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.
'You mean after she had recited that strange poem on "The Happy Reunion"?'
'Precisely. She likes you, Lo, and I am firmly convinced she would never have composed the poem if she hadn't been in such a state of emotional tension that she simply forgot you were there. Later, when we were watching the fireworks on the balcony, and when she had calmed down, she more or less apologized to you. The poem was meant for one of your three guests, Lo.'
'I am glad to hear that,' the small magistrate said dryly. 'I was really shocked by her violent denunciation. Especially since the poem was damned good, for an improvisation on the spot.'
'What did you say? I am sorry, Lo, I was thinking again about those two anonymous letters. If they were written by the same man, it means that one of your guests hates Yoo-lan. Hates her so deeply that he wants to bring her to the scaffold. Again we come back to the crucial question: which of the three is it? Well, I promised you I would discuss the White Heron case with the poetess. I hope that tonight I shall have an opportunity. Then I shall broach the subject of the anonymous letter, and unobtrusively watch their reactions, especially those of the poetess. I must tell you frankly, however, that I don't expect much of that attempt!’
'A cheerful thought!’ the magistrate muttered. He leaned back into the cushions, and resignedly folded his hands over his paunch.
After some time they came on to level ground again. The palankeen halted amidst the noise of confused voices.
They were on a stretch of table land, in an open space among the huge old pine trees whose deep, bluish-green colour had given the Emerald Cliff its name. Further ahead, on the very edge of the cliff, stood a single-storeyed pavilion, open on all four sides, the heavy roof supported by stately rows of thick wooden pillars. The cliff was overhanging a deep mountain gorge. Opposite rose two mountain ranges, the first ridge about level with the pavilion, the second towering into the red-streaked sky. At the other end of the cliff was a small temple, its pointed roof half hidden by the high branches of the pine trees. In front of the temple stood a cluster of small food-stalls, closed now because of the magistrate's visit. Lo's cooks had established there an open-air kitchen. Servants carrying hampers and large wine-jars were busy about the trestle tables put up under the trees. It was there that all the constables, guards and other officers of the tribunal would be entertained. The chair-bearers and coolies would take care of the rest of the food and the wine.
When Magistrate Lo was standing by the first palankeen to welcome the Academician and the Court Poet, the dishevelled figure of Sexton Loo came into sight. He had tucked the slips of his faded blue gown under his straw belt, revealing his muscular, hairy legs. He carried the clothes bundle over his shoulder on the crooked stick, as peasants do.
'You look like a real mountain recluse, Sexton!’ the Academician shouted. 'But one who thrives on better things than just pine-seeds and morning dew!’
The obese monk grinned, revealing his brown, uneven teeth. He went off in the direction of the temple. Magistrate Lo conducted his other guests up a path strewn with pine-needles, leading to the granite steps of the slightly raised base of the pavilion. Judge Dee, who was bringing up the rear, noticed that three soldiers had not followed the others to the improvised kitchen. They were squatting together under a tall pine tree, about half-way between the pavilion and the temple. They wore spiked iron helmets, and had their swords strapped to their backs. He recognized the broad-shouldered sergeant he had seen in the tribunaclass="underline" they were the guards, the Prefect's escort of the poetess. Magistrate Lo's guarantee for the poetess only covered her stay in the residence. Now that she was outside, her escort was on the alert again. They were right, for they were answerable for the prisoner with their lives. But their grim presence at this gay excursion gave the judge a sudden pang of anxiety.
XVII
Judge Dee followed the others into the pavilion. They had a quick cup of hot tea, then Magistrate Lo took them to the low balustrade of carved marble that marked the edge of the cliff. Standing there at the balustrade, they silently watched the red disc of the sun sink behind the mountains. Then the shadows gathered quickly over the gorge. Bending over, Judge Dee saw that there was a sheer drop of more than a hundred feet. A thin mist came up from the mountain stream that swirled over the jagged rocks, deep down below.
The Court Poet turned round.
'An unforgettable sight!’ he said reverently. 'Wish I could capture its magnificence in a few lines, evoking ...'
'As long as you don't copy mine!’ the Academician interrupted with a thin smile. 'The first time I visited this famous site — I was accompanying the State Counsellor Chu — I wrote four stanzas on this sunset. The Counsellor had them engraved on the rafters here, I suppose. Let's have a look, Chang!'
They all went to inspect the dozens of larger and smaller boards hanging from the pavilion's rafters, all bearing essays and poems composed by famous visitors. The Academician told the waiter who was lighting the floor-lamps to hold one high. Peering up, the Court Poet exclaimed:
'Yes, Shao, there is your poem! Very high up, but I can still make out the text. Fine classic style!’
'I hobble along on the crutches of old quotations,' the Academician said. 'They might have given it a better place, though. Ah, yes, now I remember! On that occasion the counsellor bestowed on our meeting the name of "Gathering above the Clouds". Does anyone have a good suggestion for tonight's meeting?'
' "The Gathering in the Mist".' A hoarse voice spoke up. It was Sexton Loo who had come up the steps, now clad again in his long wine-red robe with the black borders.
'Very good!’ the Court Poet called out. 'There's indeed a great deal of mist. Look at those long trailers drifting among the trees!’
'I was not referring to that,' the sexton remarked.
'Let's hope the moon'll be out soon,' Judge Dee said. The Mid-autumn Festival is devoted to the moon!’
The servants had filled the wine cups on the round, red-lacquered table standing close by the marble balustrade. It was loaded with platters of cold dishes. The small magistrate raised his cup.
'I respectfully bid all of you welcome to the Gathering in the Mist! Since this is a very simple, rustic meal, I propose that we all sit down without regard to the conventionalities!’
He was careful, however, to offer the Academician the seat on his right, and the poet the one on his left. There was a chill in the air, but thick padded quilts had been draped over the chairs, and wooden foot-rests placed on the paved floor. Judge Dee sat down opposite his colleague, between Sexton Loo and the poetess. The waiters put large bowls with piping hot dumplings on the table. Lo's chief cook had evidently realized that the guests wouldn't care for too many preliminary cold dishes on this chilly night up on the cliff. Two maids refilled the cups. The sexton emptied his in one draught, then said in his croaking voice: