The Chinese Nail Murders

Fifteenth Chapter

Strolling aimlessly from one street stall to another, Sergeant Hoong noticed that dusk was falling. He thought he had better go back to the tribunal.

His patient questioning of the two young men who had en­tered the bathhouse with the Tartar youth had produced very little result. They had not been able to add anything to the information given by their friend who had been interrogated by Judge Dee. The two had said that the Tartar had seemed to them just another young fellow; the only thing that had struck them had been the pallor of his face. They had not noticed the lock of hair and the Sergeant reflected that the first youngster might well have mistaken a slip of the scarf for it.

He stood looking for a moment at the shop of a pharmacist, and tried to identify the queerly shaped roots and dried small animals that lay in trays in front of the counter.

A large man brushed past him. The Sergeant turned around and saw a broad back, and a pointed black hood.

He quickly elbowed his way through a group of loiterers and was just in time to see the man disappear around the next corner.

He hurried after him, and saw him again, standing in front of a jeweler's counter. The hooded man asked something, and the jeweler took out a tray with glittering objects, which the man started to examine.

The Sergeant came as near as he dared, eager to catch a glimpse of the man's face. But the side of the hood prevented that. Hoong walked up to the noodle stall next to the jeweler's, and ordered a bowl. While the vendor was ladling out the noodles, the Sergeant kept his eyes on the hooded man. But now two other prospective buyers were talking to the jeweler, and obstructed the Sergeant's view. He saw only the gloved hands of the hooded man, who was examining a glass bowl filled with red stones. He pulled off one glove and picked up a ruby which he put in the palm of his right hand. He rubbed the stone with his forefinger. The two other buyers walked on, and now the Sergeant had a full view of the man. But he was standing with his head bent, and Sergeant Hoong still could not see his face.

The Sergeant was so excited that he could hardly swallow his noodles. He saw the jeweler raise his hands to heaven and start to talk volubly. Evidently he was discussing the price with the hooded man. But although the Sergeant strained his ears, he could not hear what was being said because of the confused talk of the noodle-eaters standing by his side.

He quickly took a mouthful. When he looked again the jeweler was shrugging his shoulders. He wrapped up something small in a piece of paper and handed it to the hooded man, who turned around quickly and disappeared in the crowd.

Sergeant Hoong put his bowl, still half-full with noodles, down on the counter and went after him.

"Hey, grandpa, don't you like my noodles?" the vendor shouted indignantly. But the Sergeant did not hear him. He had spotted the hooded man just as he had entered a wine house.

The Sergeant heaved a sigh of relief. Halting in his steps he peered over the heads of the crowd. He deciphered with difficulty the half-effaced characters on the grimy signboard. It read: the BREEZE OF SPRING.

He scrutinized the passers-by, looking for somebody he knew. But he saw only coolies and small merchants. Suddenly he recog­nized a bootmaker he sometimes patronized. He quickly grabbed him by his sleeve. The man opened his mouth for an angry ques­tion, but when he recognized the Sergeant his face lit up in a smile. "How are you, Master Hoong?" he asked politely. "When shall this person have the honor of making a nice pair of good winter boots for you?"

Sergeant Hoong pulled him over to the side of the street. He took from his sleeve the small card case of faded brocade he kept his visiting cards in, and one silver piece.

"Listen," he whispered, "I want you to run to the tribunal as fast as you can, and demand to see His Excellency the Magistrate. Tell the guards you have an urgent message from me, and show this card case as proof. When you see the judge, tell him to come immediately to that wine house over there, with his three lieu­tenants, to arrest a man we were looking for. Here, take this silver piece for your trouble!"

The shoemaker's eyes grew round as he looked at the silver piece. He started to thank the Sergeant profusely, who quickly cut him short.

"Get on!" he urged. "Run as fast as you can!"

Then Hoong walked over to the wine house and went inside.

The room was larger than he had expected, more than fifty people were sitting in groups of three and four at the deal tables, drinking cheap liquor and talking noisily. A surly waiter was rush­ing around, balancing a tray with wine jugs on his raised hand.

The Sergeant quickly surveyed the room through the reeking smoke of the oil lamps. He saw no one with a black hood.

As he picked his way among the tables, he suddenly saw that at the back of the restaurant there was a kind of nook, next to a narrow door. There was just place for one small table, and there the hooded man was sitting, with his back to the room.

With a sinking heart the Sergeant looked at the wine jug in front of the man, and the narrow door. He knew that in low-class establishments like this, one had to pay immediately for what one ordered. If the hooded man decided to leave, he could do so any time he wished. And he had to keep him in the wine house at all costs till the judge arrived.

The Sergeant walked over to the nook, and tapped the hooded man on his shoulder. He looked around with a start, and two rubies which he had been examining dropped to the floor.

Sergeant Hoong's face grew pale as he recognized the man.

"What might you be doing here?" he asked incredulously.

The man shot a quick look at the crowd. No one paid any at­tention to them. He put his finger to his lips.

"Sit down!" he whispered, "I'll tell you all about it!"

He pulled a stool around next to him, and made the Sergeant sit down.

"Now listen carefully!" the man said. He leaned over to the Sergeant. At the same time his right hand came out of his sleeve with a long, thin knife. He stuck it with lightning quickness deep into the Sergeant's breast.

Hoong's eyes opened wide, he wanted to cry out, but a stream of blood came from his mouth. He sank forward on the table, groaning and coughing.

The hooded man observed him impassively, at the same time watching the room. Nobody was looking in their direction.

The Sergeant's right hand was moving. With a twitching finger he wrote one character of a family name in the blood on the table top. Then his frame shook in convulsions, and he was still.

The hooded man disdainfully rubbed the character out. He wiped off his bloody fingers on Sergeant Hoong's shoulder. After another quick look at the crowd he rose, opened the back door and was gone.

When Judge Dee, followed by Ma Joong, Chiao Tai and Tao Gan, came running into the passage leading to the Breeze of Spring, they saw that a group of people had gathered under the lantern over the front door, talking excitedly.

Judge Dee's heart sank. Someone called out: "Here are the men from the tribunal to investigate the murder!"

The people hastily made way, and the judge ran inside, fol­lowed by his three lieutenants. He pushed the men standing in the farthest corner aside. Then he stood stock-still, looking down on the body of Sergeant Hoong, slumped over the table in a pool of blood.

The owner of the wine house wanted to say something, but when he saw the faces of the four men, he quickly drew back and motioned to the other people to go over with him to the other side of the room.

After a long time Judge Dee stooped and softly touched the dead man's shoulder. Then he carefully raised the gray head, loosened the robe and inspected the wound. He slowly let down the head again on the table. As he folded his arms in his sleeves, his three lieutenants quickly looked away. They saw tears moisten­ing Judge Dee's cheeks.

Tao Gan was the first to recover from this fearful blow. He scrutinized the table top, then looked at the Sergeant's right hand. He remarked:

"I think the brave fellow tried to write something in his own blood. There is a curious smudge here."

"We are just nothing compared to him," Chiao Tai said fiercely. Ma Joong bit his lips till the blood trickled from his chin.

Tao Gan went down on his knees and searched the floor. When he rose he silently showed the judge the two rubies he had found.

Judge Dee nodded. He said in a strange, hoarse voice:

"I know about the rubies. But now it's too late." After a pause he added: "Ask the owner whether our Sergeant came here with a man wearing a black hood."

Ma Joong called the manager. The man swallowed several times, then stammered:

"We ... we know nothing about this, Your Excellency! A man ... a man with a black hood was sitting alone at this table. None of us knew him. The waiter says he ordered one jug of wine and paid for it. Sometime after that, this poor gentleman must have joined him. When the waiter discovered him, the other man had left."

"What did the man look like?" Ma Joong barked at him.

"The waiter saw only his eyes, Excellency! The man was cough­ing, he had drawn the ear flaps of his hood together over his mouth, and ..."

"It doesn't matter," the judge interrupted in a toneless voice. The manager scurried away.

Judge Dee remained silent. None of his assistants dared to speak.

Suddenly the judge looked up. He fixed Ma Joong and Chiao Tai with his burning eyes. After a few moments' thought he said harshly to them:

"Listen carefully! Tomorrow at dawn you will ride to Five Rams Village. Take Chu Ta-yuan with you, he knows many short cuts. Go to the village inn, and ask for a full description of the man who met Pan Feng there when he was staying at that inn. Then come back straight to the tribunal here, together with Chu Ta-yuan. Have you got that?"

As his two lieutenants nodded, the judge added in a forlorn voice:

"Bring the body of the Sergeant to the tribunal."

He turned around and left without another word.