Poets and Murder

Magistrate Lo muttered something, then devoted his atten­tion to the tea-merchant, who had remained standing just inside the door. Twirling the points of his small moustache with thumb and forefinger, he gave Meng a thoughtful look. Judge Dee thought that Meng had a rather scholarly air: a long, sallow face, the thinness of which was stressed by the drooping moustache and ragged goatee.

'You also mentioned midnight, Mr Meng,' Lo suddenly said. 'Why?'

'It had struck me, sir,' the tea-merchant replied slowly, 'that although Mr Soong was dressed in his nightrobe, the bed had not been slept in. Now we know he kept late hours; there usually was a light in his window till midnight. Therefore I supposed that the murderer surprised Soong just when he was about to go to bed.'

Lo nodded. 'How did the murderer get inside, Mr Meng?' The other sighed. Shaking his head, he replied: 'Mr Soong seems to have been a little absent-minded, Your Honour. The maids told my wife that he would often just sit and brood when they set the table for his meals, and did not reply when addressed. Last night he forgot to bolt the back door of this room, and also omitted to bar the garden gate. This way, please, Your Honour.'

The constable sitting on the ramshackle bamboo bench in the small garden sprang to attention. It crossed Judge Dee's mind that Lo had seen to it that his personnel were trained welclass="underline" posting guards at all approaches to the scene of a crime was a precaution neglected by many more perfunctory magis­trates. He bestowed a cursory look upon the shed that served as kitchen and washroom, then joined Lo and Meng who were going out through the narrow gate in the high garden wall. The headman of the constables followed them into the alley that ran between the forbidding garden walls of the houses in Mr Meng's lane and in the street running parallel to it. Pointing at the heaps of refuse that cluttered up the narrow passage, the tea-merchant remarked:

'Late at night vagabonds and ragpickers often roam about here, Your Honour, exploring these piles of rubbish. I warned Mr Soong always to keep the garden gate barred at night. Last night he must have gone out for a walk, and on his return forgotten to do so. Nor did he bolt the bedroom door, for when I found his dead body, it was standing ajar. The garden gate was closed but not barred. I'll show it to you, exactly as I found it.'

He took them back into the garden. A heavy wooden cross­bar was propped up against the garden wall, beside the gate. Mr Meng resumed:

'It's easy to reconstruct what happened, Your Honour. A ruffian passing through the alley noticed that the garden gate was ajar. He slipped into the garden and inside the house, assuming that the occupant was asleep. But Soong, who was just preparing for bed, spotted him. When the ruffian saw that Soong was all alone, he killed him on the spot. Then he ransacked the bedroom and the library. After he had dis­covered the cash-box, he took the money and left in the same way he had come.'

Magistrate Lo nodded slowly. 'Did Mr Soong usually keep a large sum of money in the cash-box?'

'That I couldn't tell you, sir. He paid one month's rent in advance, but he must have left at least travelling funds for his return journey to the capital. And there may have been some trinkets in his clothes-box.'

'We'll get the scoundrel soon enough, Excellency!' the headman remarked. 'Those ruffians always start spending freely as soon as they've made a good haul. Shall I order my men to make the round of the wine-houses and gambling-dens, sir?'

'Yes, do that, Headman. Let them also make discreet in­quiries in the pawnshops. Place the body in a temporary coffin, and convey it to the mortuary in the tribunal. We must also inform the next of kin.' Magistrate Lo turned to the tea-merchant and asked, 'Soong will have had some friends or relatives here in this town, I suppose?'

'Apparently he hadn't, Your Honour. No one ever came to my house inquiring after him, and to the best of my know­ledge he never received visitors. Mr Soong was a serious, studious young man, kept himself very much to himself. I told him at our first meeting that he was always welcome for a cup of tea and a chat after dinner, but all through the past two weeks he never availed himself of my invitation. That astonished me a bit, sir, for he was a polite, well-spoken youngster. As a common courtesy to one's host, one'd have expected that ...'

'All right, Mr Meng. I'll tell my counsellor to write a letter to the Board of Education in the capital, asking them to in­form Soong's family. Let's go back to the library.'

Lo offered Judge Dee the armchair at the desk. He himself pulled up a barrel-shaped seat to the bookshelves. He took a few volumes down and began to leaf through them.

'Aha!’ he exclaimed. 'Your late mother was a lady of excel­lent literary taste, Mr Meng! She also read the minor poets, I see. Minor by the official standard, at least.' He shot a quick look at the judge and added with a smile, 'My friend Dee, being rather conservative, Mr Meng, probably won't agree. But personally I find those so-called minor poets more original than those who receive official recognition in the Imperial Catalogue.' He replaced the books, and took down a few others. While leafing through them he resumed without look­ing up, 'Since Mr Soong had no friends or relatives here in Chin-hwa, Mr Meng, how did he know that you wanted to rent your back-yard?'