The Mammoth Book of Historical Whodunnits Volume 1 (The Mammoth Book Series)

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The Mammoth Book of Historical Whodunnits Volume 1 (The Mammoth Book Series) Page 18

by Mike Ashley


  Judge Dee sat down again and took his folding fan from his sleeve. Fanning himself, he concentrated his thoughts on this unusual pawnbroker. The only glimpse the outer world got of the sensitive nature of this man was his love of birds, evinced by the paddy birds downstairs. At last the judge got up. About to put his fan back into his sleeve, he suddenly checked himself. He looked at the fan absentmindedly for a while, then laid it on the desk. After a last look at the room he went downstairs.

  His host offered him another cup of tea but Judge Dee shook his head. Handing Lin the two keys, he said, “I have to go back to the tribunal now. I found nothing among your partner’s papers suggesting that he had any enemies, so I think that this case is exactly what it seems, namely a case of murder for gain. To a poor man, three silver pieces are a fortune. Why are those birds fluttering about?” He went to the cage. “Aha, their water is dirty. You ought to tell the servant to change it, Mr. Lin.”

  Lin muttered something and clapped his hands. Judge Dee groped in his sleeve. “How careless of me!” he exclaimed. “I left my fan on the desk upstairs. Would you fetch it for me, Mr. Lin?”

  Just as Lin was rushing to the staircase, the old manservant came in. When the judge had told him that the water in the reservoir of the birdcage ought to be changed daily, the old man said, shaking his head, “I told Mr. Lin so, but he wouldn’t listen. Doesn’t care for birds. My master now, he loved them, he . . .”

  “Yes, Mr. Lin told me that last night he had an argument with your master about those birds.”

  “Well yes, sir, both of them got quite excited. What was it about, sir? I only caught a few words about birds when I brought the rice.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” the judge said quickly. He had heard Mr. Lin come downstairs. “Well, Mr. Lin, thanks for the tea. Come to the chancery in, say, one hour, with the most important documents relating to your late partner’s assets. My senior clerk will help you fill out the official forms, and the registration of Mr. Choong’s will.”

  Mr. Lin thanked the judge profusely and saw him respectfully to the door.

  Judge Dee told the guards at the gate of the tribunal to return his rented horse to the blacksmith, and went straight to his private residence at the back of the chancery. The old housemaster informed him that Sergeant Hoong was waiting in his private office. The judge nodded. “Tell the bathroom attendant that I want to take a bath now.”

  In the black-tiled dressing-room adjoining the bath he quickly stripped off his robe, drenched with sweat and rain. He felt soiled, in body and in mind. The attendant sluiced him with cold water, and vigorously scrubbed his back. But it was only after the judge had been lying in the sunken pool in hot water for some time that he began to feel better. Thereafter he had the attendant massage his shoulders, and when he had been rubbed dry he put on a crisp clean robe of blue cotton, and placed a cap of thin black gauze on his head. In this attire he walked over to his women’s quarters.

  About to enter the garden room where his ladies usually passed the morning, he halted a moment, touched by the peaceful scene. His two wives, clad in flowered robes of thin silk, were sitting with Miss Tsao at the red-lacquered table in front of the open sliding doors. The walled-in rock garden outside, planted with ferns and tall, rustling bamboos, suggested refreshing coolness. This was his own private world, a clean haven of refuge from the outside world of cruel violence and repulsive decadence he had to deal with in his official life. Then and there he took the firm resolution that he would preserve his harmonious family life intact, always.

  His First Lady put her embroidery frame down and quickly came to meet him. “We have been waiting with breakfast for you for nearly an hour!” she told him reproachfully.

  “I am sorry. The fact is that there was some trouble at the North Gate and I had to attend to it at once. I must go to the chancery now, but I shall join you for the noon rice.” She conducted him to the door. When she was making her bow he told her in a low voice, “By the way, I have decided to follow your advice in the matter we discussed last night. Please make the necessary arrangements.”

  With a pleased smile she bowed again, and the judge went down the corridor that led to the chancery.

  He found Sergeant Hoong sitting in an armchair in the corner of his private office. His old adviser got up and wished him a good morning. Tapping the document in his hand, the sergeant said, “I was relieved when I got this report, Your Honour, for we were getting worried about your prolonged absence! I had the prisoner locked up in jail, and the dead body deposited in the mortuary. After I had viewed it with the coroner, Ma Joong and Chiao Tai, your two lieutenants, rode to the North Gate to see whether you needed any assistance.”

  Judge Dee had sat down behind his desk. He looked askance at the pile of dossiers. “Is there anything urgent among the incoming documents, Hoong?”

  “No, sir. All those files concern routine administrative matters.”

  “Good. Then we shall devote the noon session to the murder of the pawnbroker Choong.”

  The sergeant nodded contentedly. “I saw from the captain’s report, Your Honour, that it is a fairly simple case. And since we have the murder suspect safely under lock and key . . .”

  The judge shook his head. “No, Hoong, I wouldn’t call it a simple case, exactly. But thanks to the quick measures of the military police, and thanks to the lucky chance that brought me right into the middle of things, a definite pattern has emerged.”

  He clapped his hands. When the headman came inside and made his bow the judge ordered him to bring the prisoner Wang before him. He went on to the sergeant, “I am perfectly aware, Hoong, that a judge is supposed to interrogate an accused only publicly, in court. But this is not a formal hearing. A general talk for my orientation, rather.”

  Sergeant Hoong looked doubtful, but the judge vouchsafed no further explanation, and began to leaf through the topmost file on his desk. He looked up when the headman brought Wang inside. The chains had been taken off him, but his swarthy face looked as surly as before. The headman pressed him down on his knees, then stood himself behind him, his heavy whip in his hands.

  “Your presence is not required, Headman,” Judge Dee told him curtly.

  The headman cast a worried glance at Sergeant Hoong. “This is a violent ruffian, Your Honour,” he began diffidently. “He might . . .”

  “You heard me!” the judge snapped.

  After the disconcerted headman had left, Judge Dee leaned back in his chair. He asked the young fisherman in a conversational tone, “How long have you been living on the waterfront, Wang?”

  “Ever since I can remember,” the boy muttered.

  “It’s a strange land,” the judge said slowly to Sergeant Hoong. “When I was riding through the marsh this morning, I saw weirdly shaped clouds drifting about, and shreds of mist that looked like long arms reaching up out of the water, as if . . .”

  The youngster had been listening intently. Now he interrupted quickly: “Better not speak of those things!”

  “Yes, you know all about those things, Wang. On stormy nights, there must be more going on in the marshlands than we city-dwellers realize.”

  Wang nodded vigorously. “I’ve seen many things,” he said in a low voice, “with my own eyes. They all come up from the water. Some can harm you, others help drowning people, sometimes. But it’s better to keep away from them, anyway.”

  “Exactly! Yet you made bold to interfere, Wang. And see what has happened to you now! You were arrested, you were kicked and beaten, and now you are a prisoner accused of murder!”

  “I told you I didn’t kill him!”

  “Yes. But did you know who or what killed him? Yet you stabbed him when he was dead. Several times.”

  “I saw red . . .” Wang muttered. “If I’d known sooner, I’d have cut his throat. For I know him by sight, the rat, the . . .”

  “Hold your tongue!” Judge Dee interrupted him sharply. “You cut up a dead man, and that’s a mean and cowa
rdly thing to do!” He continued, calmer, “However, since even in your blind rage you spared Oriole by refraining from an explanation, I am willing to forget what you did. How long have you been going with her?”

  “Over a year. She’s sweet, and she’s clever too. Don’t believe she’s a half-wit! She can write more than a hundred characters. I can read only a dozen or so.”

  Judge Dee took the three silver pieces from his sleeve and laid them on the desk. “Take this silver, it belongs rightly to her and to you. Buy your boat and marry her. She needs you, Wang.” The youngster snatched the silver and tucked it in his belt. The judge went on, “You’ll have to go back to jail for a few hours, for I can’t release you until you have been formally cleared of the murder charge. Then you’ll be set free. Learn to control your temper, Wang!”

  He clapped his hands. The headman came in at once. He had been waiting just outside the door, ready to rush inside at the first sign of trouble.

  “Take the prisoner back to his cell, headman. Then fetch Mr. Lin. You’ll find him in the chancery.”

  Sergeant Hoong had been listening with mounting astonishment. Now he asked with a perplexed look, “What were you talking about with that young fellow, Your Honour? I couldn’t follow it at all. Are you really intending to let him go?”

  Judge Dee rose and went to the window. Looking out at the dreary, wet courtyard, he said, “It’s raining again! What was I talking about, Hoong? I was just checking whether Wang really believed all those weird superstitions. One of these days, Hoong, you might try to find in our chancery library a book on local folklore.”

  “But you don’t believe all that nonsense, sir!”

  “No, I don’t. Not all of it, at least. But I feel I ought to read up on the subject, for it plays a large role in the daily life of the common people of our district. Pour me a cup of tea, will you?”

  While the sergeant prepared the tea, Judge Dee resumed his seat and concentrated on the official documents on his desk. After he had drunk a second cup, there was a knock at the door. The headman ushered Mr. Lin inside, then discreetly withdrew.

  “Sit down, Mr. Lin!” the judge addressed his guest affably. “I trust my senior clerk gave you the necessary instructions for the documents to be drawn up?”

  “Yes, indeed, Your Honour. Right now we were checking the landed property with the register and . . .”

  “According to the will drawn up a year ago,” the judge cut in, “Mr. Choong bequeathed all the land to his two sons, together with two-thirds of his capital, as you know. One-third of the capital, and the pawnshop, he left to you. Are you planning to continue the business?”

  “No, sir,” Lin replied with his thin smile. “I have worked in that pawnshop for more than thirty years, from morning till night. I shall sell it, and live off the rent from my capital.”

  “Precisely. But suppose Mr. Choong had made a new will? Containing a new clause stipulating that you were to get only the shop?” As Lin’s face went livid, he went on quickly, “It’s a prosperous business, but it would take you four or five years to assemble enough capital to retire. And you are getting on in years, Mr. Lin.”

  “Impossible! How . . . how could he . . .” Lin stammered. Then he snapped, “Did you find a new will in his strongbox?”

  Instead of answering the question, Judge Dee said coldly: “Your partner had a mistress, Mr. Lin. Her love came to mean more to him than anything else.”

  Lin jumped up. “Do you mean to say that the old fool willed his money to that deaf-mute slut?”

  “Yes, you know all about that affair, Mr. Lin. Since last night, when your partner told you. You had a violent quarrel. No, don’t try to deny it! Your manservant overheard what you said, and he will testify in court.”

  Lin sat down again. He wiped his moist face. Then he began, calmer now, “Yes, sir, I admit that I got very angry when my partner informed me last night that he loved that girl. He wanted to take her away to some distant place and marry her. I tried to make him see how utterly foolish that would be, but he told me to mind my own business and ran out of the house in a huff. I had no idea he would go to the tower. It’s common knowledge that that young hoodlum Wang is carrying on with the half-wit. Wang surprised the two, and he murdered my partner. I apologize for not having mentioned these facts to you this morning, sir. I couldn’t bring myself to compromise my late partner . . . And since you had arrested the murderer, everything would have come out anyway in court . . .” He shook his head. “I am partly to blame, sir. I should have gone after him last night, I should’ve . . .”

  “But you did go after him, Mr. Lin,” Judge Dee interrupted curtly. “You are a fisherman too, you know the marsh as well as your partner. Ordinarily one can’t cross the marsh, but after a heavy rain the water rises, and an experienced boatman in a shallow skiff could paddle across by way of the swollen gullies and pools.”

  “Impossible! The road is patrolled by the military police all night!”

  “A man crouching in a skiff could take cover behind the tall reeds, Mr. Lin. Therefore your partner could only visit the tower on nights after a heavy rain. And therefore the poor half-witted girl took the visitor for a supernatural being, a rain spirit. For he came with the rain.” He sighed. Suddenly he fixed Lin with his piercing eyes and said sternly, “When Mr. Choong told you about his plans last night, Lin, you saw all your long-cherished hopes of a life in ease and luxury go up into thin air. Therefore you followed Choong, and you murdered him in the tower by thrusting a knife into his back.”

  Lin raised his hands. “What a fantastic theory, sir! How do you propose to prove this slanderous accusation?”

  “By Mrs. Pei’s pawn-ticket, among other things. It was found by the military police on the scene of the crime. But Mr. Choong had completely retired from the business, as you told me yourself. Why then would he be carrying a pawn-ticket that had been issued that very day?” As Lin remained silent, Judge Dee went on, “You decided on the spur of the moment to murder Choong, and you rushed after him. It was the hour after the evening rice, so the shopkeepers in your neighbourhood were on the lookout for their evening custom when you passed. Also on the quay, where you took off in your small skiff, there were an unusual number of people about, because it looked like heavy rain was on its way.” The glint of sudden panic in Lin’s eyes was the last confirmation the judge had been waiting for. He concluded in an even voice, “If you confess now, Mr. Lin, sparing me the trouble of sifting out all the evidence of the eyewitnesses, I am prepared to add a plea for clemency to your death sentence, on the ground that it was unpremeditated murder.”

  Lin stared ahead with a vacant look. All at once his pale face became distorted by a spasm of rage. “The despicable old lecher!” he spat. “Made me sweat and slave all those years . . . and now he was going to throw all that good money away on a cheap, half-witted slut! The money I made for him . . .” He looked steadily at the judge as he added in a firm voice, “Yes, I killed him. He deserved it.”

  Judge Dee gave the sergeant a sign. While Hoong went to the door the judge told the pawnbroker, “I shall hear your full confession during the noon session.”

  They waited in silence till the sergeant came back with the headman and two constables. They put Lin in chains and led him away.

  “A sordid case, sir,” Sergeant Hoong remarked dejectedly.

  The judge took a sip from his teacup and held it up to be refilled. “Pathetic, rather. I would even call Lin pathetic, Hoong, were it not for the fact that he made a determined effort to incriminate Wang.”

  “What was Wang’s role in all this, sir? You didn’t even ask him what he did this morning!”

  “There was no need to, for what happened is as plain as a pikestaff. Oriole had told Wang that a rain spirit visited her at night and sometimes gave her money. Wang considered it a great honour that she had relations with a rain spirit. Remember that only half a century ago in many of the river districts in our Empire the people immolated every year
a young boy or girl as a human sacrifice to the local river god – until the authorities stepped in. When Wang came to the tower this morning to bring Oriole her fish, he found in her room a dead man lying on his face on the floor. The crying Oriole gave him to understand that goblins had killed the rain spirit and changed him into an ugly old man. When Wang turned over the corpse and recognized the old man, he suddenly understood that he and Oriole had been deceived, and in a blind rage pulled his knife and stabbed the dead man. Then he realized that this was a murder case and he would be suspected. So he fled. The military police caught him while trying to wash his trousers which had become stained with Choong’s blood.”

  Sergeant Hoong nodded. “How did you discover all this in only a few hours, sir?”

  “At first I thought the captain’s theory hit the nail on the head. The only point which worried me a bit was the long interval between the murder and the stabbing of the victim’s breast. I didn’t worry a bit about the pawn-ticket, for it is perfectly normal for a pawnbroker to carry a ticket about that he has made out that very same day. Then, when questioning Wang, it struck me that he called Choong a crook. That was a slip of the tongue, for Wang was determined to keep both Oriole and himself out of this, so as not to have to divulge that they had let themselves be fooled. While I was interviewing Oriole she stated that the ‘goblins’ had killed and changed her rain spirit. I didn’t understand that at all. It was during my visit to Lin that at last I got on the right track. Lin was nervous and therefore garrulous, and told me at length about his partner taking no part at all in the business. I remembered the pawn-ticket found on the murder scene, and began to suspect Lin. But it was only after I had inspected the dead man’s library and got a clear impression of his personality that I found the solution. I checked my theory by eliciting from the manservant the fact that Lin and Choong had quarrelled about Oriole the night before. The name Oriole meant of course nothing to the servant, but he told me they had a heated argument about birds. The rest was routine.”

 

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