Robert Gulik - The Chinese Gold Murders

"We'll now skin it," Ma Joong said, "Then we'll divide the meat among the peasants. they feed it to their children to make them strong. When we, have prepared the skin, magistrate, we'll present it to you, for the armchair in your library, as a slight mark of our respect."

The judge thanked him., then he took Sergeant Hoong to the main gate. Groups of excited people were coming in, eager to see the dead tiger and the man who killed it.

"I overslept," Judge Dee said to Hoong. "It's about time for dinner. Let's go together to that restaurant where our two braves met Po Kai for the first time, and dine for a change. At the same time we might see what they say about Po Kai there. We can walk; the fresh night air may help to clear the cobwebs from my brain!" They strolled through the busy streets in a southerly direction and found the restaurant without difficulty. Upstairs the owner came hurriedly to meet them, his round face creased in an oily smile. He detained them long enough to give the other guests an opportunity to see what a distinguished visitor lie had, then led them deferentially to a luxuriously appointed separate room, and asked what his humble kitchen might offer them. "A few quail eggs, stuffed shrimps, sliced roast pork, salted fish, smoked ham, shredded cold chicken to begin with, then-"

"Bring us," judge Dee cut him short. "two bowls of noodles, a platter of salted vegetables and a large pot of hot tea. That's all."

"But allow me to offer your excellency at least a small cup of Rose Dew liqueur!" exclaimed the crestfallen manager. "Just to whet the appetite!"

"My appetite is excellent, thank you," said the judge. When the manager had passed on the modest order to the waiter, judge Dee resumed. "Did Po Kai frequent this restaurant?"

"Ha!" the manager exclaimed. "I knew at once that he was a mean criminal! Always when he came in I noticed that furtive look of his, the way he put his hand in his sleeve as if he were ready to produce a dagger from it. When 1 heard this morning that there were placards up for his arrest, ï said, "I could have told that to his excellency long aga."

"A pity you didn't do that then," the judge remarked dryly. lie recognized in the manager that distressing type of witness, a man with no eyes and a fertile imagination. He said, "Send your headwaiter in."

The headwaiter proved to be a shrewd-looking fellow.

"I must say, sir," he began, "that I would never have thought that Mr. Po Kai was a criminal! And in my job one learns to assess the guests. He certainly seemed an educated gentleman, and that lie remained, no matter how much lie drank. He was always kind to the waiters, but never so as to invite familiarity. And I once overheard the head of the Classical School near the Temple of Confucius remarking on the excellent quality of his poetry."

"Did he eat or drink here often with other people?" Judge Dee asked.

"No, sir, during the ten days or so that he came here regularly he ate either alone, or with his friend Kim Sang. They were fond of making jokes together, those two gentlemen. And Mr. Po Kai's arched eyebrows gave his face such a funny expression! Sometimes, though, I noticed that his eyes weren't funny at all; they didn't belong to the eyebrows, so to speak. Then I asked myself whether lie wasn't perhaps wearing some kind of disguise. But then he started laughing again, and I knew that I had been wrong."

The judge thanked him and quickly finished his noodles. He paid his bill despite the energetic protests of the manager, gave the waiters a generous tip and left.

In the street he said to Sergeant Hoong, "That waiter is an observant fellow. I greatly fear that Po Kai indeed wears a disguise. Remember that when lie met Miss Tsao and didn't have to act his part, he struck her as `having an air of authority.' He must be our main opponent, the master criminal behind all this! And we can give up now all hope that our men can discover him, for he doesn't even need to hide. He just sheds his disguise, and no one recognizes him. What a pity that I never met him!"

Hoong had not heard judge Dee's last words. He was listening intently to the sound of cymbals and flutes that came from the direction of the street where the Temple of the City God was located.

"There's a troupe of traveling actors in town, your honor!" he said excitedly. "They must have heard about the ceremony in the White Cloud Temple, and have set up their stage to make some money from the crowd that is on foot tonight. Shall we have a look, your honor?" he added hopefully.

The judge knew that the sergeant had been a devotee of the stage all his life; it was the only relaxation he ever indulged in. He nodded with a smile.

The open space in front of the temple was crowded with people. Over their heads the judge saw the high stage made of bamboo poles and matting. Red and green streamers fluttered in the air above it; actors in glittering costumes were moving about on the stage, lighted by many gaudy lampions.

The two men elbowed their way through the crowd of standing onlookers till they had reached the wooden benches of the paying audience. A heavily made-up girl in a garish stage costume took their money, and found them two empty places in the back row. Nobody paid any attention to the newcomers; all eyes were watching the stage.

Judge Dee looked casually at the four actors. He knew very little about the theatre and its conventions, but he supposed that the old man in the green brocade robe and with the flowing white beard who stood gesticulating in the center must be an elder. The two men who were standing in front of him and the woman kneeling between them he could not place.

The orchestra stopped, the old man began a long recital in a high-pitched voice. The judge was unfamiliar with the queer, drawn-out theatrical diction; he could not follow it.

"What's it all about?" he asked Hoong.

The sergeant replied immediately, "The old man is the elder, your honor. The piece is nearing its end; he is now summing up a plaint the fellow on the left brought against his wife, the kneeling woman. The other man is the brother of the plaintiff; he came along to attest to his high character." He listened awhile, then continued excitedly, "The husband was away traveling for two years, and when he came back he found his wife pregnant. He brought the case before the elder, in order to obtain permission to repudiate her on the ground of adultery."

"Quiet!" a fat man sitting in front of the judge snapped over his shoulder.

Suddenly the orchestra struck up with a scraping of fiddles and clashing of cymbals. The woman rose gracefully and sang a passionate song, the contents of which escaped the judge entirely.

"She says," Sergeant Hoong whispered, "that her husband came back home late one day eight months ago, and spent the night with her. He departed again before dawn."

Pandemonium was breaking loose on the stage. All four actors sang and talked at the same time; the elder walked around in circles, shaking his head so that his white beard fluttered around him. The husband turned to face the audience; waving his arms, he sang in a strident voice that his wife was lying. The forefinger of his right hand had been smeared with lampblack, so as to make it appear that the finger was missing. His brother stood nodding his head approvingly, his arms folded in his long sleeves. He was made up in such a way as to resemble the other closely.

Suddenly the music stopped. The elder roared something at the second man. He acted as if he were very frightened; he turned round and round, stamping his feet on the stage and rolling his eyes. As the elder shouted again at him, the man took his right hand from his sleeve. His forefinger was missing, too.

The orchestra burst out in a frenzied melody. But the music was nearly drowned in the roar of acclamations from the crowd, Sergeant Hoong joining in at the top of his voice.