Murder in Canton

ROBERT VAN GULIK Murder in Canton

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

It should be noted that in China the surname — here printed in capitals — precedes the personal name

Main characters

DEE Jen-djieh  President of the Metropolitan Court, in this novel visiting Canton in the summer of 680 A.D.

CHIAO Tai  a colonel of the Imperial Guard

TAO Gan  Chief Secretary of the Court

Persons connected with the Case of the Imperial Censor

WENG Kien  Governor of Canton and the Southern Region

PAO Kwan  Prefect of Canton

LEW Tao-ming  Imperial Censor

Dr SOO  his adviser

Persons connected with the Case of the Smaragdine Dancer

Zumurrud  an Arab dancing girl

Mansur  leader of the Arab community in Canton

LIANG Foo  a famous financier

YAU Tai-kai  a wealthy merchant

Persons connected with the Case of the Secret Lovers

Lan-lee  a blind girl

NEE  a sea captain

Dunyazad, Dananir  slave-girls

I

The two men standing at the corner of the custom-house silently watched the long, dreary waterfront. The elder's thin, angular frame was wrapped from head to feet in an old goatskin caftan. The other, a burly, handsome man in his late forties, was clad in a patched brown gown and jacket. While they were standing there, the hot, clammy mist changed into a warm drizzle that wetted the worn velvet of their black caps. The still air was very close, for although it was late in the afternoon already, there was no sign yet of a cooling evening breeze.

A dozen bare-backed coolies were unloading the foreign ship moored a little further on alongside the river quay, opposite the arched gate of the custom-house. Bent under heavy bales, they trudged down the gangway to the measure of a mournful catch-song. The four guards at the gate had pushed their spiked helmets back from their perspiring brows. Leaning heavily on their long halberds, they followed the work with bored eyes.

'Look! There goes the ship we came down the river on this morning!' the elderly man exclaimed. He pointed to the dark mass that came looming up out of the mist, beyond the masts of the other craft moored next to the foreign ship. The black war junk was being rowed with great speed to the estuary of the Pearl River, its brass gongs clanging to warn off the small boats of the river hawkers.

'Weather permitting, they'll be in Annam soon!' his broad-shouldered companion said gruffly. 'There's bound to be a lot of good fighting down there. But you and I have to stay behind in this god-forsaken city, with orders to assess the situation! Hell, there's another drop running down my neck. As if this blasted humid heat isn't making me sweat enough already!'

He pulled the collar of his jacket closer round his thick boxer's neck, at the same time taking good care to conceal the coat of mail he was wearing underneath, with the golden badge of a colonel of the Imperial Guard, a round plaque consisting of two intertwined dragons. Then he asked testily, 'Do you know what it's all about, brother Tao?'

The lean man sadly shook his grey head. Tugging at the three long hairs that sprouted from the wart on his cheek, he replied slowly:

'Our boss didn't tell me a thing, brother Chiao. Must be important, though. Else he wouldn't have left the capital so suddenly, and rushed down here with us, first on horseback, then on that fast war junk. There must be trouble brewing here in Canton. Ever since our arrival this morning, I have...'

He was interrupted by a loud splash. Two coolies had let a bale drop into the muddy strip of water between the ship and the quay. A white-turbaned figure jumped down from the deck and began to kick the coolies, shouting at them in a foreign tongue. The bored custom-guards suddenly came to life. One stepped forward and with a quick swing of his halberd let its flat side thud down on the shoulders of the cursing Arab.

'Keep off our men, you son of a dog!' the guard shouted. 'You are in China here, remember!'

The Arab gripped the hilt of the dagger in his red belt. A dozen white-gowned men jumped from the ship, and drew their long curved swords. As the coolies let their bales drop and scurried away, the four guards levelled their halberds at the cursing sailors. Suddenly iron boots resounded on the cobblestones. Twenty soldiers came marching through the gate of the custom-house. With the ease of long practice they surrounded the angry Arabs and herded them at spearpoint back towards the edge of the quay. A tall thin Arab with a beaked nose leaned over the railing of the ship, and began to harangue the sailors in a strident voice. They sheathed their swords and climbed on board again. The coolies resumed their work as if nothing had happened.

'About how many of those insolent bastards would there be in this city?' the colonel asked.

'Well, we counted four ships in port, didn't we? And two more are lying in the estuary, outward bound. Add the Arabs who've settled down ashore, and you get a couple of thousand, I'd say. And that wretched inn of yours is smack in the middle of the Moslem quarter! A fine place for getting a knife in your back at night! My hostel is nothing to crow about either, but being right outside the south gate, the guards are at least within calling distance.'

'What room have you got there?'

'The one on the corner of the second floor, which gives me a good view of the quay and the wharves, as per orders. Well, don't you think we've been hanging about here long enough? The drizzle is getting worse. Let's go and sample the stuff over there.'

He pointed to the end of the quay where a shadowy figure was lighting the red lantern of a wine-house.

'I certainly could use some!' Chiao Tai muttered. 'Never saw such a dismal place! And I can't speak the language either.'

Hurrying over the slippery cobblestones, they did not notice a shabbily dressed, bearded man, who now left the shelter of the godown further along the quay and followed them.

Arriving at the end of the quay, Chiao Tai saw that the bridge across the moat by the Kuei-te city gate was crowded with people. Clad in straw raincoats, they bustled along, each intent on his own business.

'Nobody takes time off for a bit of loitering here,' he grumbled.

'That's why they could make Canton the wealthiest port city of the south!' Tao Gan remarked. 'Here we are!'

He pulled the patched door-curtain aside and they entered a dim, cavernous taproom. They were met by the smell of stale garlic and salted fish. The smoking oil lamps dangling from the low rafters threw their uncertain light on a few score guests, huddling in groups of four or five round small tables. They were busily talking in undertones. No one seemed to pay the slightest attention to the two newcomers.

When the two men were seating themselves at an empty table near the window, the bearded man who had been following them came in. He went straight to the rear, to a worn wooden counter where the innkeeper was heating pewter winejugs in a basin of boiling water.

Tao Gan told the waiter in good Cantonese to bring them two large jugs. While they were waiting, Chiao Tai put his elbows on the greasy table top and glumly surveyed the guests.