“But to make them tell outsiders about those things,” Ma Joong said, “is quite another matter!”
The rain had stopped, the boat was going more steadily now. Chiao Tai was looking better. He said:
“I think, Your Honor, that there’s an even more pressing task ahead, namely that we search the dancer’s room in the house in the Willow Quarter. The murderer had to improvise his crime after he had boarded this boat and if she kept in her room letters or other proof of her relation with him, he’ll hurry there as soon as we have landed in order to destroy those clues.”
“You are quite right, Chiao Tai,” Judge Dee said approvingly. “As soon as we have landed, Ma Joong shall run ahead to the Willow Quarter, and arrest anybody who wants to enter the dancer’s house. I’ll go there in my palanquin, and we shall search her room together.”
There were loud shouts outside, indicating that they were nearing the landing stage. Judge Dee rose and said to Chiao Tai:
“You’ll wait here for the constables. Tell them to seal this cabin, and let two of them stand guard in front of this cabin till tomorrow morning. I’ll tell the owner of the dead woman’s house to send an undertaker tomorrow for encoffining the body.”
As they stepped out on deck they found that the moon had come out again. Its rays shone on a dismal scene. The storm had blown away all the colored lamps and torn the bamboo curtains of the dining room to shreds. The gay boat now presented a disheveled appearance.
A very subdued crowd awaited the judge on the landing stage. During the storm the guests had fled to the sitting room and the close air there, together with the rocking, had made them feel all the more miserable. As soon as Judge Dee had told them that they could go home they rushed to their sedan chairs.
The judge ascended his palanquin. After they were out of earshot he told the bearers to take him to the Willow Quarter.
When the judge and Sergeant Hoong entered the first courtyard of Almond Blossom’s house they heard loud laughter coming from the dining room beyond. Despite the late hour a party was still in progress there.
The manager of the house came rushing out to meet these unexpected visitors. When he recognized the judge he fell on his knees and three times knocked his head on the floor. Then he inquired in a cringing voice the magistrate’s pleasure.
“I want to examine the room occupied by the courtesan Almond Blossom,” he said curtly. “Take us there!”
The manager hastily led them to the broad staircase of polished wood. Upstairs they found a dimly lit corridor. The manager halted before one of the red-lacquered doors and entered first to light the candles. He cried out in terror when an iron hand closed round his arm.
“It’s the manager; let him go!” Judge Dee said quickly. “How did you come here?”
Ma Joong said with a grin:
“I thought it better that nobody should see me enter, so I vaulted over the garden wall and climbed up on the balcony. I found a maid asleep in a corner and made her point out the dancer’s room. I waited behind the door here but no one came.”
“Good work!” the judge said. “You can go downstairs now together with the manager. Keep an eye on the entrance!”
Judge Dee sat down in front of the dressing table of carved black-wood and started to pull out the drawers. The sergeant went over to the pile of four clothes boxes of red-lacquered leather that stood beside the large couch. He opened the one on top, marked “Summer,” and went through its contents.
In the upper drawer of the dressing table the judge found nothing but the usual toilet articles, but the lower one was full of cards and letters. He quickly glanced through them. A few letters were written by Almond Blossom’s mother in Shansi—acknowledgments of money transmitted by the girl, and news about her small brother, who was doing well in school. The father seemed to be dead. She wrote in a polished literary style and the judge again marveled what cruel fate had compelled a girl from a good family to enter such a questionable profession. The rest were all poems and letters from admirers; leafing through them, Judge Dee found the signatures of all the guests who had been present at the banquet, including Han Yung-han. These documents were written in the customary formal style. Invitations to attend banquets, compliments about her dancing—nothing of a more intimate character. Thus it was very difficult to assess the exact relations of the courtesan with those gentlemen.
He gathered all the papers in a sheaf and put them in his sleeve for further study.
“Here are some more, Your Honor!” Sergeant Hoong suddenly exclaimed. He showed the judge a package of letters carefully wrapped up in tissue paper which he had found on the bottom of the clothes box. Judge Dee saw at a glance that these were real love letters, couched in passionate language. All were signed with the same pen name: “The Student of the Bamboo Grove.”
“That man must have been her lover!” the judge said eagerly. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to identify the writer. Style and hand-
writing are excellent; he must belong to the small group of literati in this town.”
A further search produced no other clues. The judge walked out on the balcony and remained standing there for a while, looking out over the landscape garden below. The rays of the moon were reflected in the water of the small artificial lotus ponds among^ the flowers. How many times the dancer would have stood here, looking at this same nostalgic scene! He abruptly turned round. Apparently he had not yet served long enough as a magistrate to remain unperturbed by the sudden death of a beautiful woman.
The judge blew out the candles, and he went back downstairs followed by Sergeant Hoong.
Ma Joong was standing in the portal talking with the manager. The latter bowed deeply when he saw the judge.
Judge Dee folded his arms in his sleeves.
“You’ll realize,” he sternly addressed the manager, “that since this is a murder investigation, I could have had my constables turn your house upside down and question all your guests. I refrained from doing so because for the time being such measures do not seem necessary, and I never importune people without sufficient reason. You shall, however, draw up immediately a detailed report containing everything you know about the dead dancer. Her real name, her age, when and under what circumstances she entered your house, who were the guests she usually associated with, what games she could play, and so on. See to it that your report reaches me early tomorrow morning, written out in triplicate!”
The manager knelt and started upon a long tirade to express his gratitude. But Judge Dee cut him short, saying impatiently:
“Tomorrow you’ll send an undertaker to the flower boat to fetch the body. And see to it that her family in Ping-yang is informed of her demise.”
As he turned to the door, Ma Joong said:
“I beg to be allowed to follow Your Honor later.”
Judge Dee caught his meaningful look. He nodded his assent and ascended his palanquin together with Sergeant Hoong. The constables lighted their torches. Slowly the procession went its way through the deserted streets of Han-yuan.
Fifth Chapter
MA JOONG TELLS OF THE SECRET OF A DANCER; A PROFESSOR IS ACCUSED OF A HEINOUS CRIME
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, just after dawn, when Sergeant Hoong reported for duty, he found Judge Dee sitting already fully dressed in his private office at the back of the court hall.
The judge had arranged the letters found in the courtesan’s clothes box in neat piles on his desk. As the sergeant poured out a cup of tea for him, the judge said:
“I have read through all these letters carefully, Hoong. Her affair with that so-called Student of the Bamboo Grove must have started about half a year ago. The early letters refer to a gradually developing friendship; the latter ones speak of a passionate love. About two months ago, however, the passion seemed to wane. There is a marked change in tone; here and there I find some passages that could be construed as threats. That man must be found, Hoong!”
“The senior scribe
of our tribunal is an amateur poet, Your Honor,” Sergeant Hoong said eagerly. “In his spare time he acts as recording secretary of the local literary club. He could probably identify that pseudonym!”
“Excellent!” Judge Dee commented. “You’ll presently go to the chancery and ask him. First, however, I want to show you this.” He took from a drawer in his desk a thin sheet of paper and spread it out flat. The sergeant recognized the chess problem found in the dead girl’s sleeve. Tapping it with his forefinger the judge said:
“Yesterday night after we had come back from the Willow Quarter I had a good look at this chess problem. The curious thing is that I can’t make head or tail of it!
THE CHESS PROBLEM
“I admit that I am no expert at this game, but I played it often in my student days. As you see, the square is divided by eighteen columns either way, producing 289 points where they cross each other. One player has 150 white men, his opponent the same number of black ones. These men are small round stones, all of the same value. Starting with a clear board, the two participants play alternately, placing one stone on a point. The aim is to take as many of the other player’s men as possible by surrounding them completely, single or in groups. The men thus taken are immediately removed from the board. He wins who succeeds in occupying the greatest number of points on the board.”
“That sounds quite simple!” Hoong observed.
Judge Dee answered with a smile.
“The rules are indeed simple, but the game itself is most complicated; they say that a man’s lifetime hardly suffices for mastering all its intricacies!
“Our great chess masters often published manuals of the game, illustrated with diagrams of interesting positions, and also problems with detailed explanations. This sheet must have been torn from such a handbook. It is the last page, for you see the word finis printed in the lower left corner. Unfortunately, the title of the book is not indicated. You must try to locate a chess expert here in Han-yuan, Hoong. Such a person will doubtless be able to tell from which book this sheet was torn. The explanation of this particular problem must have been printed on the penultimate page.”
Ma Joong and Chiao Tai entered and greeted the judge. When they were seated in front of his desk he said to Ma Joong:
“I suppose that last night you stayed behind in order to gather information. Tell me the result!”
Ma Joong placed his large fists on his knees. He began with a smile.
“Yesterday Your Honor mentioned the possibility of getting information on the courtesan’s private life from the other inmates of her house. Now it so happened that last night when we were passing there on our way to the lake, one girl standing on the balcony rather caught my fancy. So when we visited the house later, I described her to the manager, and the obliging fellow immediately had her called away from the dinner party she was attending. Her name is Peach Blossom, a most apt appellation indeed!”
Ma Joong paused. He twirled his mustache and his grin grew broader as he continued.
“She is indeed a most charming girl and somehow or other I didn’t seem to displease her either. At least she-”
“Spare me,” Judge Dee interrupted peevishly, “the details of your amorous exploits! We’ll take it for granted that you two got along well together. Now what did she tell you about the dead dancer?”
Ma Joong looked hurt. He heaved a sigh, then went on with resigned patience.
“Well, Your Honor, this girl Peach Blossom was a close friend of the dead courtesan. The dancer arrived in the Willow Quarter about one year ago, one of a batch of four brought by a procurer from the capital. She told Peach Blossom that she had left her home in Shansi because of an unfortunate incident, and that she could never go back there. She was rather particular; although a number of distinguished guests tried hard to win her favor she politely refused all of them. Guildmaster Soo especially was most assiduous in his attentions and gave her many costly presents, but he never had a chance.”
“That,” Judge Dee interrupted, “we’ll note down as a point against Soo. Scorned love is often a powerful motive.”
“However,” Ma Joong continued, “Peach Blossom is convinced that Almond Blossom was by no means a cold woman; the fact is that she must have had a secret lover. At least once a week she would ask the manager’s permission to go out shopping. Since she was a steady and obedient girl who never had shown the slightest inclination to run away, the manager always said yes. She went alone, and her friend assumed it was to a secret rendezvous. But she never found out who it was or where she met him, though not for want of trying, I am sure!”
“How long was she gone each time?” the judge asked.
“She would leave shortly after the noon meal,” Ma Joong answered, “and come back just before the evening rice was served.”
“That means that she couldn’t have gone outside the town,” Judge Dee observed. “Go and ask the scribe about that pen name, Sergeant!”
As Hoong went out a clerk entered and handed the judge a large sealed envelope. Judge Dee opened it and spread a long letter out on his desk. It had two copies attached to it. Caressing his side-whiskers, he slowly read it through. Just as he was leaning back in his chair Sergeant Hoong came back. Shaking his head Hoong said:
“Our senior scribe is certain, Your Honor, that no scholar or writer in this district uses the sobriquet Student of the Bamboo Grove.”
“That’s a pity!” Judge Dee said. Then, sitting straight and pointing to the letter in front of him, he went on in a brisk voice. “Now we have here the report of the manager of the courtesan’s house. Her real name was Miss Fan Ho-i, and she was bought seven months ago from a procurer of the capital, exactly as Peach Flower or whatever she’s called told Ma Joong. The price was two gold bars.
“The procurer stated that he had purchased her under unusual circumstances. She had approached him herself and agreed to sell herself for one gold bar and fifty silver pieces, on condition that she would be resold only in Han-yuan. The procurer thought it strange that this girl transacted the deal herself, instead of through her parents or through a middleman. But since she was good-looking and skilled in singing and dancing he saw a handsome profit and did not trouble to question her. He paid her the money and she disposed of it herself. However, since the house in the Willow Quarter was a good client, the procurer thought it wise to inform the manager of the unusual manner in which he had acquired the girl, so as to bear no responsibility if later complications should arise.”
Here the judge paused, and angrily shook his head. Then he went on:
“The manager asked her a few pertinent questions but as she evaded a direct answer he let the matter go. He says that he assumed that her parents had expelled her because of an illicit love affair. The other details about her life in the house tally with what Ma Joong learned from the other girl. The manager notes here the names of the citizens who showed particular interest in Almond Blossom. The list includes nearly all the prominent citizens of Han-yuan, but not Liu Fei-po and Han Yung-han. On occasion he urged her to accept one of those as her lover, but she had steadfastly refused. Since she brought in good money by her dancing alone, the manager had never insisted.
“Now, at the end of his report he states that she liked literary games, wrote a good hand, and was a more than average painter of birds and flowers. But he says specifically that she didn’t like chess!”
Judge Dee paused. Looking at his lieutenants he asked:
“Now how do you explain the remark she made to me about playing chess, and her carrying that chess problem in her sleeve?”
Ma Joong perplexedly scratched his head. Chiao Tai asked:
“Could I have a look at that problem, Your Honor? I used to be rather fond of the game.”
The judge pushed the sheet over to him. Chiao Tai studied the problem for a while; then he said:
“That is quite a meaningless position, Your Honor! White occupies nearly the entire board. One might conceivably reconstruct s
ome of the moves whereby it blocked black’s progress, but in black’s position there’s neither rhyme nor reason!”
Judge Dee knitted his eyebrows. He remained in thought for some time.
He was roused by three beats on the large bronze gong suspended at the main gate. They reverberated through the tribunal, announcing that the morning session was to be opened.
The judge replaced the chess problem in his drawer and rose with a sigh. Sergeant Hoong assisted him in donning his official robe of dark-green brocade. As he was adjusting the black winged judge’s cap on his head, he said to the three men:
“I shall first review the murder on the flower boat. Fortunately, there are no other cases pending, so we can concentrate our attention on this baffling murder.”
Ma Joong drew aside the heavy curtain that separated the judge’s private office from the court hall. Judge Dee passed through and ascended the dais. He sat down behind the high bench covered with scarlet brocade. Ma Joong and Chiao Tai stood themselves behind his chair, Sergeant Hoong took his customary place at Judge Dee’s right hand.
The constables stood in two rows in front of the dais carrying whips, clubs, chains, handscrews and the other paraphernalia of their office. The senior scribe and his assistants were sitting at lower tables on either side of the dais, ready to note down the proceedings.
Judge Dee surveyed the court hall. He noticed that a large crowd of spectators had gathered. The news of the murder in the flower boat had spread like wildfire and the citizens of Han-yuan were eager to hear all the details. In the front row he saw Han Yung-han, the Kang brothers and the guildmasters Peng and Soo. He wondered why Liu Fei-po and Master Wang were not there; the headman of the constables had notified all of them that they would have to be present.
He rapped his gavel on the bench and declared the session open. He then commenced to call the roll.
Suddenly a group of people appeared at the entrance of the court hall. They were headed by Liu Fei-po, who shouted excitedly:
The Chinese Lake Murders Page 5