The Willow Pattern
- Автор: ван Гулик Роберт Ханс
- Серия: Judge Dee #11
- Год: 101
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «The Willow Pattern». Краткое содержание книги:
As Judge Dee copes with the administration of the plague-ridden Imperial Capital, he must also bring his skills to bear on the mystery of two seemingly unconnected murders that could mean the extinction of the city's oldest, most aristocratic families.
'That's because they are only stage villains. In the theatre, all actors and actresses are sharply divided into good and bad characters. But my puppets are more than actors, soldier. I want them to be real human beings in miniature. Therefore I don't want a stage villain. Do you get me?'
'Frankly, no. But since you are an expert, I suppose you know what you are talking about. What's your name, by the way?'
'I am called Yuan, Yuan the puppeteer. Of the old city.' He threw the puppet back into the basket and asked: 'Do you know the old city?'
'Not too well. I am going there tonight.'
'Have a good look at how people live there, soldier! In dark, damp slums, in abandoned cellars, half underground. Yet I prefer those to the fine houses of the rich. Any time!’ Scratching the furry back of the monkey, he added pensively: 'The poor are always busy trying to fill their stomachs, too busy to think up cruel pastimes to whet their jaded appetites. Like the richards do, in the large house behind us!' He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.
'What would you know about that?' Ma Joong asked idly. The fellow was a bore. He wished that Chiao Tai would come soon.
'More than you'd think, soldier,' Yuan said. There happens to be a crack in the wall behind the curtain here. It shows you part of the inner courtyards. A gallery, as a matter of fact. You may see strange happenings there, on occasion.'
'Nonsense!’ Ma Joong said testily.
The other shrugged his narrow shoulders.
'See for yourself!’
He half-turned on his stool, opened the blue wall-curtain to a narrow slit, and peered through it. Looking round at Ma Joong he said dryly:
'Watch the rich amusing themselves!’
Curious despite himself, Ma Joong got up and put his face to the slit the puppeteer held open for him. Involuntarily he drew in his breath. Through a narrow, jagged crack in the brick wall he looked into a semi-dark, red-tiled gallery. In the back was a kind of portico, its broad windows screened by bamboo curtains. To the left and right was a row of red-lacquered pillars. In speechless horror Ma Joong stared at the tall, thin man who stood in the centre, his back towards him. He was clad in a black silk gown, and in his right hand he held a long whip. With a queer, measured movement he was flogging a stark naked woman who was lying face down, spreadeagled on a low couch. Her long black hair hung down on to the red flagstones, her back and hips were covered with blood. Suddenly the man stopped, his arm with the whip remained motionless in the air. Two large birds came floating along the pillars, with a leisurely flapping of their long, brightly coloured wings.
With a curse Ma Joong turned round.
'Come along, we'll get the bastard!’ he barked. Shaking off the puppeteer, who grabbed his arm, he added quickly: 'Don't worry, I am a colonel of the guards.'
'No need to hurry,' the puppeteer said placidly. 'Your man is right here.' With a deft gesture he parted the blue curtain from top to bottom. It had concealed a square box that stood against the wall on a high tripod. Along the front of the box ran a narrow slit.
'That's my little peepshow,' Yuan explained. He watched Ma Joong's disconcerted face with an amused smile.
'I'll be damned!’ the tall man exploded.
The other felt with his hand behind the box. 'I have more than thirty pictures in here. All scenes from olden times. Have another look!’
When Ma Joong had pressed his face close to the slit, he saw an elegant villa built on the bank of a river, lined by willow trees. Their long, graceful branches wafted to and fro in the breeze. Then a small boat appeared. A man wearing a large round straw hat sculled it slowly along the bank. A beautiful young girl was sitting in the stern. Suddenly the door of the balcony on the villa's upper floor opened, and a man with a long white beard came outside. Then everything went dark.
'The candle inside has burned out and the performance is over. Since it was so brief, it was gratis.'
'How can you make those figures so lifelike? And how the hell do you make them move?'
'I cut them out of cardboard, but I add a peculiar kind of shading, you know, and a special kind of perspective. Inventions of my own. And I make the figures move by means of horsehairs attached to them. You need nimble fingers, but apart from that ...'
He suddenly checked himself and looked round. The door had swung open, and a tall, slender girl came inside.
VI
Standing stiffly erect, she haughtily surveyed the taproom with large, flashing eyes. She was rather poorly dressed: a dark-green jacket of faded brocade on top of a pleated skirt of worn black silk. The jacket was hanging open in front, displaying the upper half of her generous bosom over the tight black bodice. Her finely-chiselled oval face was very pale, setting off her full red lips, slightly parted. Her glossy black hair was combed back carelessly from her forehead, and gathered in a knot at the nape of her neck.
Ma Joong stared at her, spellbound. He thought he had never seen such a beautiful girl. And despite her poor dress, she had a nearly regal air. Observing her slender waist and rounded hips, he suddenly realized that he was doing so without mentally undressing her, as was his wont. She aroused in him a strange mixture of attraction and respect he had never experienced before. 'I must be getting really old!’ he told himself, annoyed.
The small monkey was making a curious, whining sound.
'Quiet!' the puppeteer rasped. His voice had lost the rich timbre of the professional showman.
Her scrutiny completed, the girl went straight to the counter with a purposeful stride, the silk skirt swishing round her long legs. She took the wine-jug and let it rattle on the wood. The hunchback appeared. After one glance at her his wizened, surly face lit up. With a pleased smile he filled a cup. She emptied it in one long gulp, then held it up to be refilled.
'The wench can drink!’ Ma Joong remarked with a happy grin to his companion, without taking his eyes off her. She had apparently noticed his stare, for now she turned round and looked him up and down insolently. He would have got up to start a conversation with this enchanting creature, but there was something about her that warned him to watch his step. She creased her long, curved eyebrows, tossed her head back, then turned to the hunchback again and said something to him. He grinned and took from under the counter a platter with salted vegetables. She picked up a pair of chopsticks and began to eat with gusto.
Ma Joong watched her for a while with undisguised delight. At last he asked his neighbour: 'Do you know her?'
The puppeteer twisted the end of his ragged grey moustache. 'Not as well as I'd like to,' he replied.
Ma Joong was about to make a jocular remark about old goats when suddenly raucous voices sounded in the street outside. The door burst open, and four ruffians came in.
'Four bowls of——' the one in front began. He halted, and stared at the girl, fingering his greasy ringbeard. He was so engrossed in her that he did not notice Ma Joong and the puppeteer, at the other end of the taproom. A lopsided grin curled his cruel mouth. 'Yes, we'll have four large bowls of strong wine!' he barked at the others. And then this fine strapping wench! Come on, brothers!'
They crowded round the girl. The bearded man laid his hairy hand on her arm. 'You are damned lucky tonight!' he said, leering at her. 'You'll have four lovers, dearie. Four good men!’
She put her cup down on the counter. Looking at the hand on her left arm, she said quietly:
'Take that dirty paw off me.'
The four men guffawed.
'Let's first beat her up a bit,' a burly fellow shouted. 'That'll make the meat tender!'
Ma Joong jumped up. He'd show those bastards! But the puppeteer's foot shot out, neatly tripping him up. Ma Joong fell on his face between two tables, crushing a chair. His helmet came off, and when he wanted to get to his feet he hit his head hard against a corner of the table. He went down again, and remained sitting on the floor one brief moment, half dazed. He heard a man yell, 'My arm ... The bloody witch!’ There followed a stream of foul curses. The door was slammed shut with a crash that made the plaster come down from the rafters. Then complete silence.