The Chinese Maze Murders (4 page)

Second Chapter

JUDGE DEE OPENS THE FIRST SESSION OF THE TRIBUNAL; HE DISCOVERS IN THE ARCHIVES AN UNSOLVED PROBLEM

C
HIAO
T
AI
looked amazed at the formidable gate surmounted by a high gate tower. Then he remembered that Lan-fang was a border town where one had to reckon with sudden attacks from the barbarian hordes of the western plains.

He knocked with the hilt of his sword on the iron-studded gate.

After considerable time the shutters of a small window in the gate tower opened. A gruff voice called out from above:

“The gate is closed for the night. Come back tomorrow morning!”

Chiao Tai gave a thunderous knock on the gate. He shouted:

“Open up, the magistrate has arrived!”

“What magistrate?” the voice asked.

“His Excellency Dee, the new magistrate of Lan-fang. Open the gate, you fathead!”

The shutters slammed shut.

Ma Joong rode up to Chiao Tai. He asked:

“What is all this delay?”

“The lazy dogs were asleep!” Chiao Tai said disgustedly. As he spoke he let his sword again rattle on the door.

They heard the clanking of chains. At last the heavy doors opened a few feet.

Chiao Tai forced his horse through, and nearly trampled down two slovenly clad soldiers wearing rusty helmets.

“Throw the gates wide open, lazy dogs!” Chiao Tai barked.

The soldiers looked impudently at the two horsemen. One opened his mouth to say something, but seeing the fierce look on Chiao Tai’s face he thought better of it. Together with his colleague he pushed open the gate.

The cortège passed through and moved south along the dark main street.

The town presented a desolate appearance. Although the first nightwatch had not yet sounded most of the shops were closed for the night with solid wooden shutters.

Here and there small groups of people clustered round the oil lamps of the street vendors .When the cortège passed by they turned round and looked for a moment indifferently at the horse wagons, then turned again to their noodle bowls.

No one came to meet the new magistrate and there were no signs of welcome.

The cortège passed under a high ornamental archway that spanned the street. Here the main street divided to left and right, running along a high wall. Ma Joong and Chiao Tai took this to be the rear wall of the tribunal compound.

They turned east and followed the wall till they came to a large gate. Over its archway there hung a weather-beaten wooden board with an engraved inscription reading:

“The Tribunal of Lan-fang”

Chiao Tai jumped from his horse and started to knock on the door with all his might.

A squat man clad in a patched robe opened the door. His ragged beard was dirty with grease and he had a horrible squint. Lifting up a paper lantern he surveyed Chiao Tai. Then he snarled:

“Don’t you know that the tribunal is closed, soldier?”

This was too much for Chiao Tai. He gripped the man by his beard and violently shook his head; it bumped against the doorpost with dull thuds. Chiao Tai only released him when the man started crying for mercy.

Chiao Tai said peremptorily:

“His Excellency Magistrate Dee has arrived. Open the door and call the personnel of the tribunal!”

The man hurriedly pushed the double doors open. The cortège passed through and came to a halt in the main courtyard, in front of the large reception hall.

Judge Dee descended from his cart and looked around. The high, sixfold doors of the reception hall were barred and locked, the windows of the chancery opposite shuttered. Everything was dark and deserted.

Folding his hands in his sleeves Judge Dee ordered Chiao Tai to bring the gate keeper before him.

Chiao Tai dragged him along by his collar. The squat man hastily knelt.

Judge Dee asked curtly:

“Who are you, and where is the outgoing magistrate, His Excellency Kwang?”

“This insignificant person,” the man stammered, “is the warden of the jail. His Excellency Kwang left early this morning by the southern city gate.”

“Where are the seals of office?”

“They must be somewhere in the chancery,” the warden answered in a quavering voice.

Judge Dee’s patience gave out. He stamped his foot on the ground and shouted:

“Where are the guards, where are the constables? Where are the scribes, where are the clerks, where is everybody in this accursed tribunal?”

“The headman of the constables left last month. The
senior scribe has been on sick leave for the last three weeks, and . ..”

“So there is nobody but you,” the judge interrupted him. Turning to Chiao Tai he continued: “Throw this warden in his own jail. I shall find out for myself what is wrong here!”

The warden started to protest but Chiao Tai boxed his ears and bound his hands behind his back. He turned the warden round, gave him a kick and barked:

“Lead us to your jail!”

In the left wing of the compound, behind the empty quarters of the guards, they found quite a capacious jail. Evidently the cells had not been used for a long time; but the doors looked solid enough and the windows had iron grates.

Chiao Tai pushed the warden into a small cell and locked the door.

Judge Dee said:

“Let us now have a look at the court hall and the chancery!”

Chiao Tai took up his paper lantern. They found the double gate of the court hall without difficulty. As Chiao Tai gave the door a push it swung open with a creaking of rusty hinges. He lifted his lantern.

They saw a large, empty hall. A thick layer of dust and dirt covered the stoneflags and cobwebs hung from the walls. Judge Dee walked up to the dais and looked at the faded and torn red cloth that covered the bench. A large rat scurried away.

The judge beckoned Chiao Tai. Then he stepped up onto the dais, walked round the bench and pulled aside the screen that covered the door opening leading to the magistrate’s private office, behind the court hall. A cloud of dust descended on the judge.

The office was empty but for a bare, ramshackle desk, an armchair with a broken back, and three wooden footstools.

Chiao Tai opened the door in the wall opposite. A dank smell assailed them. The walls were covered with shelves supporting rows of leather document boxes, green with mould.

Judge Dee shook his head.

“What fine archives!” he murmured.

He kicked open the door to the corridor and silently walked back to the main courtyard, Chiao Tai with his lantern leading the way.

Ma Joong and Tao Gan had locked their prisoners in the jail. The three dead robbers had been deposited in the quarters of the guards. Judge Dee’s servants were busy unloading the luggage under supervision of the house steward. The latter informed the judge that the magistrate’s living quarters in the back of the compound were in excellent condition. The departing magistrate had left everything there in good order; the rooms had been swept, the furniture was clean and in a good state of repair. Judge Dee’s cook was lighting the kitchen fire.

Judge Dee heaved a sigh of relief; at least his family had shelter.

He ordered Sergeant Hoong and Ma Joong to retire. They could spread their bed rolls in a side room of his own quarters. Then the judge beckoned Chiao Tai and Tao Gan to follow him, and went back to his deserted private office.

Tao Gan placed two lighted candles on the desk.

Judge Dee lowered himself gingerly into the rickety armchair. His two lieutenants blew the dust off the footstools and sat down.

The judge folded his arms on the desk. For a while no one spoke.

They presented a queer spectacle together. All three were still clad in their brown travelling robes, torn and muddy from the fight with the robbers. Their faces were drawn and haggard in the uncertain light of the candles.

Then the judge spoke:

“Well, my friends, the hour is late and we are tired and hungry. Yet I would like to have a consultation with you about this queer state of affairs we have found here.”

Tao Gan and Chiao. Tai nodded eagerly.

“This town,” Judge Dee continued, “baffles me completely. Although my predecessor was in residence here for three years and kept his living quarters in excellent condition, he apparently never used the court hall, and sent home the entire personnel of the tribunal. Although a courier must have duly informed him of my arrival scheduled for this afternoon, he went away without even leaving a message for me, entrusting the seals of office to that scoundrel of a warden. The other officials of the district administration simply ignored our arrival. How do you explain all this?”

“Could it be, Your Honour,” Chiao Tai asked, “that the people here are planning to rebel against the central government?”

Judge Dee shook his head.

“It is true,” he replied, “that the streets are deserted and the shops closed at an unusually early hour. But I did not notice any sign of unrest and there were no barricades or other military preparations. The attitude of the people in the street was not antagonistic, they were just indifferent.”

Tao Gan pensively pulled at the three long hairs that sprouted from a mole on his left cheek.

“For a moment,” he remarked, “I thought that maybe the pest or some other dangerous epidemic disease had ravaged this district. That, however, does not tally with
the fact that there were no signs of panic, and the people were partaking freely from the food of the street stalls.”

Judge Dee combed with his fingers some dry leaves from his long side whiskers. After a while he said:

“I would rather not ask that warden for elucidation. The fellow has all the marks of a consummate rascal!”

The steward entered followed by two of Judge Dee’s servants. One carried a platter with bowls of rice and soup and the other a large tea pot.

The judge ordered the steward to have bowls of rice brought to the jail for the prisoners.

They ate in silence.

When they had finished the scratch meal and drunk a cup of hot tea, Chiao Tai sat for a while in deep thought, twisting his small moustache. Then the spoke:

“I fully agree with Ma Joong, Your Honour, when out there in the mountains he said that the robbers who attacked us were no professional highwaymen. How about questioning our prisoners about what is going on here?”

“An excellent idea!” the judge exclaimed. “Find out who their leader is and bring him here!”

After a while Chiao Tai came back, leading by a chain none other than the robber who had tried to stab Judge Dee with his spear. The judge gave him a sharp look. He saw a strongly built man with a regular, open face; he seemed more like a small shopkeeper or a tradesman than a highway robber.

As he knelt in front of the desk Judge Dee ordered curtly:

“State your name and profession!”

“This person,” the man said respectfully,” is called Fang. Until recently I was a blacksmith in this city of Lan-fang, where my family has been living for several generations.”

“Why,” Judge Dee inquired, “did you, engaged in
an old and honourable trade, prefer the despicable life of a street robber?”

Fang lowered his head and said in a dull voice:

“I am guilty of assault with murderous intent. I fully realize that the death penalty awaits me. I confess my guilt which needs no further proof. Why should Your Honour bother to make further inquiries?”

Deep despair rang from his words. Judge Dee said quietly:

“I never sentence a criminal until I have heard his full story. Speak up and answer my question!”

“This person,” Fang began, “has been a blacksmith for over thirty years, having learned the trade from his father. I and my wife, one son and two daughters were strong and healthy, we had our daily bowl of rice, and now and then even a slice of pork. I considered myself a happy man.

“Then, one unfortunate day, Chien’s men saw that my son was a sturdy young fellow, and they pressed him into their service.”

“Who is this Chien?” the Judge interrupted him.

“What,” Fang replied bitterly, “is Chien not? Since more than eight years he has usurped all power in this district. He owns half the land and nearly one-fourth of the shops and houses in this town. He is magistrate, judge, and military commander, all in one. He regularly sends bribes to the officials of the prefecture, five days on horseback from here. He has convinced them that if it were not for him, the barbarian hordes from over the border would long have overrun this district.”

“Did my predecessors acquiesce in this irregular state of affairs?” Judge Dee inquired.

Fang shrugged his shoulders. He answered:

“The magistrates appointed here soon found out that it was easier and much safer to be satisfied with a shadow
existence, leaving all real power in the hands of Chien. As long as they acted as his puppets Chien gave them rich presents every month. They lived in peace and comfort while we of the people suffered.”

“Your story,” Judge Dee said coldly, “sounds absurd to me. Unfortunately it is true that occasionally a local tyrant usurps power in an outlying district. And sadder still, sometimes a weak magistrate will accept such an unlawful situation. But you cannot make me believe, my man, that for eight years every magistrate who was appointed here submitted to the man Chien.”

Fang said with a sneer:

“Then we of Lan-fang were just unlucky! There was but one magistrate who, four years ago, turned against Chien. After two weeks his body was found on the river bank, his throat cut from ear to ear.”

Judge Dee suddenly leaned forward. He asked:

“Was that magistrate’s name by any chance Pan?”

Fang nodded.

“Magistrate Pan,” Judge Dee continued, “was reported to the central authorities as having fallen in a skirmish with invading Uigur hordes. I was in the capital at that time. I remember that his body was forwarded there with military honours and that he was posthumously promoted to the rank of prefect.”

“That was how Chien covered up his murder,” Fang said indifferently. “I know the truth, I myself saw the body.”