Poets and Murder

IX

The judge pulled his robe closer, for in the open litter he felt the nip in the evening air. He was in high spirits, for the 'Fox Lay' might well prove to be the first real clue to the student's murder. The market was crowded with people and the stalls did a thriving business. But after they had turned into a broad, dark street, there were few people about. On either side rose high stone arches, alternating with long stretches of weatherbeaten brick walls. The judge learned from the inscrip­tions on the huge lanterns hanging from each gate that the main sects of the Buddhist creed were represented on Temple Street. The bearers lowered the litter in front of a two-storeyed gatehouse. The lantern suspended over the black-lacquered, double-door was inscribed with three large characters: 'Temple of Subtle Insight'.

Judge Dee stepped out. The two bearers began at once to rub their wet torsos dry. He told the elder one:

'You may take a rest here. I won't be longer than half an hour or so.' Handing him a tip, he asked, 'How long does it take to go from here to the east city gate?'

'If you go by litter, sir, it'll take you about half an hour. But if you know the short cuts by the crooked alleys, you'll get there much quicker on foot.'

The judge nodded. This meant that the murdered student could easily have visited the fox shrine near the South Gate. Entering the compound by the narrow door beside the main gate, he found the paved temple yard deserted. But there was light behind the window panes of the solid, two-storeyed main hall in the rear. To the right of the hall an open corridor ran along the outer wall of the compound. He walked along that corridor, for he planned to leave the temple by the back door and from there make his way to the south city gate. Thus the litter bearers would not know his real destination.

The corridor led to a narrow passage behind the main hall, between two dark, single-storey buildings which he took to be the quarters of the monks. The passage was dimly lit by a few small lanterns suspended from the eaves. He quickly walked on to the back gate at the end. While passing the window on the far corner of the building on his right he cast a casual look into the dark interior. Suddenly he stood stock still. He thought he had seen the sexton, sitting huddled up on the bench in the back of the bare room, and fixing him with his toad-like stare. The judge put his hands on the win­dow sill and peered inside. He had been mistaken. In the faint light supplied by the lantern of the building opposite, he saw only a pile of monk's habits on the bench, with a skull-shaped wooden prayer-drum on top. He went on, angry with himself. Evidently he had been unable to rid himself of the disturbing image of the weird sexton.

He crossed the sparse pine forest behind the temple, keep­ing to the right. Soon he came out on a broad, well-paved highway. In the far distance the towering shape of the South Gate was outlined against the starry sky.

Glad that his manoeuvre had been successfully executed, he walked quickly down the street, lit here and there by the flickering oil-lamp on a pedlar's stall. On the left side were a few dark, abandoned houses, opposite him a mass of trees, growing from thick brushwood. There was a dilapidated stone gate. Just as he was about to cross, a long line of people came down the street. Their backs were bent under heavy packs and bags, but they were chattering merrily amongst themselves. Evidently they were leaving the city to spend the Mid-autumn Festival with their relatives up-country. Waiting to let the holiday-makers pass, the judge wondered where the Emerald Cliff would be, chosen by Magistrate Lo for the banquet the following night. Probably somewhere in the mountains to the west of the city. Studying the sky, he didn't see any drifting clouds near the bright autumn moon. How­ever, the wood over on the opposite side of the road looked dark and forbidding. He went to the street-stall on his left and purchased a small storm lantern. Thus equipped he crossed the road.

Of the old gate only the two posts were left. Letting the light of his lantern shine into the greystone trough at the base of the left post, he saw there a pile of fresh fruit, and a rough earthenware bowl of cooked rice, half-covered with green leaves. These offerings proved that this was indeed the gate to the wasteland.

Judge Dee quickly parted the branches of the tangled under­growth that barred the narrow pathway. After the first bend, he tucked the slips of his gown under the sash round his waist, and rolled up his long sleeves. Poking about in the brushwood he found a strong stick for pushing thorny branches out of the way, and continued along the winding path.

It was curiously still in this wilderness; he didn't even hear the cries of nightbirds. The only sound was the persistent drone of cicadas, and now and then a faint rustling in the thick undergrowth. 'The dancer is a plucky girl,' he muttered. 'Even in broad daylight this must be a dismal place!’

Suddenly he halted and tightened his grip on the stick. From the dark brush just ahead came a spitting sound. Two greenish eyes were glaring at him, about two feet above the ground. He quickly picked up a stone and threw it. The eyes disappeared. There was a commotion among the leaves, then everything was quiet again. So there were indeed foxes about. But they would never attack a man. Then, however, he was struck by a disturbing thought. He remembered having heard that rabies is of frequent occurrence among wild foxes and stray dogs. And a mad fox would attack anything in sight. Pushing his skull-cap back, he reflected ruefully that he had perhaps acted a bit rashly by setting out on this trip un­armed. A sword or better still a short pike might have proved useful. But his leggings were thick, and the stick felt very serviceable, so he decided to go on anyway.

Soon the path broadened. Through the sparse trees he saw an extensive stretch of wasteland, bleak in the moonlight. A gentle slope, covered with tall grass and strewn with boulders overgrown with weeds, led up to the black bulk of a ruined temple. The outer wall had crumbled in several places, and the top-heavy curved roof of the single building inside was sagging badly. About half-way up the slope a dark shape jumped lithely on to a boulder, and sat down on its haunches. The judge saw clearly its pointed ears and long, plumed tail. The beast seemed unusually tall.

He peered for a while at the dark ruin, but could see no light or any other sign of life. With a sigh he went up the winding path marked by irregularly shaped stones. When he came near the fox, he raised his stick. The animal jumped down gracefully and streaked off into the darkness. The waving of the grass indicated that there were more foxes about there.

At the gate the judge halted to study the small front-yard, littered with rubbish. Mouldering beams were lying at the foot of the wall, and a faint stench of decay hung in the air. In the corner stood a life-size stone statue of a fox, sitting on its haunches on a high granite pedestal. The red rag draped round its neck was the only sign of human presence. The temple itself was a one-storey, square building of large bricks, blackened by age and overgrown with ivy. The right corner was crumbling away; it was there that the heavy roof was sagging dangerously. Here and there the tiles had dropped down, revealing the thick black roof beams. The judge went up the three granite steps and knocked with his stick on the lattice door. A section of the rotting woodwork fell down with a crash that sounded very loud in the still evening air. He waited, but no answer came from inside.

The judge pushed the lattice door open and stepped inside. A faint light came from the small side-hall on his left. He stepped round the corner, then stopped abruptly. Under a candle in a niche up in the wall, stood a tall, thin shape swathed in a soiled shroud. The head was a skull which stared at the judge with gaping, empty eyesockets.

'Let's save the mummery!’ he said coldly.

'You ought to have screamed and run outside.' A soft voice spoke up directly behind him. 'Then you would have broken your legs.'

Slowly turning round, he found himself face to face with a young girl, very slim in a loose jacket of some rough, brown material, and long, torn trousers. She had a handsome but vacuous face with large, frightened eyes. But the point of a long knife was pressed against Judge Dee's flank, and her hand was quite steady.

'Now I have to kill you here,' she said in the same, soft voice.

'What a beautiful knife you have!’ he said slowly. 'Look at that lovely blue sheen!’

As she lowered her eyes, he let his stick drop and quickly gripped her wrist. 'Don't be a fool, Saffron!' he snapped. 'Small Phoenix sent me. And I've seen Mr Soong.'

She nodded, biting her full lower lip. 'When my foxes got restless, I thought it was Soong,' she said, looking past him at the dummy. 'When I saw you coming up the path, I lit the light above my lover.'

The judge let go of her wrist. 'Can't we sit down some­where, Saffron? I wanted to talk with you.'

'Only talk, not play,' she said earnestly. 'My lover is very jealous.' She slipped the knife into her sleeve and went up to the dummy. Straightening the patched shroud, she whispered, 'I won't let him play with me, dear! I promise!’ She lightly tapped the side of the skull, then took the candle from the niche and passed through an arched door-opening in the wall opposite.

JUDGE DEE IN THE SHRINE OF THE BLACK FOX

Judge Dee followed her into the small, musty-smelling room. She put the candle on the primitive table, made of rough boards, and sat down on a low bamboo seat. Except for a rattan stool there was no furniture, but in the corner lay a heap of rags which apparently served as her bed. The upper half of the back wall had crumbled away and the roof caved in so that part of the sky was visible. Thick clusters of ivy had crept through the gap and were hanging down along the rough bricks. Dry leaves came rustling down on to the dust-covered floor.

'It's very hot in here,' she muttered. She took off her jacket and threw it on the pile of rags in the corner. Her round shoulders and full breasts were smeared with dust. The judge tested the rickety rattan stool, then sat down. She looked past him with her vacant eyes, rubbing her bare breasts. Although he found the room quite chilly, he noticed that a thin rivulet of sweat came down in the hollow of her bosom, leaving a black streak across her flat belly. The mass of her tangled, untidy hair was bound up with a red rag.

'My lover looks very terrible, doesn't he?' she asked sud­denly. 'But he has a good heart, never leaves me and always listens to me so patiently. The poor man had no head, so I chose the largest skull I could find. And every week I give him a new dress. I dig them up in the back-yard here, you know. There are many skulls and bones there, and nice pieces of cloth. Why didn't Soong come tonight?'

'He's very busy. He asked me to tell you that.'

She nodded slowly.

'I know. He's kept very busy sorting out all kinds of things. It happened so long ago — eighteen years, he says. But the man who killed his father is still here. When he has found him, he'll have his head chopped off. On the scaffold.'

'I am trying to find that man too, Saffron. What's his name again?'

'His name? Soong doesn't know. But he'll find him. If someone killed my father, I would also ...'

'I thought you were a foundling?'

'I am not! My father comes to see me, sometimes. He's a nice man.' Suddenly she asked plaintively, 'Why then did he lie to me?'

Seeing the feverish gleam that had come into her eyes, the judge said soothingly:

'You must be mistaken. I am sure your father would never lie to you.'

'He did! He says he always keeps that scarf round his head because he is so ugly. But Small Phoenix met him after he left here the other night, and she says he isn't ugly at all. Why then doesn't he want me to see his face?'

'Where's your mother, Saffron?'

'She's dead.'

'I see. Who brought you up, then? Your father?'

'No, my old aunt. She was not nice, for she gave me to bad people. I fled, but they came after me here. First two of them, by day. I had gone up on the roof, carrying an armful of skulls and bones. When I dropped those on their heads, they ran away. Three of them came back, at night. But then my lover was there, and they screamed and rushed outside. One stumbled over a boulder, and broke his leg! You should've seen how the others dragged him off!’

She burst out laughing, a shrill sound that echoed in the bare room. Something rustled in the ivy. Judge Dee looked round. Four or five foxes had jumped from outside on to the top of the crumbling wall. They were fixing him with their strange, greenish eyes.

When he looked at the girl again, she had covered her face with her hands. A long shiver shook her thin body, but her shoulders were covered with sweat. The judge said quickly:

'Soong told me he often came here together with Mr Meng, the tea-merchant.'

She let her hands drop.

'A tea-merchant?' she asked. 'I never drink tea. Only the water from the well. And now I don't like that any more.... Oh yes, Soong told me he was living in the house of a tea-merchant.' She thought for a moment, then resumed with a slow smile, 'Soong comes every other night, bringing his flute along. My foxes like his music, and he likes me very much, said he would take me away to a nice place, where we could hear music every day. But he said I must tell no one, for he could never marry me. I told him I could never leave here and never marry anybody. For I have my lover, and I shall never part with him. Never!’

'Soong didn't tell me about your father.'

'Of course not! Father said I should never tell anybody about him. And now I've told you!’ She shot him a frightened glance, then clasped her hand to her throat. 'I can hardly swallow ... and I have such a terrible pain in my head, and in my neck. It becomes worse and worse... .' Her teeth began to chatter.

Judge Dee got up. The girl must be taken away from here the very next day. She was dangerously ill.

'I'll tell Small Phoenix that you aren't feeling well and we'll come to see you together, tomorrow. Has your father never asked you to come to stay with him?'

'Why should he? He said I couldn't be better off anywhere, looking after my lover and my foxes.'

'Better be careful with those foxes. When they bite you ...'

'How dare you say that?' she interrupted angrily. 'My foxes never bite me! Some of them always sleep with me in the corner there, and lick my face. Go away, I don't like you any more!'

'I am very fond of animals, Saffron. But animals fall ill sometimes, just like us. And when they bite you, then you get sick too. I am coming back tomorrow. Good-bye.'

She followed him into the front-yard. Pointing at the statue of the fox, she asked timidly:

'I'd like to give that beautiful red scarf to my lover. Do you think the stone fox would be angry?'

The judge considered the problem. Deciding that for her safety the dummy had better stay as frightening as it was, he replied:

'I think the stone fox might get nasty about it. Better not take the scarf away from him.'

'Thank you. I'll make a mantle clasp for my lover, out of the silver hair-needles Soong promised me. Ask him to bring them tomorrow, will you?'

Judge Dee nodded and went through the old gate. Survey­ing the moonlit stretch of wasteland, he could not see a single fox.