Poets and Murder

The old clerk went to the shelves on the side wall and came shuffling back with an armful of thick rolls. He unrolled a few and peered at the closely written entries, mumbling in his beard, 'Soong Wen-ta ... Soong Wen-ta ...' At last he looked up and shook his head. 'He and his wife must have died without male issue, sir, for no one of that particular Soong family is listed any more. Do you wish to know in what year they died, sir?'

'No, that's not necessary. Give me the list of members of the Guild of Hardware Dealers!’ The judge got up from his chair. This was the last chance.

The greybeard opened a large box marked 'Minor Guilds'. He selected a thin booklet and handed it to the judge. While the old man gathered up again the rolls of the Population Register, Judge Dee leafed through the booklet. Yes, there was a hardware dealer called Hwang, married to a woman of the surname Soong. The item was marked by a small circle in the margin, meaning that Hwang was in arrears with the payment of his membership fees. He was living in an alley near the East Gate. Judge Dee memorized the address, then he threw the booklet on the table with a satisfied smile.

Bending over the dossier of the Mo household, he verified that after the execution of the general the family had scat­tered. The dead concubine's son, Soong I-wen, had been adopted by a distant uncle in the capital. The judge detached from the file the copy of the anonymous letter accusing the general and put it into his sleeve. He thanked the old clerk, and told him he could replace all the files. Then he walked over to the residence.

On approaching the fourth courtyard, the judge was greeted by the shouts and laughter of children. It was a charming scene. About two dozen children, all dressed up in gaudy costumes, were romping about the man-high Moon Altar, which had been erected in the centre of the paved yard. On top of it was the white figure of the long-eared Moon Rabbit, fashioned out of dough and standing on a pile of Moon Cakes — round flour-cakes stuffed with sweet beans. At the base was a profusion of platters and bowls heaped with fresh fruit and sweetmeats, and at the corners high red candles and bronze incense burners; these would be lit after dark.

Judge Dee crossed the yard to the broad marble terrace where a small group of people stood watching: the Court Poet and Sexton Loo at the marble balustrade, Lo, the Academician and the poetess behind them, beside a capacious armchair of carved ebony, set on a low dais. In the armchair sat a frail old lady in a long black dress, her snow-white hair combed back straight from her forehead. She held in her wrinkled hands an ebony walking-stick with a handle of green jade. Behind the chair stood a tall, handsome woman of middle age, very stiff and erect in a close-fitting robe of embroidered green silk. She was evidently Magistrate Lo's First Wife. The two dozen or so women hovering in the shadows of the hall behind her would be his secondary wives with their personal maids.

Ignoring all others, the judge stepped up to the Old Lady and made a low bow in front of the dais. While she was surveying him with her keen old eyes, Lo bent over to her and whispered respectfully:

'This is my colleague Dee from Poo-yang, Mother.'

The old lady nodded her small head, and bade the judge welcome in a soft but surprisingly clear voice. He inquired respectfully after her age, and learned she was seventy-two.

'I have seventeen grandchildren, Magistrate!' she an­nounced proudly.

'A virtuous house is blessed by numerous progeny, Milady!’ the Academician pronounced in his loud voice. The old lady bobbed her head with a pleased smile. Judge Dee greeted Shao, then paid his respects to the Court Poet and Sexton Loo. Finally he inquired after the health of the poetess. She replied that she was feeling all right, thanks to the good care of the magistrate's First Lady. But the judge thought her face looked drawn and wan. He took his colleague apart and told him in a low voice:

'The student was a son of General Mo Te-ling, by an un­official concubine of the surname Soong. He came here to prove that his father had been falsely accused. Exactly as he told Saffron. He didn't come under an assumed name, because he left here when he was only five, and only an aunt survives. Cheer up, Lo! Even though the poetess should indeed prove to have murdered the dancer, if you can report at the same time that you have discovered that General Mo Te-ling has been wrongly executed, you'll stand a good chance of evading the impending crisis!’

'Good gracious, Dee, this is marvellous news! Tell me more about it while we are at table. It'll be an open-air affair, over there!’

He pointed at the open corridor running along the back of the terrace. Between the pillars stood tables, loaded with plat­ters of cold snacks, alternating with piles of moon-cakes, artistically heaped into pyramids.

'I must leave now, Lo. I have to pay a visit downtown, then go on to the Black Fox Shrine. But I'll try to be back before your poetical gathering at four.'

After they had rejoined the others, the old lady intimated that she wanted to retire. The Academician and the others made their bows, and Lo and his First Lady led her inside. Judge Dee told the Academician that urgent papers had arrived by courier from Poo-yang, and asked to be excused from attending the open-air meal.

'Duty before pleasure. Off you go, Dee!’