The Chinese Maze Murders (32 page)

“This,” he said, “is a map of the maze. Look, the course of the winding path forms four stylized characters in archaic script: ‘Bowers of Empty Illusion’. That is the same motto as we found inscribed on the landscape picture! This was the keynote of the old Governor’s thoughts after he had resigned from official life. Empty illusion!”

“The short cut is also indicated here!” Tao Gan said eagerly. “The location of the pine trees is shown by dots!”

Judge Dee again peered at the map. He traced the design with his forefinger.

“What an ingenious maze this is!” he exclaimed. “Look, if one enters by the regular entrance and always turns right at every fork, one will arrive at the exit after having gone through the entire maze. And if, conversely, one enters by the exit, the same will happen if one always takes the left
turn. But unless one knows the secret short cut, one will never discover this hidden pavilion!”

“We must obtain permission from Mrs. Yoo to have this maze cleaned, Your Honour,” the sergeant remarked. “Then it will become one of the famous sights of this district, just like the pagoda in the lotus lake!”

At that moment Headman Fang came in.

“Whoever was here left again before we came, Your Honour!” he reported. “We searched all through the undergrowth, but found nothing.”

“Let your men also examine the trunks of the trees and look among the branches,” Judge Dee ordered. “Our unknown sightseeer may have hidden himself up there!”

As the headman went out again, Judge Dee looked curiously at Tao Gan. Tao Gan had squatted on the broad bench and was peering intently at the layer of dirt covering it.

Shaking his head he said:

“If I did not know better, Your Honour, I would say that this dark spot here looks uncommonly like blood!”

Judge Dee felt a cold fear grip his heart.

He quickly stepped forward and rubbed his fingers over the spot Tao Gan indicated. He went to the window and looked at his hand. He saw dark red smears.

Turning round to Ma Joong the judge ordered curtly:

“Look under that marble bench!”

Ma Joong poked his spear in the dark cavity underneath. A large toad came hopping out.

He went down on his knees and peered under the bench.

“There is nothing but cobwebs and dirt!” he reported.

In the meantime Tao Gan had looked in the empty space behind. He turned round with a pale face.

“There is a body lying behind the bench!” he said in a trembling voice.

Ma Joong jumped on the bench. Together they pulled up the mutilated body of a girl. She was completely naked and covered with dried blood and mud. Where the head had been, there was only the ragged stump of the neck.

They laid their gruesome find on the bench. Ma Joong loosened his neckcloth and covered up the loins. Then he stood back, his eyes wide with horror.

Judge Dee bent over the remains of what once must have been a shapely young girl. He noticed the ugly knife wound under the left breast and some badly healed scars on the arms. Slowly he turned the body over. The shoulders and hips were marked by thin welts.

As he straightened himself his eyes blazed with anger. He said in a tense voice:

“This girl was killed here only yesterday. The body is quite stiff, but no decay has set in.”

“How did she come here?” Ma Joong asked aghast. “She must have been naked already when she crossed the maze! Look, the thorns scratched her thighs and her legs are covered with mud from the pool. It is she who slipped on one of the stepping stones and when trying to steady herself broke that branch!”

“The main problem is who brought her here!” said the judge curtly. “Call Headman Fang!”

As the headman entered the judge ordered:

“Roll this body in your gown, Headman. Order the constables to cut a few tall branches to make a stretcher!”

The headman took off his upper gown and bent over the bench.

Suddenly he uttered a hoarse cry. He was staring with bulging eyes at the mutilated body.

“This is White Orchid!” he said in a strangled voice.

Everyone exclaimed at once.

Judge Dee raised his hand.

“Are you quite certain, Headman?” he asked quietly.

“Once when she was only seven years old,” the headman sobbed, “she fell over a kettle with boiling water and scalded her left arm. Do you imagine I am not familiar with that scar?”

He pointed to a white scar that marred the beauty of the shapely arm. Then he threw himself over the body sobbing as if his heart would break.

Jude Dee folded his arms in his wide sleeves. Knitting his thick eyebrows he remained for a while in deep thought.

Suddenly the judge asked Sergeant Hoong:

“Sergeant, did you find out where Mrs. Lee lives?”

The sergeant silently pointed to the prone figure of Headman Fang.

Judge Dee laid his hand on the headman’s shoulder.

“Where is the house of Mrs. Lee?” he asked tensely.

Without looking up the headman answered:

“This morning I told Dark Orchid to go and find out.”

Judge Dee turned round quick as lightning. He pulled Ma Joong close to him by his sleeve and whispered something in his ear.

Ma Joong rushed out of the pavilion without another word.

Twenty fourth Chapter

A YOUNG GIRL GOES TO VISIT A FAMOUS ARTIST; A CRIMINAL IS CAUGHT IN AN UNEXPECTED PLACE

T
HAT
morning Dark Orchid had left the tribunal to go and find out Mrs. Lee’s address as her father had ordered her.

She walked at a brisk pace along the main street leading to the eastern city gate. She had been worrying for days about her elder sister. She hoped that the walk would help to clear her thoughts.

She loitered for half an hour or so among the stalls of the street venders on the crossing, then she went on to the shopping centre near the East Gate. Her father had told her that Mrs. Lee was an artist, so Dark Orchid entered the first shop of paper and brushes she saw.

The owner knew Mrs. Lee. He said that for many years she had been a regular customer. She was still alive, he put her age at about fifty. He added that Dark Orchid could save herself the trouble of going to Mrs. Lee’s house because for the last month or so she had not taken on any new girl students.

Dark Orchid replied that she only wished to see Mrs. Lee about a distant relative. The owner of the shop explained to her how she could find the house. It was only a few streets away.

Dark Orchid reflected that she could now return to the tribunal and report to her father. But the sun was shining, she felt loath to go back so soon. She decided to walk to the address indicated and have a look at Mrs. Lee’s house.

It was located in a quiet, middle-class neighbourhood. As she looked at the well-kept houses with neat black-lacquered frontdoors, Dark Orchid thought that this probably was a quarter favoured by well-to-do retired shopkeepers.

About halfway down the street she found the name ‘Lee’ on the gate of a fair sized house.

Standing in front of the door studded with copper nails, Dark Orchid could not resist the temptation to knock.

There was no answer. This excited the girl’s curiosity and made her all the more determined to have a peep inside. She knocked again as loudly as she could. Then she put her ear against the door.

She heard the faint sounds of snuffing footsteps.

As she knocked once more the gate opened. A quietly-dressed middle-aged woman stood in the gateway, supporting herself on a silvertopped cane. She looked Dark Orchid up and down and asked coldly:

“Why do you knock on my door, young woman?”

Dark Orchid knew from the lady’s dress and manner that she must be Mrs. Lee herself. She bowed deeply and said respectfully:

“My name is Dark Orchid, I am the daughter of Blacksmith Fang. I am trying to find a teacher who will deign to give guidance to my poor efforts at painting, and a paper shop directed me here. I made bold to come and pay my respects to you, Madam, although the shopkeeper informed me that you do not accept students any longer.”

The elder woman gave Dark Orchid a thoughtful look. Suddenly she smiled and said:

“It is quite true that I do not accept students any more. But since you went to all the trouble to call on me, please come in and have a cup of tea!”

Dark Orchid bowed once more. She followed Mrs. Lee
as she limped across a small but well-kept garden to what evidently was the main room of the house.

While Mrs. Lee went away to fetch boiling water Dark Orchid looked round admiring the elegant surroundings.

The room was not large but scrupulously clean and furnished in excellent taste. The bench on which she was sitting was of rosewood, covered with pillows of embroidered silk. The carved chairs and dainty small tea-tables were also of rosewood. On a high table against the back wall a thin cloud of incense curled up from an antique bronze burner. Over it hung a long, narrow scroll picture portraying birds and flowers. The lattice window was pasted over with spotless white paper.

Mrs. Lee came back with a copper kettle.

She poured the boiling water in a tea pot of exquisite painted porcelain, and then she sat down on the other corner of the bench.

Over a cup of fragrant tea they exchanged the usual polite enquiries.

Dark Orchid thought that despite her slight limp Mrs. Lee must have been a handsome woman when she was young. Her face was regular although her features were somewhat heavy and her eyebrows thicker than is thought beautiful for a woman. She evidently enjoyed talking with the girl. Dark Orchid felt quite flattered.

It struck the girl as curious that there seemed to be no servants in the house. When she asked about this Mrs. Lee replied quickly:

“My house is rather small, I keep only one old woman who does the rough work for me. I am a bit peculiar in this respect, I hate to have a crowd of servants around me all the time. A few days ago she became ill, I sent her home to her husband. He is an old street vender who lives round the corner. In his spare time he looks after my garden.”

Dark Orchid hastily apologized once more for her intrusion which must be all the more vexing since Mrs. Lee’s maid was away. She rose to take her leave.

Mrs. Lee immediately protested. She said that she enjoyed a little company and quickly poured another cup of tea.

Presently she took Dark Orchid to an outhouse. Nearly all the floor space was taken up by a huge, red-lacquered table. On shelves against the wall there stood half a dozen brush holders with brushes of all kinds and sizes, and small jars containing various pigments. Rolls of paper and silk were stacked in an open porcelain jar on the floor. The window opened on a miniature garden thick with flowering plants.

Mrs. Lee made Dark Orchid sit down on a tabouret by the side of the table and started to show her paintings. As Mrs. Lee unrolled scroll after scroll, even Dark Orchid, who did not know much about painting, could see that her hostess was an accomplished artist. She did nothing but flowers, fruit and birds, but everything was drawn with astonishing accuracy and delicately coloured.

Dark Orchid felt greatly embarrassed by Mrs. Lee’s kindness. She wondered whether she should not tell her that she had come only because the tribunal had ordered her to do so. Then she reflected that she did not know whether the judge wished this to be kept secret or not. Thus she thought she had better continue playing her role and take her leave as soon as a suitable opportunity arose.

When Mrs. Lee was rolling her pictures up again Dark Orchid rose and looked out of the window. She remarked casually on a few plants that were trampled down.

“That happened the other day when those yokels from the tribunal came to search this neighbourhood!” Mrs. Lee answered venomously. There was so much hatred in her voice that Dark Orchid turned round and gave her an
astonished look. But Mrs. Lee’s face was placid as ever.

Dark Orchid bowed and started on the polite phrases of thanks.

Mrs. Lee leaned out of the window and looked at the sun.

“Well, well!” she exclaimed, “who would have thought that it is past noon already! And now I must prepare my meal. How I hate that work! Here, you look a very capable young girl, I suppose it would be impertinent to ask you to lend me a hand?”

This was a request that Dark Orchid could not refuse without being intolerably rude. At the same time she thought that she could at least redeem her imposture a little by preparing a good meal for her kind hostess. She replied quickly:

“This person is extremely awkward in all things, but allow me at least to kindle the kitchen fire for you!”

Mrs. Lee looked pleased. She took Dark Orchid across the rear courtyard to the kitchen.

The girl took off her upper gown and bound up her sleeves. Then she rekindled the fire from the glowing embers. Mrs. Lee sat down on the low kitchen bench and started a long story about her husband who had died suddenly shortly after their wedding.

Dark Orchid found a bamboo box with noodles. She chopped a few onions and garlic, and took a dozen dried mushrooms from the string hanging outside the window.

While Mrs. Lee talked on, Dark Orchid put fat in the fryingpan and added the chopped vegetables and soy, stirring with the long iron spoon. At the right moment she put the noodles in the pan. Soon an appetizing smell filled the small kitchen.

Mrs. Lee fetched bowls, chopsticks and a platter with pickled vegetables. They sat down on the kitchen bench to eat.

Dark Orchid had a healthy appetite but Mrs. Lee ate very little. She put her bowl down when it was still half full. She laid her hand on the girl’s knee and complimented her on her cooking. As Dark Orchid looked up from her bowl she surprised a look in Mrs. Lee’s eyes that made her curiously uncomfortable. She reasoned with herself that it was ridiculous to be shy before another woman. But somehow or other she felt ill at ease. Imperceptibly she edged away a little.

Mrs. Lee rose. She came back with a pewter jug and two small cups.

“Let us have one cup to aid the digestion!” she said with a smile.