The Chinese Maze Murders (11 page)

Read The Chinese Maze Murders Online

Authors: Robert van Gulik

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Police Procedural

BOOK: The Chinese Maze Murders
7.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“This ignorant monk,” the third added, “every day spent enraptured hours in front of our Gracious Lady, Amen!”

Judge Dee nodded with a satisfied smile. Turning to the senior scribe he said curtly:

“Give each of the complainants a piece of charcoal and a sheet of white paper!”

As these implements were handed to the astonished monks the judge ordered:

“You there on left walk to the left side of the dais. The monk on right goes to stand on right. You, Pillar of the Doctrine, turn round and face the audience!”

The monks shuffled to the positions indicated.

Then Judge Dee said peremptorily:

“Kneel and draw me a sketch of that golden statue!”

A murmur rose from the crowd.

“Silence!” shouted the constables.

The three monks were quite some time over their work. From time to time they scratched their bald heads. They perspired freely.

At last Judge Dee ordered Headman Fang:

“Show me those sketches!”

When the judge had seen the three sheets he pushed them disdainfully over the edge of the bench.

As they fluttered to the floor everyone could see that
they were completely different. One showed the goddess with four arms and three faces, the second with eight arms, and the third was an attempt to depict her in the familiar two-armed form with a small child by her side.

Judge Dee called out in a thunderous voice:

“These scoundrels filed a false accusation! Give them twenty blows with the bamboo!”

The constables threw the three monks with their faces on the floor. They turned up their robes and pulled down their loincloths. The bamboo sticks swished through the air.

The monks screamed and cursed as the bamboo tore their flesh. But the constables did not release them until they had had the full number of strokes.

They could not walk. A few helpful spectators dragged them away.

The judge announced:

“Before these crooked monks came forward I was justgoing to issue a warning that no one should try to gain illegal profit by filing trumped-up claims against Chien Mow. Let the fate of these three monks be a warning example!

“I wish to add that since this morning this district is no longer under martial law.”

Having thus spoken Judge Dee turned to Sergeant Hoong and whispered something. The sergeant hurriedly left the hall.

As he came back he shook his head.

“Order the warden of the jail,” the judge said in a low voice, “to call me immediately Chien Mow regains consciousness, even if it should be in the middle of the night!”

Then Judge Dee lifted his gavel. He was about to close the session when he noticed a commotion at the entrance of the court hall.

A young man was making frantic efforts to push through the packed crowd.

The judge ordered two constables to lead the newcomer before him.

As he sank panting to his knees before the dais, Judge Dee recognized Candidate Ding, the young man with whom he had drunk tea two days before.

“Your Honour!” Candidate Ding cried out, “that fiend Woo has foully murdered my old father!”

Eighth Chapter

AN OLD GENERAL IS MURDERED IN HIS OWN LIBRARY; JUDGE DEE GOES TO VISIT THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

J
UDGE
D
EE
leaned back in his chair.

He slowly folded his hands in his wide sleeves and said:

“State when and how the murder was discovered!”

“Last night,” Candidate Ding began, “we celebrated my father’s sixtieth birthday. The entire family had gathered round the festive dish in the main hall of our mansion and everyone was in high spirits. It was near midnight when my father rose and left the table. He said he would retire to his library and on this auspicious day write the preface to his history of the border wars. I myself conducted him to the door of the library. I knelt and wished him good night. My father closed the door and I heard him push the crossbar in its place.

“Alas, that was the last time I saw my revered father alive. This morning our steward knocked on the library door to apprise my father that breakfast was ready. When he received no answer despite repeated knocking, the steward called me. Fearing that my father had fallen ill during the night, we forced the door by beating in a panel with an axe.

“My father was lying slumped over his desk. I thought he was asleep and lightly touched his shoulder. Then I knew he was dead. I saw the hilt of a small dagger protrude from his throat.

“I rushed to this tribunal to report that Woo has dastardly
done to death my defenseless old father. I beseech Your Honour to avenge this terrible wrong!”

Candidate Ding burst out sobbing and knocked his head on the floor several times.

Judge Dee remained silent for a while, his thick eyebrows knitted in a deep frown. Then he spoke:

“Compose yourself, Candidate Ding! This tribunal shall open the investigation without delay. As soon as my suite is ready I shall proceed to the scene of the crime. Rest assured that justice shall be done!”

The judge hit his gavel on the bench and announced the session closed. He rose and disappeared behind the screen of his private office.

The constables had some difficulty in clearing the court hall. The spectators were eagerly discussing the exciting events. Everyone was full of praise for the new magistrate and admired his shrewdness in exposing the fraud of the three greedy monks.

Corporal Ling had followed the proceedings accompanied by two young soldiers. As he tightened his belt to go he remarked:

“That judge is an imposing magistrate, although he lacks of course that fine bearing of our two captains Ma and Chiao. That can be acquired only by long years of military service.”

One of the soldiers, a shrewd young fellow, asked:

“The judge announced that the martial law has been ended. That means that the army units that were here left during the night. But I have not seen one single soldier except our own!”

The corporal gave him a condescending look. He said sternly:

“Privates should not concern themselves with high strategy. Since, however, you are a keen youngster, I shall go
so far as to disclose to you that the regiment passed through here on an inspection tour of the entire border. This is an important military secret. One word about it and I’ll have your head chopped off!”

The soldier asked:

“But how could they leave without anybody seeing them, Corporal?”

“Soldier,” the corporal replied proudly, “nothing is impossible for our Imperial army! Did I never tell you about the crossing of the Yellow River? There was no bridge or ferry, and our General wished to cross. So two thousand of us jumped in the water holding each other’s hands so as to form two rows. One thousand soldiers stood themselves in between holding their shields over their heads. The General galloped on his horse over this iron bridge!”

The young soldier thought to himself that this was the most incredible story he had ever heard. But knowing the Corporal’s short temper he said respectfully “Yes, Sir!” They left the court hall together with the last spectators.

In the main courtyard the official palanquin of the judge had been put in readiness. Six constables were standing in front and six behind. Two soldiers were holding the horses of Sergeant Hoong and Tao Gan by the reins.

Judge Dee emerged from his office, still clad in his ceremonial dress. Sergeant Hoong assisted him while ascending the palanquin.

Then the sergeant and Tao Gan mounted their horses. The cortège moved out into the street. Two constables ran in front carrying long poles with placards bearing the inscription “The Tribunal of Lan-fang” in large letters. Two others beating copper hand-gongs headed the procession. They shouted: “Make way! Make way! His Excellency the Magistrate is approaching!”

The crowd stood respectfully aside. When they saw
Judge Dee’s palanquin they broke out in loud cheers, shouting “Long live our Magistrate!”

Sergeant Hoong who was riding by the side of the judge’s palanquin bent over to the window and remarked happily:

“That is quite different from three days ago, Your Honour!”

Judge Dee smiled bleakly.

The Ding mansion proved to be an imposing building.

Young Ding came out into the first courtyard to welcome the judge. As Judge Dee descended from his palanquin an old man with a shaggy grey beard came forward and presented himself as the coroner. In daily life he was the proprietor of a well known medicine shop.

Judge Dee announced that he would proceed directly to the scene of the murder. Headman Fang and six constables would go to the main hall and there set up a temporary tribunal and make the necessary preparations for the autopsy.

Candidate Ding invited the judge and his assistants to follow him.

He led them along a winding corridor to the back courtyard. They saw a charming landscape garden with artificial rocks and a large goldfish pond in the middle. The doors of the main hall stood wide open. The servants were busy clearing away the furniture.

Candidate Ding opened a small door on left and led them through a dark, covered corridor to a small yard of eight feet square, enclosed on three sides by a high wall. The wall opposite showed a narrow door of solid wood. One panel had been battered in. Young Ding pushed this door open and stood aside to let the judge pass.

A smell of stale candles hung in the air.

Judge Dee stepped over the threshold and looked around.

It was a fairly large room of octagonal shape. High up
on the wall there were four small windows with panes of coloured glass that filled the room with a soft, diffused light. Above the windows there were two grated openings of about two feet square. This was the only ventilation; except for the door through which they had entered, there were no other openings in the wall.

A spare figure clad in a house robe of dark green brocade was slumped over the huge writing desk of carved ebony standing in the centre of the room, facing the door. The head leaned on the crooked left arm, the right hand was stretched out on the desk still holding a writing brush of red lacquer. A small skull cap of black silk had dropped to the floor exposing the victim’s long grey hair.

The desk showed the usual array of writing implements. A blue porcelain vase with wilted flowers stood on a corner. On either side of the dead man there stood a copper candle stick; the candles had burned down entirely.

Judge Dee looked at the walls covered with bookshelves as high as a man can reach. He said to Tao Gan:

“Examine those walls for a secret panel. Inspect the windows and those openings there!”

As Tao Gan took off his outer robe preparatory to climbing on the bookshelves, the judge ordered the coroner to inspect the body.

The coroner felt the shoulders and arms. Then he tried to lift the head. The body had grown stiff. He had to turn it over backwards in the armchair in order to expose the dead man’s face.

The unseeing eyes of the old general stared at the ceiling. He had a lean, wrinkled face, frozen in an expression of surprise. From his scraggy throat there emerged an inch of a thin blade, not thicker than half a finger. It had a curious hilt made of plain wood, not much thicker than the blade and only half an inch long.

Judge Dee folded his arms and looked down on the body. After a while he said to the coroner:

“Pull that knife out!”

The coroner had difficulty in getting a hold on the diminutive hilt. When he had it between his thumb and forefinger, however, it came out easily. It had not penetrated deeper than about a quarter of an inch.

As the coroner carefully wrapped up the short weapon in a sheet of oil paper he observed:

“The blood has thickened and the body is entirely stiff. Death must have ensued late last night.”

The judge nodded. He mused:

“When the victim had barred the door he took off his ceremonial robe and cap that are hanging there next to the door, and changed into his house dress. Then he sat down behind the desk, rubbed ink and moistened his brush. The murderer must have struck shortly after, for the general had written only two lines when he was interrupted.

“The curious fact is that there cannot have been more than a few moments between his seeing the murderer and the dagger being stuck in his throat. He did not even lay down his brush.”

“Your Honour,” Tao Gan interrupted, “there is one fact which is still more curious. I cannot see how the murderer entered this room, let alone how he left it!”

Judge Dee raised his eyebrows.

“The only way by which a person can enter this room,” Tao Gan continued, “is by that door. I have examined the walls, the small windows above the bookshelves and the grated openings. Finally I examined the door itself for a secret panel. But there are no hidden entrances of any description!”

Tugging at his moustache Judge Dee asked Candidate Ding:

“Could the murderer not have slipped in shortly before or after your father entered here?”

Candidate Ding who had been standing with a glazed stare by the door now took a hold of himself and replied:

“Impossible, Your Honour! When my father came here he unlocked the door. He stood for a moment in the entrance while I knelt. Our steward stood behind me. Then I rose and my father closed the door. No one could have entered then or before. My father keeps that door always locked and he has the only key.”

Sergeant Hoong bent over to the judge and whispered in his ear:

“We shall have to hear that steward, Your Honour. Yet even if we assume that the murderer somehow or other slipped in here unobserved, I cannot see how he went out again. This door was found barred on the inside!”

Judge Dee nodded. To Candidate Ding he said:

“You assume that this murder was committed by Woo. Can you point out anything that proves that he was in this room?”

Ding slowly looked round. He sadly shook his head and said:

“That Woo is a clever man, Your Honour, he would not leave any traces. But I am convinced that a further investigation will bring to light clear proof of his guilt!”

Other books

Deadman Switch by Timothy Zahn
Luca by Jacob Whaler
Collide & Burn by Conn, Claudy
Seaview by Toby Olson
Jason and the Argonauts by Apollonius of Rhodes
Plain Killing by Emma Miller