Judge Dee at Work

THE WRONG SWORD

This case also occurred in Poo-yang. As readers of The Chinese Bell Murders will remember, Poo-yang was bordered on one side by the Chin-hwa district, where Magistrate Lo held sway, and on the other by the district of Woo-yee, adminis­tered by the austere Magistrate Pan. The murder described in the present story happened in Judge Dee's absence; he had gone to Woo-yee to discuss with his colleague Pan a case involving both districts. The judge had set out from Poo-yang three days previously, taking with him Sergeant Hoong and Tao Gan, and leaving Ma Joong and Chiao Tai in charge of the tribunal. The three days had passed uneventfully for his two lieutenants; it was only on the last day, on the very evening that Judge Dee was expected back, that things sud­denly began to happen.

'You pay for the fourth dozen stuffed crabs!' Ma Joong told Chiao Tai with satisfaction as he put the dice back into the box.

'They were worth it,' said Chiao Tai, smacking his lips. He took his wine beaker and emptied it in one draught.

Judge Dee's two burly lieutenants were sitting at a small table near the window, on the second floor of the Kingfisher Res­taurant, one of their favourite haunts. Situated on the water-way that crosses the city of Poo-yang from north to south, its second-floor window offered a splendid view of the evening sun, setting beyond the western city wall.

The sounds of boisterous applause came up from the street be­low. Ma Joong poked his head out of the window and looked down at the crowd that had assembled on the river bank.

'It's that troupe of travelling actors which came here four days ago,' he remarked. 'In the afternoon they perform acrobatics in the street, at night they stage historical plays.'

'I know,' Chiao Tai said. 'The rice-dealer Lau helped them rent the yard of the old Taoist temple for setting up their stage. Lau came to the tribunal the other day for the permit. The leader of the troupe was with him — decent-looking fellow, Bao his name is. The troupe consists of his wife, his daughter and his son.' He refilled his beaker and added: 'I had thought of strolling over to the temple; I like a good play with lots of sword-fencing. But since our judge is away and we're responsible for everything, I don't like to leave the tribunal for long.'

'Well, here we have a grandstand seat for their acrobatic turns at least,' Ma Joong said contentedly. He turned his chair round to the window and put his folded arms on the sill. Chiao Tai fol­lowed his example.

In the street below a square reed mat had been spread out, surrounded by a dense crowd of spectators. A small boy of about eight was turning somersaults there with surprising agility. Two other actors, a tall lean man and a sturdy woman stood on the left and right of the mat with folded arms, and a young girl was squatting by the side of a bamboo box, evidently containing their paraphernalia. On top of the box was a low wooden rack; two long, shining swords were laid across it, one above the other. All four actors wore black jackets and wide trousers; red sashes were wound tightly round their waists, and red scarves round their heads. An old man dressed in a shabby blue gown was sit­ting on a tabouret close by, lustily beating the drum he held between his bony knees.

'Wish I could see that girl's face,' Ma Joong said wistfully. 'Look, Lau is there too; he seems to be in trouble!'

He pointed down at a neatly dressed, middle-aged man wearing a black gauze cap, who was standing behind the bamboo box. He was quarrelling with a huge ruffian whose unruly hair was bound up with a blue rag. He grabbed Lau's sleeve but Lau pushed him away. The two men paid no attention to the boy who was now walking around the reed mat on his hands, balancing a wine jar on the soles of his feet.

'I have never seen that tall rogue before,' Chiao Tai remarked. 'Must be from outside the city.'

'Now we'll get a good view of the wenches!' Ma Joong said with a grin.

The boy had finished. The leader of the troupe stood in the centre of the mat, legs apart and knees slightly bent. The sturdy woman placed her right foot on his knee, then with one lithe movement climbed up onto his shoulders. At a shout from the man, the girl climbed up too, put one foot on the man's left shoulder, grabbed the woman's arm with one hand, and stretched out her other arm and leg. At almost the same time the boy fol­lowed her example and balanced himself on the man's right shoulder. As the human pyramid stood there precariously, the greybeard in the faded gown beat a frantic roll on his drum. The crowd burst out in loud shouts of approval.

The faces of the boy, the woman and the girl were only ten feet or so from Ma Joong and Chiao Tai. The latter whispered with enthusiasm: 'Look at the woman's splendid figure! Nice friendly face too!'

'I prefer the girl!' Ma Joong said eagerly.

'Much too young! The woman is about thirty, just right. Knows what's what!’

The drummer stopped; the woman and her two children jumped down from Bao's shoulders. All four actors made a graceful bow, then the girl went round among the spectators collecting coppers in a wooden bowl. Ma Joong pulled a string of cash from his sleeve and threw it down at her. She caught it expertly and re­warded him with a smile.

'That's literally throwing money away!' Chiao Tai remarked dryly.

'Call it an investment in a promising project!' Ma Joong coun­tered with a smug grin. 'What's next?'

The boy was standing in the centre of the reed mat. He put his hands behind his back and lifted his chin. As the greybeard started to beat his drum, Bao bared his right arm, grabbed the sword lying on top of the rack, and with a movement quick as lightning plunged it deep into the boy's breast. Blood spurted out; the boy staggered backwards as his father pulled the sword out again. There were horrified cries from the crowd.

'I have seen that trick before,' Ma Joong said. 'Heaven knows how they do it! The sword looks genuine enough.' He turned away from the window and took his wine beaker.

The agonized cry of a woman rose above the confused murmur of voices. Chiao Tai, who had been looking down intently, suddenly jumped up. He snapped: 'That was no trick, brother! It was plain murder! Come along!'

The two men rushed down the stairs and ran outside. They elbowed their way through the excited crowd to the edge of the reed mat. The boy was lying on his back, his breast a mass of blood. His mother was kneeling by his side, sobbing convulsively as she stroked the small, still face. Bao and his daughter were standing there stock still, staring down with pale faces at the pitiful dead body. Bao still held the bloodstained sword.

Ma Joong wrenched it from his hand and asked angrily: 'Why did you do that?'

The actor woke from his stupor. Giving Ma Joong a dazed look, he stammered: 'It was the wrong sword!'

'I can explain, Mr Ma!' the rice-dealer Lau spoke up. 'It was an accident!'

A squat man came forward; it was the warden of the west quarter. Chiao Tai ordered him to roll the dead body in the reed mat and have it brought to the tribunal for examination by the coroner. As the warden gently made the mother rise, Chiao Tai said to Ma Joong, 'Let's take these people up to the dining-room, and try to get this straight!’

Ma Joong nodded. Taking the sword under his arm, he said to the rice-dealer, 'You come too, Mr Lau. And let the greybeard bring the box and that other sword along.'

He looked for the tall ruffian who had accosted Lau, but the fellow was nowhere to be seen.

Up on the second floor of the Kingfisher Restaurant Ma Joong told Bao, the two crying women and the old drummer to sit down at a corner table. He poured them wine from the jar he and Chiao Tai had been drinking from. He hoped that the strong liquor would help them get over the shock. Then he turned to the rice-dealer and ordered him to explain. He knew that the theatre was Lau's hobby, that he attended all shows given by travelling actors. His regular face with the short black moustache and goatee was pale and drawn. He adjusted his black gauze cap, then began diffidently:

'As you may know, Mr Ma, this man Bao is the leader of the troupe, a fine actor and acrobat.' He paused, passed his hand over his face, then took the second sword which the old drummer had laid on the table. 'You may have seen these trick-swords,' he con­tinued. 'The blade is hollow, and filled with pig's blood. It has a false point a couple of inches long, which slides back into the blade if the sword is pushed against something. Thus it appears as if the point penetrates deeply, the illusion being completed by the pig's blood spurting out. When the sword is pulled out, the point resumes its original position, being pushed out again by a rattan spiral hidden inside. You can see it for yourself!’

Ma Joong took the sword from him. He noticed a thin groove round it, a few inches below the blunt point. He turned round and pressed it against the wooden floor. The point slid into the blade, red blood spurted out. Mrs Bao started to scream. Her hus­band quickly put his arm round her shoulders. The girl remained sitting, still as a stone figure. The greybeard muttered angrily, pulling at his ragged beard.

'That wasn't too clever, brother!’ Chiao Tai snapped.

'Had to verify it, didn't I?' Ma Joong said contritely. He took the real sword in his other hand, and balanced the two weapons carefully. 'These two swords are about the same weight,' he mut­tered. 'And they look exactly alike. Dangerous!'

'The trick-sword ought to have been lying on top of the rack,' Lau said, 'and the real sword below it. After the stabbing trick the boy would get up, and his father would perform a dance with the real sword.'

Bao had risen. Stepping up to Ma Joong, he asked hoarsely: 'Who exchanged the swords?' As Ma Joong only pursed his lips, Bao grabbed his shoulder and shouted: 'Who did it, I ask you?'

Ma Joong gently loosened his grip and made him sit down again. 'That's what we are going to find out,' he said. 'Are you quite sure that you put the trick-sword on top?'

'Of course! Haven't we been through that routine a hundred, a thousand times?'

Ma Joong shouted downstairs for more wine. He motioned Chiao Tai and Lau to follow him to the table in front of the win­dow. When they had sat down he whispered to Lau, 'My mate and I were looking out from this window here. We saw you and a tall ruffian standing close by the bamboo box and the sword rack. Who else was standing near you two?'

'I really couldn't say,' Lau replied with a frown. 'When the boy was doing his somersaults that tall rogue, who had been standing by my side for some time, suddenly asked me for money. When I refused he began to threaten me. I told him to make him­self scarce. Then ... it happened.'

'Who is he?' Chiao Tai asked.

'Never saw him before. Perhaps Bao knows.'

Chiao Tai got up and asked the actors. Bao, his wife and his daughter all shook their heads, but the old drummer said in a wheezing voice, 'I know him all right, sir! He came to our show in the temple yard every night, paid one copper only! He is a vagabond; his name is Hoo Ta-ma.'

'Did you see anyone else come near the sword rack?' Chiao Tai asked.

'How could I, seeing I had to keep my eyes on the performance all the time?' the greybeard replied indignantly. 'I only noticed Mr Lau and Hoo Ta-ma, because I happen to know both of them. But there were lots of others, all packed close. How could I see what was going on there?'

'I suppose you couldn't,' Chiao Tai said resignedly. 'And we couldn't have arrested the whole crowd.' Turning to Bao again, he asked: 'Did you notice anyone you know standing close to the mat?'

'I don't know anyone here,' Bao replied in a toneless voice. 'We have been to Woo-yee and Chin-hwa, but this is our first visit to this city. I only know Mr Lau. He introduced himself to me when I was surveying the temple yard for the setting up of our stage, and he kindly offered his help.'

Chiao Tai nodded. He liked Bao's open, intelligent face. He turned back to the others and said to Lau, 'You'd better take the actors back to their quarters, Mr Lau. Tell them that the magis­trate is expected back here later tonight, and he'll investigate this foul murder at once. Tomorrow they'll have to attend the session of the tribunal, for the formalities. Then the boy's body will be handed back to them for burial.'

'Can I come too, Mr Chiao? Bao is a nice fellow; I'd like to do all I can to help him in this awful predicament.'

'You'll have to be there anyway!’ Ma Joong said dryly. 'You are an important witness.'

He and Chiao Tai rose and said a few comforting words to the stricken family. When Lau had taken them and the greybeard downstairs, the two friends sat down again at the window table. Silently they emptied their wine beakers. While Ma Joong was refilling them he said, 'Well, I hope that's everything. Tonight we'll put it all before the judge. It'll be a hard nut to crack, I'd say. Even for him!'

He gave his friend a thoughtful look, but Chiao Tai made no comment. He idly watched the waiter who had come upstairs with a large oil lamp. When the waiter had gone, Chiao Tai banged his beaker down and said bitterly, 'What a dirty murder! Tricking a father into killing his own son, and before his mother's eyes! You know what? We've got to get the mean bastard who did it! Here and now!’

'I agree,' Ma Joong said slowly, 'but a murder is no small mat­ter. I am not so sure that our judge would like us meddling in the investigation. One wrong move might spoil everything, you know!’

'If we do only what the judge would have ordered anyway, I don't see that we can do much harm.'

Ma Joong nodded. Then he said briskly: 'All right, I am with you! Here's luck!’ Having emptied his cup, he added with a wry smile, 'This is a chance to prove our mettle! When those worthy citizens talk to us here, butter wouldn't melt in their mouths. But behind our backs they say we are just a couple of vulgar bullies, all brawn and no brain!'

'Up to a point,' Chiao Tai said judiciously, 'they are right. We are not men of letters, after all. That's why I wouldn't dream of tackling a case involving the gentry, for instance. But this murder is just the thing for us, for all concerned are the kind of people we are familiar with.'

'Let's plan out the investigation, then!' Ma Joong growled. He refilled their beakers.

'Our judge always starts by talking about motive and opportunity,' Chiao Tai began. 'In this case, the motive is as plain as a pikestaff. Since nobody could have had anything against that poor boy, the murderer must have hated Bao. Like poison.'

'Right. And since Bao is here in Poo-yang for the first time, our suspects are narrowed down to the people who have been in close contact with him and his troupe these last few days.'

'There still is the possibility that Bao met an old enemy here,' Chiao Tai objected.

'In that case Bao would have told us about him at once,' Ma Joong said. He thought hard for a while. 'I am not too sure that nobody could have had anything against the boy, you know. Youngsters like that have a knack of turning up in the most un­expected places; he could have seen or heard something he shouldn't have. Someone wanted to close the boy's mouth, and the sword-trick was a godsend.'

'Yes,' Chiao Tai admitted. 'Heavens, there are too many possi­bilities!' He sipped his wine, then frowned and put his beaker down. 'This stuff tastes funny!' he remarked astonished.

'It's the same we had before, but it doesn't taste right to me either! Tell you what, brother! Wine is only good when you are happy and carefree! You can't do real drinking with problems weighing on your mind!'

'That's why our judge is always sipping tea then, the poor sap!’ Chiao Tai scowled at the wine jar, then grabbed it and put it down on the floor, under the table. Folding his muscular arms in his sleeves, he resumed: 'As to opportunity, both Lau and Hoo were standing close to the rack, so either of them could have exchanged the swords. What about their motives?'

Ma Joong rubbed his chin. After a while he answered, 'As regards Hoo, I can think of only one. Or two, rather. Meaning Mrs Bao and her daughter. Heavens, I wouldn't mind having a go at those wenches myself! Think of the acrobatic tricks they can do! Suppose Hoo wanted either of them or both, and Bao said hands-off, and Hoo took this badly?'

'Possible. If Hoo is a degenerate, mean type of scoundrel, he might take revenge on Bao in a dirty way like this. But what about Lau?'

'Out of the question! Lau is the old-fashioned, prim type. If he engaged in extramural amorous games, he'd sneak off to some discreet brothel. He wouldn't dare start something with an actress.'

'I agree that Hoo is our best chance,' Chiao Tai said. 'I'll go along now and have a talk with him. Then I'll look up Lau too, just for the sake of completeness, so to speak. You had better go to the temple, brother, and get to know more about the general background. Our judge will want to know everything about the Bao family, I expect.'

'All right, I'll pump the two women; that's the smoothest approach, I'd say!' He got up briskly.

'Maybe not as smooth as you think,' Chiao Tai said dryly as he rose also. 'Those two women are acrobats, remember! They know how to use their hands if you annoy them! Well, we'll meet later, in the tribunal.'

Chiao Tai went straight to the small winehouse in the east city where Sheng Pa, the head of the Beggars' Guild, had his head­quarters.

The only occupant of the dingy taproom was a man of colossal proportions reclining in an armchair, snoring loudly. His mast­like arms were folded over his large bare belly, which protruded from under his worn-out black jacket.

Chiao Tai shook him roughly. The man woke up with a start. Giving Chiao Tai a baleful look, he said crossly, 'You would give a peaceful old man a fright! But sit down, anyway. Let me profit by your conversation.'

'I am in a hurry. You know a rogue called Hoo Ta-ma?'

Sheng Pa slowly shook his large head. 'No,' he said ponderously, 'I don't know him.'

Chiao Tai caught the crafty look that flashed through the other's eyes. He said impatiently, 'You may not have met him, but you must know about him, you fat crook! He's been seen in the yard of the old Taoist temple.'

'Don't call me names!' Sheng Pa said with a pained look. Then he added wistfully, 'Ah, that temple yard! My old headquarters! Those were the days, brother! Gay and carefree! Look at me now, master of the guild, burdened with administrative duties! I ...'

'The only burden you carry is your belly,' Chiao Tai inter­rupted. 'Speak up! Where do I find Hoo?'

'Well,' Sheng Pa replied resignedly, 'if you must push matters to extremes ... I have heard it said that a man who calls him­self by that name can usually be found in a wine stall below the east city wall — the fifth one north from the East Gate, as a matter of fact. It's only hearsay, mind you, I ...'

'Thank you kindly!' Chiao Tai rushed out.

In the street he stuffed his cap into his sleeve, and rumpled his hair. A brief walk brought him to a shed of old boards put up against the base of the city wall. He surveyed the dark, deserted neighbourhood, then pulled aside the door curtain and stepped inside.

The shed was dimly lit by a smoking oil lamp, and was filled with a nauseating stench of rancid oil and cheap liquor. An old man with bleary eyes was serving wine dregs behind a rickety bamboo counter. Three men in tattered gowns were standing about in front of it, Hoo Ta-ma's tall frame towering above the others.

Chiao Tai stood himself next to Hoo. The men eyed him in­differently; evidently they didn't know him for an officer of the tribunal. He ordered a drink. After he had taken a sip from the cracked rice-bowl that served as a wine cup, he spat on the floor and growled at Hoo: 'Filthy stuff! It's bad when you are down to your last coppers!'

A wry smile lit up Hoo's broad, sun-tanned face. Chiao Tai thought he looked like a rough-and-ready rascal, but not entirely unprepossessing. He resumed, 'You wouldn't know a job with something in it, would you?'

'No, I don't. Besides, I am the last man to ask, brother! I am having a spell of dirty luck, these days. Week ago I was supposed to pinch two cartloads of rice on the road, in Woo-yee. Easy job, only had to knock out the two carters. Affair had been nicely planned — on a lonely stretch, in the forest. My bad luck spoiled it.'

'You are getting too old, maybe!' Chiao Tai sneered.

'Shut up and listen! Just as I knock the first carter down, a small brat comes running round the corner. He looks me up and down and asks, silly-like: "What are you doing that for?" I hear noises, and jump into the undergrowth. From my hideout I see a tilt cart with travelling actors come round the corner. The second carter tells them the sad story, adding that I took to my heels. They move on together, rice-carts and all!’

'Bad luck!’ Chiao Tai agreed. 'And you may be in for more of it too. Yesterday I saw a troupe performing in the street here, there was a boy doing somersaults. If that's the same brat, you'd better be careful. He might spot you.'

'Spotted me already! Caught me in the act again! With his sister, this second time! Can you imagine worse luck? But the brat had bad luck too. He's dead!’

Chiao Tai tightened his belt. This was a simple case, after all. He said affably, 'You certainly have bad luck, Hoo! I am an officer of the tribunal, and you are coming along with me!’

Hoo cursed obscenely, then barked at the two others, 'You heard him, the dirty running-dog of the tribunal! Let's beat the thief-catcher to pulp!’

The two vagabonds slowly shook their heads. The elder said, 'You don't belong here, brother. Settle your accounts yourself!'

'Rot in hell!’ And to Chiao Tai: 'Come outside, I'll get you or you'll get me!’

A beggar who was loitering in the dark alley scurried away when he saw the two men come out and take up boxers' stances.

Hoo started with a quick blow at Chiao Tai's jaw, but he parried it expertly and followed up with an elbow thrust in Hoo's face. The other ducked and grabbed Chiao Tai's waist with his long, muscular arms. Chiao Tai realized that in a body-to-body fight Hoo was no mean opponent; he was of the same height, but much heavier, and he tried to throw Chiao Tai by utilizing this advantage. Soon both men were panting heavily. But Chiao Tai knew more about technique, and he succeeded in slipping out of the other's bear-like hug. He stepped back, then placed an accur­ate blow in Hoo's face that closed his left eye. Hoo shook his head, then came again for him, growling angrily.

Chiao Tai was on his guard for foul tricks, but apparently Hoo didn't go in for them. He made a feint, then gave Chiao Tai a blow in his midriff that would have floored him if he hadn't ducked and caught it on his breastbone. Chiao Tai feigned to be winded and staggered back. Hoo aimed a straight blow at his jaw to finish him off. Chiao Tai caught Hoo's fist in both hands, ducked under his arm and threw him over his back. There was a snapping sound as the rogue's shoulder dislocated and he crashed to the ground, hitting his head on a stone with a sickening thud. He lay quite still.

Chiao Tai went into the shed again and told the greybeard to give him a rope, then to run out and call the warden and his men.

Chiao Tai tied Hoo's legs securely together. Then he squatted down and waited for the warden. Hoo was carried to the tribunal on an improvised stretcher. Chiao Tai ordered the jail keeper to put Hoo in a cell, call the coroner and have him revive the un­conscious man, then set his shoulder.

These things having been attended to, Chiao Tai walked over, to the chancery deep in thought. There was one point that was worrying him. Perhaps the case was not so simple after all.

In the meantime Ma Joong had walked from the Kingfisher Restaurant back to the tribunal, where he had taken a bath. When he had put on a nice clean robe he strolled to the Taoist temple.

A mixed crowd was standing about below the raised stage of bamboo poles, lighted by two large paper lanterns. The show had started already, for Bao couldn't afford to let the death of his son interfere with the theatrical routine. He, his wife and his daugh­ter, all three dressed in gorgeous stage costumes, stood in front of two superimposed tables representing a throne. Mrs Bao sang to the accompaniment of a strident fiddle.

Ma Joong went to the bamboo cage next to the stage where the greybeard was vigorously scraping his two-stringed violin, at the same time working a brass gong with his right foot. Ma Joong waited till he put the violin aside and changed to a pair of wooden clappers. He nudged him and asked with a meaningful grin:

'Where can I meet the women?'

The old man pointed with his bearded chin at the stepladder behind him, then beat his clappers extra hard.

Ma Joong climbed up to the improvised green-room, separated from the stage by screens of bamboo matting. There was only a cheap dressing-table littered with platters for rouge and powder, and one low tabouret.

Loud shouts of approval from the audience indicated that the actors had reached the end of a scene. The dirty blue curtain was drawn aside and Miss Bao came in.

She was dressed for the part of a princess, in a long green robe glittering with brass-foil ornaments, and wearing an elaborate headdress decorated with garish paper flowers. Two long tresses of glossy black hair hung down from her temples. Although her face was covered with the thick layer of stage make-up, Ma Joong thought that she still looked remarkably attractive. She gave him a quick look, then sat down on the tabouret. Leaning towards the mirror to inspect her painted eyebrows, she asked listlessly:

'Is there any news?'

'Nothing in particular!’ Ma Joong replied cheerfully. 'I just came round for a talk with a charming girl!’

She turned her head and gave him a contemptuous look. 'If you think that'll get you anywhere with me,' she snapped, 'you are wrong!'

'I wanted to talk about your parents!' he said, taken aback by this abrupt rebuff.

'Parents? About my mother, you mean! Well, for her you need no intermediary, she's always open to a fair business pro­position!'

Suddenly she buried her face in her hands and started to sob. He stepped up to her and patted her on the back. 'Now don't get upset, dear! Of course this terrible affair of your brother has.. .'

'He wasn't my brother!' she interrupted him. 'This life ... I can't stand it any longer! My mother a whore, my father a stupid fool who dotes on her ... You know what part I am acting now? I am the daughter of a noble king and his chaste queen! How's that for a joke?' She angrily shook her head, then started to dab her face energetically with a wad of paper. She resumed in a calmer voice, 'Imagine, mother produced that boy half a year ago, out of nothing! Told father she had made a little mistake, eight years ago. The fellow who had got her into trouble had looked after the boy all that time, then decided he couldn't keep him any longer. Father gave in, as always ...' She bit her lips.

'Have you any idea,' Ma Joong asked, 'who could have played that infernal trick on your father tonight? Has he met an old enemy here, perhaps?'

'Why should those swords have been exchanged intentionally?' she said curtly. 'My father could have made a mistake, couldn't he? The two swords look exactly the same, you know. They have to, else the trick wouldn't look genuine.'

'Your father seemed sure someone had changed them,' Ma Joong remarked.

Suddenly she stamped her foot on the floor and exclaimed: 'What a life! I hate it! Heaven be praised that I'll be making a new start soon. At last I have met a decent fellow who is willing to pay father a handsome dowry, and take me as a concubine.'

'Life as a concubine isn't always so great, you know!'

'I won't be a concubine for long, my friend! His wife is ailing and the doctors don't give her more than a year or so.'

'Who's the lucky fellow, anyway?'

She hesitated a moment before she replied, 'I'll tell you because you are an officer of the tribunal. Keep it quiet for a while, will you? It's the rice-dealer, Lau. He has had bad luck in business lately, and he doesn't want to speak to my father before he can put the money on the table. Lau is a bit older than me, of course, and he's got old-fashioned ideas in his head, but I tell you I am sick and tired of those so-called gay young blades, who just want to sleep with you once, and then on to the next!'

'How did you come to know Lau?'

'Met him the very day we came here to Poo-yang. He offered father help in renting this yard. Lau took a liking to me at once, he ...'

Her voice was drowned in the deafening applause from outside. She jumped up, put her headdress straight and said hurriedly:

'I must go on now! Good-bye!'

She disappeared through the curtain.

Ma Joong found his friend sitting all alone in the deserted chancery. Chiao Tai looked up and said, 'Seems our case is solved, brother! I have a suspect under lock and key here in jail!’

'I AM THE DAUGHTER OF A NOBLE KING AND HIS CHASTE QUEEN! HOW'S THAT FOR A JOKE?'

'Good!' Ma Joong pulled up a chair and listened to Chiao Tai's story. Then he told him about his interview with Miss Bao. 'Com­bining our information,' he concluded, 'it appears that Miss Bao had a fling with Hoo, in between her meetings with the devoted Lau. Just to keep in good form, I suppose. Well, what are you looking so worried for?'

'I forgot to tell you just now,' Chiao Tai replied slowly, 'that Hoo Ta-ma didn't want to come nice and quiet like, I had to go through some fisticuffs with him. The fellow fought cleanly, not one dirty kick or blow. I can imagine Hoo breaking that boy's neck in a fit of rage when he caught him peeping while he was busy with his sister; but to play that mean trick of exchanging the swords ... No, brother, that isn't in character, I tell you!'

'Some people have all kinds of characters, all at the same time,' Ma Joong said with a shrug. 'Let's go and see how the bastard is getting along.'

They got up and walked to the jail behind the courtroom. Chiao Tai told the keeper to fetch the senior scribe, to act as witness and makes notes of the interrogation.

Hoo was sitting on the couch in his small dark cell, his hands and feet chained to the wall. When Chiao Tai lifted the candle, Hoo looked up at him and said sourly:

'I hate to admit it, dogshead, but that was a nifty throw!'

'Thank you for nothing! Tell me more about this robbery you bungled.'

'Don't see why I shouldn't! Assault and battery, that's all you have on me. Only knocked out one carter, didn't even touch the rice bales.'

'How had you planned to get rid of those two cartloads?' Ma Joong asked curiously. 'You can't sell so much rice without roping in the guild merchants.'

'Sell nothing!' Hoo said with a grin. 'I'd have heaved the bales into the river, the whole lot!’ Seeing their astonished expressions he added: 'That rice had gone bad, all of it, you see. Fellow who had sold it wanted it stolen, then the guild would have had to make good. Since I bungled the job, the rice was duly delivered, found bad, and the dealer had to pay back all the money he had received from the buyer. Bad luck all around. However, I still thought the fellow owed me a silver piece for my trouble. But when I spoke to him about it, he refused to cough up! '

'Who is he?' Chiao Tai asked.

'One of your local rice-dealers, fellow called Lau.'

Chiao Tai shot Ma Joong a perplexed look. The latter asked: 'How did you come to know Lau? You are from Woo-yee, aren't you?'

'Old friend of mine! I've known him for years; he regularly visits Woo-yee. He is a smooth customer, Lau is, always ready for a bit of swindling. Sanctimonious rascal had a love-nest in Woo-yee; the woman he kept there was a friend of a wench I used to go around with — that's how I was introduced to Lau. Some people have funny tastes, though. Mine was a strapping wench, but Lau's an elderly hag. Yet he had a boy by her, my girl told me. Perhaps the hag looked good eight years ago. Heaven knows!'

'Talking about wenches,' Ma Joong said, 'how did you get on to Miss Bao?'

'Simple! Happened to see her on the stage the first night they played here, and took a liking to her. Tried that night, and the next, to get better acquainted, but nothing doing! Yesterday night I tried again — had nothing better to do while waiting for Lau to come across with the silver. It was late at night, after the performance, she looked tired; her nerves were all on edge. But when I asked her anyway, she replied, "All right. But you'd better be good, for it's my last fling! " Well, we slipped into an empty street stall in a quiet corner of the yard there, but just after we got started, that boy popped up, looking for his sister. I told him to make himself scarce, which he did. Whether it was that interruption or lack of proper training I don't know, but anyway I was disappointed by what followed. That's how it goes, you know; sometimes it turns out much better than you expected, other times it's worse. But what I got I got gratis, so who am I to complain?'

'I saw you quarrel with Lau in the street,' Chiao Tai said. 'You two were standing close by that sword* rack. Did you see anybody fiddle with those swords?'

Hoo wrinkled his corrugated forehead. Then he shook his head and answered, 'I had to divide my attention between that bastard Lau and the two women all the time, you see. The daughter was standing right in front of me before the boy started on his somer­saults — I could have pinched her behind. Seeing that she is so standoffish, I pinched her mother's instead when she came to shift the bamboo box a bit to the side. Only reward I got was a dirty look, though. Meanwhile Lau had tried to slip away from me; he nearly stumbled over the box when I dragged him back by the sleeve. Anybody could have switched those two toothpicks on the rack.'

'Including you!’ Ma Joong said coldly.

Hoo tried to jump up, the rattling chains tautened. He sank back with a cry of pain. 'So that's what you are after, you bas­tards!' he shouted. 'Hang that foul murder on me, eh? Of all the mean tricks ...' He looked at Chiao Tai and burst out, 'You can't do that to me, officer! I swear that I never killed a man. I've knocked some fellows about a bit, but that's all. To kill a youngster in such a ...'

'Better think it over!’ Ma Joong said gruffly. ''We have ways and means to get the truth out of you!'

'Go to hell!’ Hoo shouted.

Back in the chancery Ma Joong and Chiao Tai sat down at the large desk against the back wall. The scribe seated himself oppo­site them, close by the candle. The two friends watched him morosely while he took from the drawer a few sheets of blank paper and moistened his writing-brush to work out his notes of the interrogation. After a long pause Ma Joong said:

'Yes, I agree with you that Hoo probably didn't do it. The bastard did do one thing, though. He messed up the case for us — thoroughly!'

Chiao Tai nodded unhappily. 'Lau is a crook, and a lecher to boot, despite his prim air. First kept a woman in Woo-yee, now tries to get Miss Bao in his clutches. Our miss didn't Uve like a nun, but she's still a juicy bit. Lau had no earthly reason to kill the boy or to spite Bao, but we'll put him behind bars anyway. Our judge will want to check Hoo's statements with him.'

'Why not let the headman get the three Baos and the old musician here tonight as well? Then our judge will have all the human data before him, so to speak. Tomorrow morning, during the session of the court, he'll be able to get down to business right away and settle this case!’

'That's a good idea.'

When Ma Joong came back, the old scribe had finished his notes. After he had read them out aloud, and Ma Joong and Chiao Tai had approved them, the latter said, 'Since you wield that writing-brush so deftly, grandpa, you'd better take down our reports too!’

The scribe resignedly took a sheaf of new sheets. Ma Joong leaned back into his chair, pushed his cap away from his fore­head, and started upon his story, beginning with how they had witnessed the murder from the window of the Kingfisher Restaurant. Then Chiao Tai dictated his report on the arrest of Hoo Ta-ma. It was hard work, for they knew that Judge Dee dis­liked wordy statements, yet insisted on having all details in full. When they were ready at last their faces were wet with perspira­tion.

Thus Judge Dee found them when, an hour before midnight, he came in, clad in his brown travelling-robe. He looked tired and worried. As the three men jumped up quickly, the judge asked sharply:

'What is this all about? When I stepped down from my palan­keen the headman told me that you had two men locked up in jail as murder suspects, and four witnesses summoned!’

'Well, sir,' Ma Joong began diffidently, 'it's rather a sordid murder, of a young boy. My mate and I did a little investigating; all we did is written down here. It began ...'

'Come to my private office!’ Judge Dee interrupted curtly. 'Bring the papers along!’

He ordered the scribe to bring a large pot of hot tea to his office, then went outside followed by his two lieutenants.

Sitting down in the large armchair behind his desk, Judge Dee said, 'That affair in Woo-yee was settled all right. My colleague Pan is an efficient fellow, nice to work with. Sergeant Hoong and Tao Gan are staying on there for another day, to look after a few details.' He took a sip of hot tea, then settled back into his chair with the sheaf of papers.

Ma Joong and Chiao Tai sat stiffly erect on the tabourets in front of the desk. Their throats were parched, but they didn't notice it. They anxiously watched Judge Dee's face for his re­actions.

First the judge creased his bushy eyebrows in a deep frown. But as he read on his face gradually relaxed. When he had finished the last page, he reread some passages, and asked the two men to quote some of their conversations verbatim. Then he threw the papers on the desk. Sitting up, he said with a slow smile:

'Congratulations! Both of you have done very well. You not only carried out the routine work expected from you, but also proved that you are able to take independent action. The two arrests were amply justified.'

His two lieutenants grinned broadly. Ma Joong grabbed the teapot and quickly poured a cup for Chiao Tai and himself.

'Now then,' Judge Dee resumed, 'let's see where we are. In the first place, the facts now before us are insufficient to prove that it was murder. Bao was in a hurry, for after the acrobatics they had to rush back to the temple for the stage performance; besides, it was getting dark. Thus it is quite possible that Bao placed the wrong sword on top, by mistake. It's true that he himself sug­gested foul play, but perhaps he was afraid of being accused of criminal negligence, and those travelling actors stand in deadly fear of the authorities.' The judge paused and stroked his long beard. 'On the other hand, the facts you learned about the people connected with this occurrence suggest various reasons why some of them might have intentionally switched the swords. Including Bao.'

'Why should Bao want to kill the boy?' Ma Joong exclaimed.

'To take vengeance on his unfaithful wife and her paramour, the rice-dealer Lau.' Silencing his astonished lieutenants with his raised hand, Judge Dee continued: 'You don't doubt that the boy in Lau's love-nest in Woo-yee was Mrs Bao's illegitimate son, do you? Lau is interested in the stage; I suppose he met Mrs Bao when the troupe was performing in Woo-yee. When their son was born, they entrusted the child to an old crone who kept a house of assignation there. Eight years later Mrs Bao decided to take the child, which meant that she had to confess her in­fidelity to her husband. Miss Bao stated that her father took this very calmly, but Bao's indifference may have been feigned. Today, when Bao saw Lau standing near the sword rack, he realized that this was a splendid opportunity to take vengeance on his un­faithful wife, get rid of the illegitimate child and involve Lau in a murder case — all at the same time. For we can also formulate a strong case against Lau.'

Again Ma Joong and Chiao Tai wanted to speak, but again the judge silenced them and went on: 'Lau had the opportunity, the special knowledge of stage-props required for utilizing the oppor­tunity, and one can imagine more than one motive. Blackmail is the first that comes to mind. When Bao's troupe comes to Poo-yang, Lau offers his services, perhaps hoping to renew his affair with Mrs Bao. But Bao and his wife try to blackmail him — the boy is living proof of Lau's extra-marital activities in Woo-yee. By changing the swords, Lau would destroy that proof, and he could close Bao's mouth by threatening to accuse him of having killed, out of jealousy, his wife's illegitimate child.

'Then, we also have Mrs Bao. Her daughter gave Ma Joong to understand that her mother is practically a prostitute, and the emotions of such women are often difficult to gauge. When Mrs Bao realized that Lau, her former lover, was now transferring his affection to her daughter, she may well have taken revenge on him by having his son killed. However, we shouldn't attach too much importance to Miss Bao's statements, for she seems a rather unbalanced girl. She doesn't hesitate to call her mother a whore and her father a fool, but she herself makes no bones about sleep­ing with a vagabond on the eve of concluding a more permanent arrangement with Lau. We must find out, by the way, whether Miss Bao knew that Lau had been her mother's lover.' He paused, eyed his two lieutenants speculatively, 'I am only surveying all possibilities, mind you. It's no use going further into all this before we know more about the emotional relationships of the persons concerned.'

Judge Dee took the papers up again and leafed through them, studying a passage here and there. Putting them down, he said pensively, 'We must remember that these travelling actors live in two quite different worlds. On the stage they have to identify themselves completely with the great men and women of our national past. Off-stage they are impoverished outcasts who can barely scrape enough together for their daily needs. Such a double life can distort a person's character.'

The judge fell silent. He took a sip from his tea, then sat for a while deep in thought, slowly caressing his sidewhiskers.

'Does Your Honour agree that Hoo is innocent?' Chiao Tai asked.

'No. At least not for the time being. It is true that Hoo Ta-ma made a favourable impression on you two, and for all I know your estimate of him may be entirely correct. However, those vagrant bullies have sometimes strange sides to their character. Hoo went out of his way to stress that it was Miss Bao's fault that their rendezvous was not a success, and he mentioned the interruption caused by the boy as a possible cause. But it may well have been the other way round, namely that it was Hoo himself who failed. He may have feared that his virility was permanently impaired, and such an obsession could inspire in him a violent hatred of that unfortunate boy. I thought it odd that Hoo spoke at such great length about his amorous exploits to two officers interrogat­ing him in jail. It makes one suspect that he is obsessed by the problem to such a degree that he simply has to talk about it. And since Hoo had several talks with the old drummer, he also had a chance to learn about the trick-sword. On the other hand, how­ever, Hoo's expanding on his love-life may just as well have been an innocent desire to show off.' Judge Dee rose and added briskly, 'I'll now have a look at the people concerned. This office is too small. Tell the headman to bring them all to the reception hall. And let the scribe call two clerks, so that the proceedings can be taken down properly. While you two are attending to this, I'll go and have a quick bath.'

The spacious reception hall was very bright. The wall-candles had all been lit, and on the desk in the centre stood two large candelabras of wrought silver. Bao, his wife and his daughter, and the old musician, were seated on chairs in front of the desk. Hoo stood between two constables on the left; Lau on the opposite side, also flanked by two constables. The senior scribe and his two assistants sat at a smaller table. The actors and the prisoners studiously ignored each other; all were staring straight ahead. The hall was deadly quiet.

Suddenly the double-doors were pushed open by the headman of the constables. Judge Dee entered, followed by Ma Joong and Chiao Tai. The judge was clad in a plain, dark-grey robe, and wore a small black skull-cap on his head. All bowed deeply as he went to the desk and sat down in the large armchair of carved ebony. His two lieutenants stood on either side of him.

Judge Dee first surveyed the two prisoners, the sullen Hoo and the prim, rather fussy Lau. He thought that his two lieu­tenants had described these two men very accurately. Then he silently studied the three actors. Noticing how wan and tired they looked, he thought of the long and heavy day they had behind them, and he felt some compunction about playing on their emotions, as he intended to do. He sighed, then cleared his throat and spoke in an even tone:

'Before I question the two prisoners, I first want to establish the exact family-relationship that links those present here with the dead boy.' Looking fixedly at Mrs Bao, he went on: 'I am informed, Mrs Bao, that the boy was your illegitimate child. Is that correct?'

'Yes, Your Honour,' she replied in a voice that sounded very tired.

'Why didn't you take the child to you until it was eight years old?'

'Because I hesitated to tell my husband, and because the father had promised to take care of it. At one time I thought I loved the man, sir; because of him I left my husband for more than a year. The man had told me that his wife was mortally ill, and that after her death he would marry me. But after I had found out what a mean person he really was, I broke off relations. I didn't meet him again until, half a year ago, I ran into him when we were performing in the capital. He wanted to renew our rela­tionship, and when I said no, he said in that case there was no reason why he should pay any longer for the boy. Then I told my husband everything.' She gave the actor by her side an affec­tionate look and went on: 'Understanding man as he is, he didn't scold me. He said that the boy was just what he needed to com­plete our troupe, and that he would make a good acrobat out of him. And he did indeed! People look down on our profession, sir, but my husband and I take pride in it. My husband loved the boy as if he were his own son, he ...'

She bit her twitching lips. After a brief pause Judge Dee asked: 'Did you tell your husband who your lover was?'

'No, Your Honour. The man treated me shabbily, but I saw no reason why I should ruin his reputation. Neither do I see a reason for doing so now. And my husband never asked me.'

'I see,' the judge said. The woman's frank statement bore the hallmark of truth. Now he knew who had murdered the boy. And also the motive: the boy had had to be silenced, as Ma Joong had correctly supposed at the very beginning. But thereafter his lieutenant had failed to apply this theory to the facts that had come to light. Tugging at his moustache, the judge reflected rue­fully that although he now knew who had exchanged the swords, there wasn't a shred of evidence. If he didn't act quickly, he would never be able to prove who committed the crime. He must make the criminal confess here and now, before he had time to realize the full implications of Mrs Bao's statement. He curtly told the headman: 'Bring the accused Lau before me!'

When the rice-dealer was standing in front of the desk, Judge Dee addressed him harshly: 'Lau, here in Poo-yang you have carefully built up a reputation as an honest rice-dealer and a man of impeccable morals, but I know all about your activities in Woo-yee. You tried to deceive your own guild, and you kept a mistress there. Hoo Ta-ma supplied additional details. I advise you to answer my questions truthfully! Speak up, do you admit that it was you who had a liaison with Mrs Bao, eight years ago?'

'I do,' Lau replied in an unsteady voice. 'I beg Your Honour to ...'

There was a strangled cry. Miss Bao had risen from her chair. Clenching her hands, she stared at Lau with wide, burning eyes. He stepped back, muttering something. Suddenly she screamed:

'You unspeakable cad! May heaven and hell curse me for foolishly believing your string of lies! Played the same trick on my mother, eh? And to think that because I was a credulous fool, was afraid, afraid that the brat would tell you about my meeting Hoo, I put the wrong sword on top! I'll kill you too, you ...'

She went for the cowering man, raising her hands like claws. The two constables quickly stepped forward and grabbed her arms. On a sign from the judge they led her away, screaming and fight­ing like a wildcat.

Her parents looked after her with unbelieving eyes. Then her mother burst out in sobs.

Judge Dee rapped his knuckles on the table. 'Tomorrow I shall hear Miss Bao's full confession in court. As to you, Lau, I shall institute a thorough inquiry into all your affairs, and I shall see to it that you get a long prison term. I dislike people of your type, Lau. Hoo Ta-ma, you shall be sentenced to one year com­pulsory labour with the sappers of our Northern Army. That'll give you a chance to prove what you are worth; in due time you'll perhaps be enlisted as a regular soldier.' Turning to the headman, he added: 'Lead the two prisoners back to jail!’

For a while the judge looked silently at the actor and his wife. She had stopped crying; now she sat very still, her eyes down­cast. Bao looked worriedly at her, the lines on his expressive actor's face had deepened. Judge Dee addressed them gently:

'Your daughter could not cope with the hard life fate had allotted to her, and it thoroughly corrupted her character. I must propose the death penalty for her. That means that you lose, on one and the same day, both your daughter and your son. But time shall heal this cruel wound. You two are still in the prime of life, you love each other and your profession, and that twofold devotion shall be a lasting support. Though everything will seem dark to you now, remember that even behind the darkest clouds of night there shines the moon of dawn.'

They rose, made a deep bow and took their leave.