Poets and Murder
- Автор: ван Гулик Роберт Ханс
- Серия: Judge Dee #16
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Poets and Murder». Краткое содержание книги:
Master detective Judge Dee sets out to solve a puzzling double murder and discovers that complicated passions lurk beneath the seemingly tranquil landscape of academic life. A student has been murdered; a beautiful poetess is accused of whipping her maidservant to death; and further mysteries lie in the shadows of the Shrine of the Black Fox.
The judge quickly changed into a simple blue gown. Having put a small black skull-cap on his head, he went outside, the book under his arm.
VIII
Dusk was falling. In the front courtyard of the residence two maids were lighting the lampions hanging from the eaves of the surrounding buildings.
When he had joined the teeming crowd in the broad thoroughfare in front of the tribunal's main gate, Judge Dee heaved a deep sigh of contentment. His feeling of frustration had come mainly from his being cooped up in his colleague's palatial residence, isolated from the pulsating life of the city, a city practically unknown to him. Now that he was taking action, he felt better at once. He let himself be carried along by the throng, scanning all the while the gaudily decorated shop fronts. When he saw the shop-sign of a dealer in musical instruments, he elbowed his way towards the door.
He was met by a deafening din, for half a dozen customers were trying out drums, flutes and two-stringed fiddles, all at the same time. On the eve of the Mid-autumn Festival, every musical amateur was keen to prepare himself for the gay gatherings on the following day. The judge went to the office in the rear, where the owner was hurriedly gobbling down a bowl of noodles at his desk, one watchful eye on his assistants who were helping the customers. Visibly impressed by Judge Dee's scholarly air, the man got up at once and asked what he could do for him.
The judge handed him the musical score.
'All these are tunes for the straight flute,' he said. 'I wonder if you could identify them for me.'
After one glance at the notation the music dealer gave the book back to the judge, saying with an apologetic smile:
'We only know the simple score of ten signs, sir. This must be some ancient system of notation. For that you must consult an expert. Lao-liu is your man, sir. The finest flute-player in town, plays any tune at sight, in any notation, old or new. Lives close by, too.' He wiped his greasy chin. 'Only trouble is that Lao-liu drinks, sir. He starts at noon, after he has given his music lessons, and he is usually drunk by this time. He sobers up later in the evening, when he has to play at parties. Makes good money, but squanders it all on wine and women.'
Judge Dee put a handful of coppers on the table.
'Let one of your men take me to him, anyway.' *
'Of course, sir. Thank you, sir! Hey there, Wang! Take this gentleman to Lao-liu's house. Come back here at once, mind you!’
As the young shop assistant was walking with Judge Dee down the street, he suddenly pulled his sleeve. Pointing at a wine shop opposite he said with a sly grin:
'If you want to do real business with Lao-liu, sir, you'd better buy him a little present. No matter how far gone he is, he'll wake up when you hold a jar of liquor under his nose!’
The judge bought a medium-sized jar of strong white liquor that was drunk cold. The youngster took him through a narrow passage to a dark, smelly back street, lined with ramshackle wooden houses, and lit only by the light that filtered through a dingy paper window here and there. 'The fourth house on your left sir!’ Judge Dee gave him a tip and the boy scurried away.
The door of the flute-player's house was sagging on its hinges. From behind it came round curses, then a woman laughed shrilly. The judge put his hand against the panel and the door swung open.
In the small, bare room, lit by a smoking oil-lamp, hung an overpowering smell of cheap liquor. A fat man with a round, flushed face sat on the bamboo bench at the back. He wore baggy brown trousers, and a short jacket that was open in front, leaving his gleaming paunch bare. A girl was sitting on his knee. It was Small Phoenix. Lao-liu stared up at the judge with bleary eyes. The dancer quickly pulled her skirt down over her thighs, muscular and startlingly white, and fled to the farthest corner of the room, a fiery blush on her still, mask-like face.
'Who the hell are you?' the flute-player asked in a thick voice.
Ignoring the girl, Judge Dee sat down at the low bamboo table, and put the wine-jar down.
Lao-liu's bloodshot eyes grew wide.
'A jar of real Rose Dew, by heaven!’ He came unsteadily to his feet. 'You're welcome, even if you look like the King of Hell himself, with that big beard! Open it up, my friend!’
The judge put his hand on top of the jar.
'You'll have to earn your drink, Lao-liu.' He threw the score book on the table. 'I want you to tell me what tunes are there.'
Standing at the table, the fat man opened the book with his thick but surprisingly nimble fingers. 'Easy!’ he muttered. 'I'll freshen up a bit first, though.' He half-stumbled to the wash stand in the corner, and began to rub his face and breast with a soiled towel.
Judge Dee watched him in silence, still ignoring the dancer. What she was doing there was her own business. Small Phoenix hesitated, then she came up to the table and began timidly:
'I... I tried to persuade him to play at the dinner tonight, sir. He is a beast, but a marvellous musician. When he refused, I let him fondle me a bit...'
'I wouldn't play the blasted "Black Fox Lay" even if you lay with me till morning!' the fat man growled. He groped among the dozen or so bamboo flutes hanging from nails in the cracked plaster wall.
'I thought you were going to dance "A Phoenix among Purple Clouds",' the judge told her casually. He thought the dancer looked rather pitiful, with her still face and her bent narrow shoulders.
A FLUTE-PLAYER QUARRELS WITH A DANCER
'Yes indeed, sir. But after ... after I had seen the fine floor-space in the magistrate's hall ... and after I had been introduced to those two high officials from the capital, and the famous Sexton Loo, I thought this was a chance that would never come again. Therefore I thought I might try to dance the other tune. It allows for a quick, whirling movement... .'
'Wriggle that small bottom of yours to decent music!' Lao-liu snapped. 'The "Fox Lay" is a bad tune.' He sat down on a low stool and opened the score book on his large knee. 'Hm, you don't want to hear the first, of course. "White Clouds Remind Me of her Dress, Flowers of her Face." Everybody knows that love song. The second looks like ...' He brought the flute to his lips and played a few bars that had a fetching lilt. 'Oh yes, that's "Singing to the Autumn Moon". Quite popular in the capital last year.'
The fat man went through the score book, now and then playing a few bars to identify the tune. The judge hardly listened to his explanations. He was disappointed that his theory had come to nothing, but he had to admit it had been a far-fetched idea. The fact that the tunes had no titles and no words, and were written in a complicated notation he had never seen before, had suggested the possibility that it was no musical score at all, but the student's secret notes, written down in a kind of musical cipher. An obscene curse roused him from his thoughts.
'I'll be damned!’ The flute-player was looking fixedly at the last tune in the book. He muttered, 'The first bars look different, though.' He put the flute to his lips.
Low notes came forth, in a slow, mournful rhythm. The dancer sat up with a startled look. The rhythm quickened; high, shrill notes formed a weird melody. The fat man lowered his flute. 'That's the blasted "Black Fox Lay"!' he said disgustedly.
The dancer bent over the table.
'Give me that score, sir! Please!' There was a feverish gleam now in her large, slanting eyes. 'With that score, any good flautist can play it for me!’
'As long as it isn't me!' the fat man growled, throwing the book on the table. 'I prefer to stay in good health!'