Robert Gulik - The Chinese Bell Murders

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It's never easy reviewing a classic; obviously it is good or it wouldn't be regarded as such, and if it has just been reprinted then its charm and relevance still exist for readers today. Since its publication in 1958, Robert Van Gulik's enchanting stories about the crime-solving exploits of historical character Judge Dee have delighted readers all over the world. If you haven't met Judge Dee yet, now is a good time to start! In this early novel he has just taken up a post as magistrate in the town of Poo-Yang and soon finds his work cut out for him. He has to solve a rape murder, root out what is going on in a remarkably wealthy Buddhist temple and sort out a complex family feud that dates back years.
Put like that, it sounds rather bald and Van Gulik is certainly not verbose; there isn't a spare word in here. This is the China of our dreams, a Willow Pattern plate come to life with paper lanterns, pagodas and the line between the mundane world and the supernatural agreeably blurred. The author's hand drawn plates add even more charm, but look closer and see that this is no cozy chopstick idyll. There is grit in here too, and the Judge is there to see that justice is done, complete with harsh penalties. This is a world of extremes, where torture is part of the judicial system, towns often need to be fortified and all are subject to the whims of the rulers. But, despite all this, the story never gets bogged down in these harsh details, and we are shown a world full of ordinary people going about their daily lives minus anachronisms. Modern political correctness has no place here. Add to all this a jolly good tale containing three cases entwined around each other, the likeable team of the Judge and his men plus some handy historical notes and you have the recipe for…a classic.
***
The great Chinese detective Judge Dee begins work on the most disquieting case of his career when he reviews the rape murder on Half Moon Street.

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'Mrs Lin had told Lin Fan the truth about herself, but she had lied to him about the youngster who was with her. She told Lin Fan it was Liang Ko-fa. This brings me to the most unbelievable, the most inhuman part of this dark, inhuman tragedy. Mrs Lin's lie was part of a fiendish scheme more repulsive in its subtle cruelty than any of Lin Fan's own barbarous crimes. The youngster was her own son, begotten by Lin Fan.'

Now all four men started to speak, but again the judge silenced them by raising his hand.

'When Lin Fan raped Mrs Liang Hoong, he didn't know that his wife, after all those years of frustration, had just become pregnant. I wouldn't presume, my friends, that I can gauge the deepest secrets of a woman's soul. But I take it that Lin Fan going to another woman just at the time which Mrs Lin considered as the climax of their married love, inspired her with that maniacal and inhuman hatred. I say inhuman, because she sacrificed her own son in order to be able to deal Lin Fan, after she would have succeeded in ruining him, one last, shattering blow. She would tell him that he had murdered his own son.

'Doubtless she had convinced the youngster that he was indeed Liang Ko-fa, by telling him, for instance, that the young children had been exchanged in order to protect him better against Lin Fan's attacks. But she made him wear the locket that Lin Fan had given her on their wedding day.

'I am telling you this fearful tale as I could finally complete it for myself during my hearing of Lin Fan. Till then it was but a vague theory. The first confirmation was Lin Fan's reaction -when I showed him the locket; he nearly said that it belonged to his wife. The second and final confirmation came during those brief, pathetic moments when man and wife stood facing each other before my bench. Mrs Lin's supreme moment had at last arrived, the goal she had been working for so assiduously had been reached: her husband was ruined, he would perish on the execution ground. Now the time had come to deal him the blow that would break his heart. Raising her hand in accusation she began: "You murdered your____________________" But then she found she couldn't bring out those last two words that would complete the terrible sentence "You murdered your own son." When she saw her husband standing there covered with blood, at last defeated, all her hatred suddenly left her. She saw only the husband she had loved. When, overcome by emotion, she started swaying on her feet, Lin Fan rushed towards her. Not to attack her, as the headman and everyone else thought. I saw the look in his eyes, I know that he only wanted to support her, to prevent her from falling and hurting herself on the stone floor.

'That is all. You'll now understand the difficult position I found myself in, already before I heard Lin Fan. I had arrested him, and I had to convict him quickly, and without utilising his murdering his son. It would have taken months to prove Mrs Lin's usurping Mrs Liang's identity. Therefore I had to try to trap Lin Fan and make him confess his assault on us.

'But his confession didn't solve my quandary. The central authorities would certainly assign a major part of Lin Fan's confiscated property to the supposed Mrs Liang. I could never allow the pseudo Mrs Liang to obtain that property which rightfully belonged to the State. I was waiting for her to approach me, for she must have suspected that I knew the truth when I started questioning her about details of the flight from the burning redoubt. When she didn't come, I feared I would be obliged to take legal action against her. Now also that problem is solved. Mrs Lin decided to kill herself. But she waited because she wished to die on the same day and the same hour as her husband. And now Heaven shall judge her.'

Deep silence reigned in the room.

Judge Dee shivered. Pulling his robes closer he said:

'Winter is approaching, there's a chill in the air. On your way out, Sergeant, you might tell the clerks to prepare a brazier.'

When his four assistants had left, Judge Dee rose. He went over to the side-table with the cap-mirror to take off his winged judge's cap. The mirror reflected his haggard, tortured face.

Automatically he folded the cap up and placed it in the drawer of the mirror stand. He put on his house cap, and started pacing the floor, his hands behind his back.

He tried desperately to compose his mind. But as soon as he had succeeded in diverting his troubled thoughts from the horrors he had just related, there rose before his mind's eye the gruesome sight of the mangled bodies of the twenty monks, and the mad laughter of Lin Fan as his limbs were torn apart began to ring again in his ears. He asked himself in despair how August Heaven could will such inhuman suffering, such sickening bloodshed.

Tom by doubt he stood still in front of his desk, he buried his face in his hands.

When he lowered his hands his eye fell on the letter from the Board of Rites and Ceremonies. With a forlorn sigh he remembered his duty to verify whether the clerks had placed the board in the proper place.

He pulled aside the screen that separated his private office from the court-hall. Walking past the dais he stepped down into the hall, and turned round.

He saw the bench covered with scarlet cloth, and his empty arm-chair. He saw behind it the screen with the large embroidered unicorn, the symbol of perspicacity. And as he looked higher, he saw on the wall above the canopy over the dais, the horizontal board with the Imperial Words.

When he read them he felt deeply moved. He knelt on the bare flagstones. All alone in the cold, empty hall he remained so for a long time, in earnest and humble prayer.

High up above him the morning sun coming through the windows shone on four large gilded characters, written in the Emperor's faultless calligraphy:

'Justice outweighs human life.'

JUDGE DEE KNEELS BEFORE AN IMPERIAL INSCRIPTION POSTSCRIPT A feature all old - фото 18

JUDGE DEE KNEELS BEFORE AN IMPERIAL INSCRIPTION

POSTSCRIPT

A feature all old Chinese detective stories have in common is that the role of detective is always played by the magistrate of the district where the crime occurred.

This official is in charge of the entire administration of the district under his jurisdiction, usually comprising one walled city and the countryside around it for fifty miles or so. The magistrate's duties are manifold. He is fully responsible for the collection of taxes, the registration of births, deaths and marriages, keeping up to date the land registration, the maintenance of the peace, etc., while as presiding judge of the local tribunal he is charged with the apprehension and punishing of criminals and the hearing of all civil and criminal cases. Since the magistrate thus supervises practically every phase of the daily life of the people, he is commonly referred to as the 'father-and-mother official.'

The magistrate is a permanently overworked official. He lives with his family in separate quarters right inside the compound of the tribunal, and as a rule spends his every waking hour upon his official duties.

The district magistrate is at the bottom of the colossal pyramidal structure of ancient Chinese government organisation. He must report to the prefect, who supervises twenty or more districts. The prefect reports to the provincial governor, who is responsible for a dozen or so prefectures. The governor in his turn reports to the central authorities in the capital, with the Emperor at the top.

Every citizen in the Empire, whether rich or poor and regardless of his social background, could enter official life and become a district magistrate by passing the literary examinations. In this respect the Chinese system was already a rather democratic one at a time when Europe was still under feudal rule.

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