"It is true," Kuo said, "that he was very clever with that board. When he came to our house he often amused me and my wife by making all kinds of figures at a moment's notice."
"I fail to see," Judge Dee said, "what this figure could have been meant to be."
"Master Lan was wonderfully kind, Your Honor," the hunchback went on pensively. "He knew that ruffians in the market often pushed and humiliated me. So he went to the trouble to work out a new fighting system especially for me, adapted to the fact that I have weak legs but rather strong arms. Then he patiently taught me that system, and since then no one has dared to bother me any more."
Judge Dee had not heard Kuo's last words. Playing with the seven pieces of cardboard, he suddenly saw that he had made the figure of a cat.
Quickly he shuffled the pieces again. The poison used, the jasmine flower, the cat ... he refused to follow this line of logic. Noticing Kuo's astonished look he said hurriedly to cover up his consternation:
"Yes, I suddenly thought of a queer meeting I had last night. I brought home a small girl that had become lost, but her mother just reviled me. It was a widow, a most unpleasant person. From the innocent patter of the child I gathered that she must have a secret lover."
"What was her name?" Kuo asked curiously.
"She is a Mrs. Loo, and runs a cotton shop."
Kuo sat stiffly erect. He exclaimed:
"That is a nasty woman, Your Honor. I had some dealings with her five months ago, when her husband had died. That was a queer affair."
The judge was still confused by the discovery of the cat. And Master Lan visited the pharmacy often, he reflected. He asked absent-mindedly:
"What was queer about the death of that cotton merchant?"
Kuo hesitated before he replied:
"The matter was really treated a little cursorily by Your Honor's predecessor. But just at that time there had been an attack of the Tartar hordes on the Northern Army, and crowds of refugees came pouring into the city. The magistrate had his hands full and I can well understand that he did not want to spend much time on a cotton merchant who died from a heart attack."
"Why should he?" Judge Dee asked, grateful for the diversion. "The autopsy would have shown any suspicious features."
The hunchback looked unhappy.
"The trouble is, Your Honor," he said, "that there was no autopsy!"
The judge was all attention now. Leaning back in his chair he said curtly:
"Tell me the facts."
"Late in the afternoon," Kuo began, "Mrs. Loo came to the tribunal together with Dr. Kwang, a well-known physician here. The doctor stated that at the noon meal Loo Ming had complained of a headache, and had lain down on his bed. Shortly after, his wife heard him groaning. When she entered the bedroom, he was dead. She called Dr. Kwang, and he examined the corpse. She told him that her husband had often complained about his weak heart. Dr. Kwang inquired what he had eaten at noon, and his wife said he had taken very little food, but drunk two jugs of wine in order to get rid of his headache. Dr. Kwang thereupon signed a certificate stating that Loo Ming had died from a heart attack, occasioned by overindulgence in alcohol. Your Honor's predecessor registered the death as such."
As Judge Dee remained silent, the hunchback went on: "Now I happen to know Loo Ming's brother, and he told me that when he assisted in dressing the corpse, he noticed that the face was not discolored, but that the eyes were bulging from their sockets. Since those symptoms point to a blow on the back of the head, I went to Mrs. Loo asking for more particulars. But she shouted at me and cursed me for an interfering busybody. Then I took the liberty to speak about it to the magistrate, but he said he was satisfied with Dr. Kwang's statement, and that he saw no reason for an autopsy. And there the matter ended." "Didn't you speak to Dr. Kwang?" Judge Dee inquired. "I made several attempts, but he avoided me," Kuo answered. "Then there were rumors that Dr. Kwang meddled with black magic. He left the city with the stream of refugees heading south, and no one has ever heard from him again." The judge slowly stroked his beard.
"That certainly is a curious story!" he said at last. "Are there still some people here who practice sorcery? You know that according to the law that is a capital offense."
Kuo shrugged his shoulders.
"Many families here in Pei-chow," he said, "have Tartar blood, and imagine that they possess the secret tradition of the Tartar sorcerers. Some maintain that those people can kill other men just by reciting incantations, or by burning or cutting off the head of a picture of them. Others are said to know also the secret Taoist rites and to be able to prolong their life by having witches or goblins as lovers. In my opinion all this is nothing but barbarian superstition, but Master Lan had made quite a study of it and he told me that there was a basis of truth in their allegations."
"Our Master Confucius," Judge Dee said impatiently, "expressly warned us not to dabble in those dark arcana. I would never have thought that a wise man like Lan Tao-kuei wasted time on those weird pursuits."
"He was a man of wide interests, Your Honor," the hunchback said diffidently.
"Well," the judge pursued, "I am glad you told me that story about Mrs. Loo. I think I'll summon her and ask for more details about the death of her husband."
Judge Dee took up a paper and Kuo hastily bowed and left.
Twelfth Chapter
As soon as the door had closed behind the coroner, Judge Dee threw the document down on his desk. Folding his arms he sat there, trying in vain to sort out the confused thoughts that were turning around in his mind.
At last he rose and changed into his hunting dress. A little exercise would perhaps help to clear his brain. He told the groom to bring his favorite horse, and rode out.
First he galloped a few times around the old drill ground. Then he entered the main street, and left the city by the North Gate. He made his horse step slowly through the snow to where the road went down the hill into the vast, white plain. He saw that the sky was leaden, it looked like another snowfall.
On the right two large stones marked the beginning of the narrow path that led up the crag known as Medicine Hill. The judge decided to climb up there, and go home after that exercise. He rode up the path to where it became a steep ascent, then dismounted. He patted his horse on its neck, and tied the reins to the stump of a tree.
About to begin the climb he suddenly halted. There were fresh marks of small feet in the snow. He debated with himself whether he should go on. Finally he shrugged his shoulders, and began the ascent.
The top of the crag was bare but for one tree, a winter plum. Its black branches were covered with small red buds. Near the wooden balustrade at the other end a woman clad in a gray fur coat was digging in the snow with a small trowel. As she heard the crunching of the snow under Judge Dee's heavy boots, she righted herself. She quickly put the trowel in the basket at her feet, and bowed deeply.
"I see," the judge said, "that you are gathering the Moon Herb."
Mrs. Kuo nodded. The fur hood set off her delicate face admirably.
"I have not been very lucky, Your Honor," she said with a smile, "I have only gathered this much!" She pointed to the bundle of plants in the basket.
"I came up here for a little exercise," Judge Dee said. "I wanted to clear my thoughts, for the murder of Master Lan is weighing heavily on my mind."