Robert Gulik - The Chinese Maze Murders

Dark Orchid hastily took her leave.

"It is curious", Sergeant Hoong remarked, "that Candidate Ding did not often go out at night. One would expect that he had some secret love-nest where he met that unknown woman!"

Judge Dee nodded.

"On the other hand", he said, "it may be an old affair that is long over and done with. Sentimental people have an unfortunate habit of keeping souvenirs of past affairs. Yet the originals that Dark Orchid showed me seemed written very recently. Did Tao Gan find any clue to the woman's identity in those papers he copied out?"

"No", Sergeant Hoong replied, "but Tao Gan certainly enjoyed that work! He copied the texts out in his best calligraphy, chuckling all the time."

Judge Dee smiled indulgently. He rummaged among the piles of documents on his desk till he found Tao Gan's copies, neatly written out on ornamental letter paper.

Leaning back in his armchair the judge started reading. After a while he said:

"Well, it is all about the same subject, expressed in different ways. Candidate Ding was deeply enamoured. As if poetry could serve no better purpose! Listen:

The judge threw the paper disdainfully on his desk.

"It rhymes", he remarked dryly, "that is about all that can be said for it!" He slowly smoothed his long beard.

Suddenly the judge stiffened. He picked up the sheet which he had been reading aloud and eagerly scanned it.

Sergeant Hoong knew that Judge Dee had made a discovery. He rose and looked over the judge's shoulder.

Judge Dee crashed his fist on the table.

"Get me the testimony of the house steward, delivered during the preliminary hearing in the Ding mansion!", he ordered.

Sergeant Hoong fetched the leather box that contained the file of General Ding's murder. He extricated a sealed document.

Judge Dee read it through from beginning to end.

Then he put it back in the box. He left his armchair and started pacing the floor.

"What incredible fools people in love are!" the judge suddenly exclaimed. "I have now found the solution of half the General's murder. What a foul, despicable crime!"

The first nightwatch had sounded when Majoong, Tao Gan and Headman Fang gathered in the house of the warden of the eastern quarter. Their faces were tired and drawn in the light of the candles. They sat down silently at the square table.

They had combed out the entire quarter, in vain.

Ma Joong had divided the constables into three groups of seven. One group was headed by Tao Gan, one by Headman Fang, and the third by Ma Joong himself. They had entered the quarter in inconspicuous groups of two or three and by different ways. Under various pretexts these groups had made inquiries in shops and other public places, then they had entered private houses and conducted a thorough search.

The headman's group broke up a secret meeting of thieves, Ma Joong dispersed a gambling party, and Tao Gan disturbed two frightened couples in a clandestine house of assignment. But not one trace of White Orchid was discovered.

Tao Gan closely questioned the woman who kept the house of assignment. He knew that if a girl is kidnapped and kept captive somewhere, such a woman will sooner or later come to know about it. However, half an hour of skilful questioning convinced Toa Gan that she knew nothing about White Orchid; he only learned one or three queer facts about certain leading citizens.

Finally they had to come out in the open and made a systematic search of every household, checking the inhabitants with the census register kept by the warden. But now they had to admit that the search had been a failure.

After a while Tao Gan said:

"There is but one possibility left, namely that the girl was held for a few days only in a house near here. When her captor discovered that she had made a secret trip to the temple, he became alarmed and moved her either to a secret assignment house elsewhere in the city, or placed her in a brothel."

Headman Fang shook his head dejectedly.

"I don't believe", he said, "that they would have sold her to a brothel. We have lived here all our lives and they would run the risk that some visitor to the establishment would recognize her and inform me.

A clandestine assignment house is the most likely place. But to check all those would take many days!"

"Did I not hear", Majoong remarked, "that the so-called Northern Row, the licensed quarter in the northwest corner of the town, is rarely visited by Chinese?"

The headman nodded.

"That is a low-class place", he replied, "used only by Uigurs, Turks and other barbarians from over the border. The girls are a motley crowd, left over from the prosperous days when this town was full of wealthy barbarian chieftains and traders from the western tributary kingdoms."

Ma Joong rose and tightened his belt.

"I shall go there now", he said curtly. "To avoid rousing suspicion, I shall go alone. I'll meet you later tonight in the tribunal!"

Tao Gan had been tugging at the three hairs on his left cheek.

"That is a good idea", he said pensively, "we had better act quickly, for by tomorrow the news of this raid will be all over the town. I shall go now to the Southern Row and have a talk with the owners of the houses there. I am not very hopeful but we cannot afford to neglect even that possibility!"

The headman insisted that he should accompany Ma Joong.

"The scum of the city gathers in that Northern Row", he said. "To go out there alone is asking to be murdered on the spot!"

"Don't worry!", Ma Joong said, "I know how to handle those rascals!"

He threw his cap to Tao Gan and bound up his hair with a dirty strip of cloth. Then he tucked the slips of his robe in his girdle and rolled up his sleeves.

Cutting short the headman's protestations Ma Joong walked out into the street.

In the main street there were still many people about. But Ma Joong made quick progress, all passers-by hastily made way when they saw this huge ruffian approaching.

When he had crossed the market of the Drum Tower he found himself in the quarter of the poor. Rows of low, tumble-down houses lined the narrow streets. Here and there a street vender had lighted his oil lamp. The wares on sale were cheap flour cakes and dregs of wine.

As he approached the Northern Row the scene became more lively. People in queer foreign attire were loitering about the wine shops, talking loudly in raucous, strange languages. They gave Ma Joong but a casual look. Here his disreputable figure was a common sight.

Turning a corner he saw a row of houses garishly lighted by coloured lanterns of oil paper. He heard barbarian guitars being strummed and farther on the strident tones of a flute tore the air.

Suddenly a thin man clad in a ragged gown detached himself from the shadows. He said in broken Chinese:

"Would the master like an Uigur princess?"