife. The two dozen or so women hovering in the shadows of the hall behind her would be his secondary wives with their personal maids.

  Ignoring all others, the judge stepped up to the Old Lady and made a low bow in front of the dais. While she was surveying him with her keen old eyes, Lo bent over to her and whispered respectfully:

  ‘This is my colleague Dee from Poo-yang, Mother.’

  The old lady nodded her small head, and bade the judge welcome in a soft but surprisingly clear voice. He inquired respectfully after her age, and learned she was seventy-two.

  ‘I have seventeen grandchildren, Magistrate!’ she announced proudly.

  ‘A virtuous house is blessed by numerous progeny, Milady!’ the Academician pronounced in his loud voice. The old lady bobbed her head with a pleased smile. Judge Dee greeted Shao, then paid his respects to the Court Poet and Sexton Loo. Finally he inquired after the health of the poetess. She replied that she was feeling all right, thanks to the good care of the magistrate’s First Lady. But the judge thought her face looked drawn and wan. He took his colleague apart and told him in a low voice:

  ‘The student was a son of General Mo Te-ling, by an unofficial concubine of the surname Soong. He came here to prove that his father had been falsely accused. Exactly as he told Saffron. He didn’t come under an assumed name, because he left here when he was only five, and only an aunt survives. Cheer up, Lo! Even though the poetess should indeed prove to have murdered the dancer, if you can report at the same time that you have discovered that General Mo Te-ling has been wrongly executed, you’ll stand a good chance of evading the impending crisis!’

  ‘Good gracious, Dee, this is marvellous news! Tell me more about it while we are at table. It’ll be an open-air affair, over there!’

  He pointed at the open corridor running along the back of the terrace. Between the pillars stood tables, loaded with platters of cold snacks, alternating with piles of moon-cakes, artistically heaped into pyramids.

  ‘I must leave now, Lo. I have to pay a visit downtown, then go on to the Black Fox Shrine. But I’ll try to be back before your poetical gathering at four.’

  After they had rejoined the others, the old lady intimated that she wanted to retire. The Academician and the others made their bows, and Lo and his First Lady led her inside. Judge Dee told the Academician that urgent papers had arrived by courier from Poo-yang, and asked to be excused from attending the open-air meal.

  ‘Duty before pleasure. Off you go, Dee!’

  Chapter 15

  THE JUDGE WENT FIRST to his own quarters, for he had to prepare his visit carefully. Relatives of a man executed for high treason, no matter how distant, are always mortally afraid of the authorities. Even after the lapse of many years, new evidence may come to light involving them in dangerous complications. He took a slip of red paper from the writing-box, and wrote SOONG LIANG on it in big letters. On the right he added ‘Commission Agent’, on the left an imaginary address in the city of Canton. Having changed into a plain blue cotton robe, and put a small black skull-cap on his head, he left the tribunal by the side gate.

  On the street corner he found a small litter for hire. When he ordered the bearers to take him to Hwang’s hardware shop, they protested that it was a long way, and to a
poor district where the roads were bad. But after the judge had agreed to the fare without haggling, and added a generous tip in advance, they cheerfully carried him away.

  The prosperous-looking shops in the main street reminded the judge of the fact that Hwang was in arrears with the payment of his fees to the guild. That meant the man must be desperately poor. He told the bearers to halt, and invested a silver piece in a large bolt of the best blue cotton. In the shop next door he bought two smoked ducks, and a box with moon-cakes. Having made these purchases, he continued his journey.

  After the market they passed a residential quarter which the judge recognized as the ward where the tea-merchant Meng lived. Then they entered a quarter of the poor, crossed by narrow, smelly back streets, with irregular cobblestones. The half-naked children playing among the rubbish stopped to gape at the litter, a vehicle rarely seen in that neighbourhood. Not wanting to draw undue attention to his visit, the judge ordered the bearers to put him down in front of a small tea-house. One bearer could wait there by the litter, the other was to go on with him on foot, and carry the bolt of cloth and the basket with the ducks. The judge was glad he had taken the man, for soon they were in the midst of a veritable rabbit-warren of crooked alleys, where the bearer had to ask directions in the local dialect.

  Hwang’s shop consisted of an open street-stall, its patched canvas awning attached to the roof of a mud-brick shed behind. A row of cheap earthenware teapots hung on a cross-pole over a trestle table stacked with bowls and platters. Behind the improvised counter a broad-shouldered, shabbily dressed man was laboriously putting a dozen coppers on a string. When Judge Dee put the red card on the counter, the man shook his head. ‘I can only make out the name Soong,’ he said in a surly, coarse voice. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘My card says I am Soong Liang, a commission agent from Canton,’ the judge explained. ‘I am a distant cousin of your wife, you see. Came to look you up, on my way to the capital.’

  Hwang’s swarthy face lit up. Turning round to the woman sitting on the bench against the wall, bent over the needlework in her lap, he called out, ‘At last one of your relatives seems to have remembered you, woman! It’s cousin Soong Liang, from Canton! Please come inside, sir, you’ve a long journey behind you!’

  She quickly came to her feet. The judge ordered the bearer to hand her his purchases, then to wait for him in the street-stall opposite.

  The hardware dealer took him into the small room that served as bed-sitting-room and kitchen. While Hwang quickly wiped the greasy table with a rag, the judge sat down on a bamboo stool and told the woman:

  ‘Third Uncle wrote me from the capital that your parents have died, cousin, but he gave me your address. Passing through here, I thought I’d drop in to offer you a few small gifts, for today’s festival.’

  She had opened the package and was looking with wide eyes at the bolt of cloth. He put her age at about forty. Her face was regular, but thin and deeply lined. Hwang exclaimed, startled:

  ‘You’re much too generous, cousin! Merciful Heaven, all that beautiful cloth! How could I ever return such a costly …’

  ‘Simple! By allowing a lonely traveller to have his Mid-autumn meal with his own relatives! I brought a trifling contribution along.’ He lifted the lid of the basket, and gave Hwang the box with moon-cakes. Hwang’s eyes were on the contents of the basket.

  ‘Two whole ducks! Cut them up carefully, woman! And take a new bowl and cups from the shop! I have saved a small jar of wine for today’s festival, but I’d never have dreamed we’d have meat with it! And such expensive smoked duck!’

  He poured the judge a cup of tea, then made polite inquiries about his guest’s family in Canton, his business, and the journey he had behind him. Judge Dee told a convincing story, adding that he had to travel on that same afternoon. Then he said, ‘We’ll have one duck now; the other’ll serve for tonight.’

  Hwang raised his hand.

  ‘Calamities of heaven and man may interfere between now and tonight, Cousin,’ he declared solemnly. ‘We’ll eat our fill here and now!’ He turned to his wife, who had been listening to the conversation with a pleased smile on her care-worn face. ‘I promise, woman, that not one bad word about your family shall ever pass my lips again!’ She gave the judge a shy look and said:

  ‘After that terrible affair, Cousin, nobody dared to come to see us any more, you see.’

  ‘The general’s case was talked about even down south,’ the judge remarked. ‘It was very sad that your sister did away with herself before the disaster, but when you look at it from the broader point of view of our family’s interest, it was all for the best. It saved us from being drawn into the affair.’ As Hwang and his wife nodded ponderously, he asked, ‘What happened to I-wen?’

  Hwang sniffed. ‘I-wen? Only heard a couple of years ago that he had become a man of letters. Far too snooty to remember his aunt!’

  ‘Why did your sister do away with herself, Cousin? Was she treated badly in the general’s house?’

  ‘No, she wasn’t,’ the woman replied slowly. ‘She was treated well, especially after she had borne I-wen, a sturdy, good-looking boy. But my sister was …’

  ‘She was a blasted …’ Hwang began. But his wife interrupted quickly: ‘Mind your nasty tongue!’ And to the judge: ‘She couldn’t help it, really. Perhaps it was Father’s fault, after all …’ She heaved a sigh and poured out the wine. ‘Till she was fifteen she was a very quiet, obedient girl, you know, fond of animals. One day she came home with a small fox-baby she had found. When Father saw it, he became terribly afraid, for it was a black one, you see, a vixen. He killed it at once. Then my sister got a fit, and she was never the same afterwards.’

  The hardware dealer gave the judge an uneasy look. ‘That lewd fox-spirit went into her.’

  His wife nodded. ‘Father hired a Taoist priest, and he said many spells, but he couldn’t get the fox-spirit out. When she was sixteen, she was making eyes at every young man in sight. Since she was a looker, mother had to keep an eye on her from morning till night. Then an old woman who peddled combs and powder in the big house told father that the First Lady of General Mo was looking for a concubine for the old master. Father was very glad, and when sister had been taken to see the First Lady and she approved of sister, the deal was concluded. All went well; she had to work hard in the big house, but the First Lady gave her a new dress at each and every festival, and after she had borne I-wen, she wasn’t beaten even once.’

  ‘Had to spoil everything herself, the slut!’ Hwang muttered. He hastily emptied his cup. His wife pushed a greying lock away from her forehead.

  ‘One day I met the First Lady’s maid in the market, and she said I was lucky to have a sister who didn’t forget her own, who insisted on seeing her parents once every week. Then I knew there was something terribly wrong, for my sister hadn’t come to see us for more than half a year. She did come afterwards, however. She was with child, and it wasn’t the general’s. I took her to a midwife who gave her all kinds of things to drink, but it didn’t help. She bore a girl, told the general it had been a miscarriage, and had the child abandoned in the street.’

  ‘That’s what she was!’ Hwang shouted angrily. ‘A cruel, heartless fox-woman!’

  ‘She was sorry she had to do it!’ his wife protested. ‘Wrapped the child up in a fine piece of brown Indian wool so that it wouldn’t catch cold. That expensive saffron stuff, the Buddhists use to …’ Seeing Judge Dee’s startled face, she went on quickly, ‘Sorry, Cousin, it’s not a nice story at all! It’s so long ago, but I still …’ She began to weep.

  Hwang patted her shoulder. ‘Come on, no tears on this fine day!’ And to the judge: ‘We’ve no children ourselves, you see. Talking about it always gets her that way! Well, to cut a long story short, the old general found out, you see. One of his chair-coolies told us that the old man shouted he’d drag her and the fellow to the hall, and cut their heads off with his own sword! She hanged herself, and the gener
al didn’t get round to cutting off her lover’s head, for the very next day the Emperor’s soldiers came, and they cut off his head! It’s a strange world, Cousin! Let’s have another drink. Here, you take one too, woman!’

  ‘Who was her lover?’ the judge asked.

  ‘She never told me, Cousin,’ the woman said, wiping her eyes. ‘Only said he was a very learned gentleman who could go in and out of the big house.’

  ‘Glad I chose the right sister!’ Hwang shouted. His face had become flushed. ‘My old woman works hard, takes in sewing and so we make both ends meet! But she doesn’t know nothing about men’s affairs, mind you! Wanted me to stop paying my fee to my guild! I says no, sell our winter clothes! If a man doesn’t belong somewhere, he’s nothing more than a stray dog! I was right there too, for that fine bolt of yours, Cousin, that’ll keep us dressed up nicely for years to come! It’s good for my business too, a well-dressed man behind the counter!’

  After the judge had finished his rice, he told the woman:

  ‘Take my card tomorrow to the back gate of the magistrate’s residence, Cousin. I have done business with the housemaster, and he’ll see to it that you get the sewing there.’ He got up.

  Hwang and his wife pressed him to stay, hut he said he had to be in time for the ferry across the river.

  The bearer took him back to the tea-house where the litter was waiting. He was carried back to the main street, his thoughts in a turmoil. Having paid the bearers off on the corner, he walked on to the tribunal. While the doorkeeper was admitting him by the side-gate, he learned from him that Magistrate Lo was in the ante-room, on the ground floor of the main building. Apparently the poetical gathering in the library had not yet started. The judge went quickly to his own courtyard.