The Chinese Maze Murders (23 page)

So speaking he passed under the archway, crossed the paved yard and walked back into the garden. Never had the warm sunlight been so welcome to him.

Judge Dee looked up at a huge cedar tree that rose high over the pines. He said to Ma Joong:

“I would like to have at least a general idea of the size and shape of this maze. We need not go inside for that. If you climb this tree you should be able to obtain a view of the entire area.”

“That is easily done!” Ma Joong exclaimed.

He loosened his girdle and took off his outer robe. Then he jumped and just caught the lowest branch. He pulled himself up. Soon he had disappeared among the thick foliage.

Judge Dee and Sergeant Hoong sat down on a fallen tree. Neither of them spoke.

They heard a crashing sound above them. Ma Joong jumped down. He looked ruefully at a tear in his under garment.

“I climbed up right to the top, Your Honour,” he said. “From there I could overlook the maze. It is circular in
form and extends well, over an acre, right up to where the mountain slope begins. But I could discover nothing of its design. The tree tops meet nearly everywhere, I could see only short stretches of the path. Here and there a light haze hangs over it. I would not wonder if inside there were a number of stagnant pools.”

“Did you see nothing like the roof of a pavilion or a small house?” inquired Judge Dee.

“No,” Ma Joong replied, “I saw only a sea of green tree tops!”

“That is curious,” Judge Dee mused. “Since the Governor spent so much of his time in that maze, one would expect him to have had some small library or studio inside.”

The judge rose and straightened his robes.

“Let us now have a closer look at the mansion itself,” he said.

They passed once more the garden pavilion and the two still figures under the magnolia tree. Then they ascended the terrace.

They inspected a number of larger and smaller empty rooms. Most of the woodwork had rotted away, the bricks showed through the plaster.

As the judge was entering a dim corridor, Ma Joong who had been walking ahead of him called out:

“Here is a closed door, Your Honour!”

Judge Dee and Sergeant Hoong walked up to him. Ma Joong pointed to a large wooden door that was in excellent state of repair.

“This is the first door we find in this place that closes properly!” the sergeant observed.

Ma Joong put his shoulders against it and nearly fell inside. The door swung open smoothly on well-oiled hinges.

Judge Dee stepped inside.

The room had only one window, barred with a solid
iron grating. It was empty but for a rustic bamboo couch in a corner. The floor was swept clean.

Sergeant Hoong entered the room too and walked over to the grated window.

Ma Joong hurriedly stepped out.

“Since our adventure under the bronze bell”
*
, he called to Judge Dee from outside, “I have become very chary of closed spaces! While Your Honour and the sergeant are inside, I shall stand guard here in the corridor and see that no well-wisher slams that door shut on you!”

Judge Dee smiled bleakly.

With a glance at the barred window and the high ceiling he remarked:

“You are quite right, Ma Joong! Once that door is locked we would not easily escape from this room!”

Feeling the smooth bamboo of the couch that did not show one speck of dust, he added:

“Someone has been living here until quite recently!”

“Not a bad hiding place,” the sergeant commented. “This may have served as the lair of a criminal!”

“A criminal or a prisoner,” Judge Dee said pensively.

He then ordered Sergeant Hoong to seal the door.

They inspected the other rooms but did not discover anything. As noon was approaching, Judge Dee decided to go back to the tribunal.

*
See ‘The Chinese Bell Murders’.

Eighteenth Chapter

JUDGE DEE DECIDES TO CONSULT AN OLD HERMIT; MA JOONG CATCHES HIS MAN IN THE DRUM TOWER

O
NCE
they were back in the tribunal Judge Dee immediately had Headman Fang called in. He ordered him to proceed with ten constables and two stretchers to the country mansion to fetch the remains of the old gatekeeper and his wife.

Then the judge had his luncheon served in his private office.

While he was eating he called for the Head of the Archives. This was a man over sixty who had been recommended to the judge by the master of the Guild of Silk Merchants. He was a retired silk dealer who had lived all his life in Lan-fang.

As Judge Dee was emptying his bowl of soup, he asked:

“Have you ever heard of an old scholar in this district who uses the pen name of Hermit clad in Crane-feathers’ ?”

The archivist asked:

“I suppose that Your Honour means Master Crane Robe?”

“That might well be the same man,” Judge Dee said. “He must live somewhere outside the city.”

“Yes,” the other replied, “that is Master Crane Robe, as he is generally called. He is a hermit who has been living in the mountains outside the south gate as long as I can remember. No one knows how old he is.”

“I would like to meet him,” the judge said.

The old archivist looked doubtful.

“That is a difficult proposition, Your Honour!” he remarked. “The old master never leaves his mountain valley and he refuses to see visitors. I would not know that he is still alive were it not that last week I heard that two fuel gatherers had happened to see him working in his garden. He is a very wise and learned man, Your Honour. Some even say that he has discovered the Elixir of Life, and soon will leave this world as an Immortal.”

Judge Dee slowly smoothed his long beard.

“I have heard many a story,” he said, “about such recluses. Usually they turn out to be nothing but extremely lazy and ignorant men. However, I have seen a specimen of this man’s calligraphy, which is absolutely superior. He may be an exception. How is the road out there?”

“Your Honour will have to walk the greater part of the way,” the archivist replied. “The mountain path is so steep and narrow that even a small sedan chair could not pass.”

As the judge thanked the archivist Chiao Tai came in. He was something wrong with the men.

“I trust that there is nothing wrong in the Chien mansion, Chiao Tai?” asked the judge anxiously.

Chiao Tai sat down and started twirling his short moustache. Then he said:

“It is very hard, Your Honour, to explain how one notices a change in the attitude of a body of soldiers. I suppose that it is mainly intuition. For the last two days I have felt there was something wrong with the men.

“I checked with Corporal Ling and found that he too has been worrying. He tells me that some soldiers seem to spend more money than they would be able to account for.”

Judge Dee had been listening intently.

“This sounds serious, Chiao Tai!” he said slowly. “Listen to a queer story of Ma Joong!”

Ma Joong once more told what he had heard in the Northern Row.

Chiao Tai shook his head.

“I fear that this means trouble, Your Honour! Our ruse of creating an imaginary regiment inspecting the border works two ways. On the one hand it enabled us to oust Chien Mow and subdue his men. On the other it may have convinced barbarian tribes planning to raid the city that they have to act now or never, before a garrison arrives.”

Judge Dee tugged at his whiskers.

“A barbarian attack on his town would be the last straw!” he exclaimed angrily. “As if we had not enough difficulties on our hands already! I suspect that that mysterious trouble-maker who directed Chien Mow is at the back of this! How many men do you think we can trust?”

Chiao Tai looked thoughtful. After a while he said:

“I would not count on more than fifty in all, Your Honour!”

All were silent.

Suddenly Judge Dee crashed his fist on the desk.

“It yet may not be too late!” he exclaimed. “That remark of yours about a ruse working two ways, Chiao Tai, has given me an idea.

“Ma Joong, we must immediately apprehend that Uigur ruffian you were to meet last night. Can you arrest that man without attracting the attention of the people out there?”

Ma Joong looked pleased. He put his large hands on his knees and said with a smile:

“Broad daylight is not the most suitable time for such an undertaking, Your Honour, but of course it can be done!”

“Go there immediately with Chiao Tai!” the judge ordered. “But remember that this is to be a secret arrest. If you find that you cannot apprehend him without some-one
knowing it, you must leave him alone and come back here!”

Ma Joong nodded. He rose and beckoned Chiao Tai to follow him.

They went to the quarters of the guards and sat down in a corner. There they held a whispered consultation. Then Ma Joong left the tribunal alone.

He walked round the tribunal compound and sauntered along the main street leading to the north city gate. He stood about for a moment in front of a small eating house. Then he entered.

Ma Joong had been there once before. The manager greeted him by his name.

“I want my luncheon in a small room upstairs!” Ma Joong announced and climbed the stairs.

On the second floor he found an empty corner room. When he had ordered his luncheon, the door opened and Chiao Tai came in. He had entered the restaurant by the backdoor.

Ma Joong hurriedly took off his upper gown and his cap. While Chiao Tai wrapped these up in a bundle Ma Joong ruffled his hair and bound a dirty rag round his head. He tucked the slips of his undergarment in his girdle and rolled up his sleeves. With a hasty farewell he left the room.

Tiptoeing down the stairs he went into the kitchen.

“Have you not a spare oil cake lying about, you fat bastard?” he barked at the cook who was sweating over the kitchen fire.

The cook looked up. When he saw that uncouth ruffian he hastily gave him a flour cake that had stuck to the pan.

Ma Joong muttered something, grabbed the cake and left the kitchen by the backdoor.

Upstairs Chiao Tai had started on his luncheon. Seeing the familiar brown robe and the pointed black cap of the
tribunal the waiter who served him did not realize that this was not the same man who had entered the restaurant.

Chiao Tai planned to leave when the manager would be busy.

In the meantime Ma Joong had strolled to the market near the Drum Tower.

He loitered for a while among the stalls of the street venders, then walked over to the tower.

The dark area under the stone arches that formed the base of the Drum Tower was deserted. On rainy days itinerant merchants often used the sheltered space under the arches for displaying their wares but now they preferred the bright sunlight outside.

Ma Joong looked over his shoulder. When he saw that no one paid any attention to him he quickly stepped inside. He climbed the narrow stairway that led to the second floor.

This was a kind of loft with large windows on all four sides. In hot weather people sometimes came up there to catch the breeze but now there was no one about. The step ladder to the third floor was barred by a wooden gate. There was no lock on it. It was closed by an iron bolt with a strip bearing the large red seal of the tribunal pasted over it.

Ma Joong calmly broke the seal and wrenched the gate open. Then he climbed up to the third floor.

The huge round drum stood on a platform in the middle of the wooden floor. It was covered with a thick layer of dust that had blown in through the open arches. The drum is sounded only in times of emergency to warn the population. Evidently it had not been used for many years.

Ma Joong nodded. He quickly went down again. He looked round the corner of one of the arches. When he saw that no one observed him he slipped out and made for the Northern Row.

In broad daylight the quarter looked even more miserable than at night. There was no one about. Apparently the inmates were sleeping off the night before.

Ma Joong wandered about for a while but he failed to locate the house he had visited.

He pushed open a door at random. A slovenly clad girl was lying on a wooden couch.

Ma Joong gave the couch a kick. The girl slowly scrambled up. She gave Ma Joong a sullen look and started to scratch her head.

Ma Joong said gruffly:

“Orolakchee!”

Suddenly the girl became active. She jumped from the couch and disappeared through the screen at the back. She emerged again dragging along a dirty small boy. Pointing to Ma Joong she rapidly talked to the urchin. Then she said something to Ma Joong. He nodded eagerly although he had not understood a word.

The urchin beckoned to Ma Joong. He rushed out into the street, Ma Joong following on his heels.

The boy slipped into the narrow space between two houses. Ma Joong had difficulty squeezing his large frame through. When he passed underneath a small window-opening of about two feet square he reflected that if somebody inside would choose this moment to crush his skull there was very little he could do about it.

A nail ripped his robe. Ma Joong stood still and ruefully looked at the large tear. Then he shrugged his shoulders; after all this was an additional touch to his disguise.

Suddenly he heard a soft voice calling from above:

“Yoong Bao, Yoong Bao!”

He looked up. The girl Tulbee was looking out of the small window just above his head.

“How are you, my wench?” Ma Joong said pleasantly.

Tulbee seemed very excited. She started to whisper some words looking fixedly at Ma Joong with her large eyes.

Ma Joong shook his head.

“I don’t know what is your trouble, my girl, but I am in a hurry just now. I’ll come back later!”

As he made to go on Tulbee stuck her bare arm through the window and clutched the collar of Ma Joong’s robe. She pointed in the direction the urchin had gone to, shaking her head emphatically. Then she drew her forefinger across her throat.

“Yes, that they are cutthroats I know!” Ma Joong said with a smile. “But don’t you worry, I can take care of myself!”