The Chinese Nail Murders

Twelfth Chapter

As soon as the door had closed behind the coroner, Judge Dee threw the document down on his desk. Folding his arms he sat there, trying in vain to sort out the confused thoughts that were turning around in his mind.

At last he rose and changed into his hunting dress. A little exercise would perhaps help to clear his brain. He told the groom to bring his favorite horse, and rode out.

First he galloped a few times around the old drill ground. Then he entered the main street, and left the city by the North Gate. He made his horse step slowly through the snow to where the road went down the hill into the vast, white plain. He saw that the sky was leaden, it looked like another snowfall.

On the right two large stones marked the beginning of the narrow path that led up the crag known as Medicine Hill. The judge decided to climb up there, and go home after that exercise. He rode up the path to where it became a steep ascent, then dismounted. He patted his horse on its neck, and tied the reins to the stump of a tree.

About to begin the climb he suddenly halted. There were fresh marks of small feet in the snow. He debated with himself whether he should go on. Finally he shrugged his shoulders, and began the ascent.

The top of the crag was bare but for one tree, a winter plum. Its black branches were covered with small red buds. Near the wooden balustrade at the other end a woman clad in a gray fur coat was digging in the snow with a small trowel. As she heard the crunching of the snow under Judge Dee's heavy boots, she righted herself. She quickly put the trowel in the basket at her feet, and bowed deeply.

"I see," the judge said, "that you are gathering the Moon Herb."

Mrs. Kuo nodded. The fur hood set off her delicate face ad­mirably.

"I have not been very lucky, Your Honor," she said with a smile, "I have only gathered this much!" She pointed to the bundle of plants in the basket.

"I came up here for a little exercise," Judge Dee said. "I wanted to clear my thoughts, for the murder of Master Lan is weighing heavily on my mind."

Mrs. Kuo's face suddenly fell. Pulling her cloak close around her she murmured:

"It's incredible. He was so strong and healthy."

"Even the strongest man is defenseless against poison," the judge remarked dryly. "I have a definite clue to the person who committed that treacherous deed."

Mrs. Kuo's eyes grew wide.

"Who was that man, Your Honor?" she asked in a scarcely audible voice.

"I didn't say it was a man," Judge Dee said quickly.

She slowly shook her small head.

"It must have been," she said firmly. "I saw the master often because he was my husband's friend. He was always very kind and courteous, also to me, but one still felt that his attitude toward women was . . . different."

"How do you mean that?" the judge asked.

"Well," Mrs. Kuo answered slowly, "he seemed not to be . . . aware of them." A blush colored her cheeks, and she lowered her head.

The judge felt ill at ease. He walked over to the balustrade and looked down. He shrank back involuntarily. There was a sheer drop of more than fifty feet, and at the foot of the crag sharp stones were sticking up out of the snow.

Looking out over the plain below he was at a loss as to what to say next. To be aware of another person . . . this thought strangely disturbed him. He turned around and asked:

"Those cats I saw the other day in your house, are they your husband's interest or yours?"

"Of both of us, Your Honor," Mrs. Kuo replied quietly. "My husband can't bear to see animals suffer, he often brings home stray or sick cats. Then I look after them. By now we have seven of them, large and small."

Judge Dee nodded absent-mindedly. When his eye fell on the plum tree he remarked:

"That tree must be lovely when the blossoms are out."

"Yes," she said eagerly, "that may happen any day now. What poet said that again . . . something about one being able to hear the petals falling down in the snow . . . ?"

The judge knew the old poem but he said only:

"I remember some lines to that effect." Then he added curtly: "Well, Mrs. Kuo, I have to go back to the tribunal now."

She bowed deeply, and the judge began the descent.

While eating his simple noon meal Judge Dee thought over his conversation with the coroner. When the clerk came in with his tea, he told him to call the headman.

"Go to the cotton shop of Mrs. Loo, near the Temple of the City God," he ordered him, "and bring her here. I want to ask her a few questions."

When the headman had gone, the judge lingered long over his tea. He thought ruefully that it was probably very foolish to stir up that old affair of Loo Ming's death now that two murders were pending in the tribunal. But what the coroner had told him in­trigued him. And it distracted his mind from that other suspicion that was disturbing him so deeply.

He lay down on the couch for a nap. But sleep would not come. Tossing himself about restlessly he tried to remember the full text of the poem about the falling petals. Suddenly it came back to him. It had been written by a poet of about two centuries before, and bore the title "Winter Eve in the Seraglio." It ran:

The poem was not very well known, she probably had seen only the last two lines quoted somewhere. Or was she familiar with the entire poem, and had referred to it intentionally? With an angry frown the judge jumped up. He had always been inter­ested only in didactic poetry, love songs he considered a waste of time. Yet he found now a depth of feeling in this particular poem that he had never noticed before.

Annoyed with himself he went to the tea stove and wiped his face with a hot towel. Then he sat down at his desk and started to read the official correspondence that the senior scribe had brought in. When the headman came he found the judge absorbed in this work.

Seeing the headman's unhappy look, Judge Dee asked:

"What is wrong, headman?"

The headman nervously fingered his mustache.

"To tell Your Honor the truth," he replied, "Mrs. Loo refused to come with me."

"What is that?" the judge asked, astonished. "Who does the woman think she is?"

"She said," the headman went on ruefully, "that since I had no warrant, she refused to come." As the judge was about to make an angry remark, he hastily continued: "She reviled me and made so much noise that a crowd gathered around us. She shouted there were still laws in the Empire, and that the tribunal had no right to summon a decent woman without a proper reason. I tried to drag her along, but she fought back and the crowd took her side. So I thought I had better come back here to ask Your Honor's instructions."

"If she wants a warrant, she'll get one!" Judge Dee said angrily. He took up his writing brush and quickly filled in an official form. He gave it to the headman, saying: "Go there with four constables and bring the woman here!"

The headman quickly took his leave.

Judge Dee started pacing the floor. What a harridan that Mrs. Loo was! He reflected that he really had been lucky with his own wives. His First Lady was a very cultured woman, the eldest daughter of his father's best friend. The fond understanding be­tween them had always been a great comfort to him in times of stress, and their two sons were a constant source of joy. His second wife was not so well educated, but she was good-looking, had sound common sense and directed his large household most effi­ciently. The daughter she had given him had the same steady character. His third wife he had taken when he was serving in Peng-lai, his first post. After some fearful experience her family had abandoned her, and the judge had taken her into his house as chambermaid of his First Lady. The latter had grown very fond of her, and soon insisted that the judge take her as a wife. At first the judge had objected, he thought it would be taking ad­vantage of her gratitude. But when she had intimated that she was really fond of him, he had given in, and never regretted it. She was a handsome, lively young woman, and it was nice that now there were always four to play dominoes, which was his favorite game.

It suddenly occurred to him that life in Pei-chow must be rather dull for his ladies. He decided that now New Year was approach­ing, he would try to select some nice presents for them.

He went to the door and called the clerk.

"Is none of my lieutenants back yet?" he asked.

"No, Your Honor," the clerk replied. "First they had a long consultation in the chancery with the Honorable Chu Ta-yuan, then they left all together."

"Tell the groom to bring my horse!" Judge Dee ordered. He reflected that while his lieutenants were gathering material on the Lan murder, he had better go and see Pan Feng. On the way out there he would pass by Yeh Pin's paper shop, and inquire whether Yeh Tai had made his appearance yet. He could not get rid of the uneasy feeling that Yeh Tai's prolonged absence meant that new trouble was brewing.