Robert Gulik - The Chinese LakeMurders

A Chinese detective story suggested by original ancient Chinese plots

With twelve plates drawn by the author in Chinese style

The Chinese Lake Murders describes how Judge Dee solved three difficult cases in a.d. 666, shortly after he had been appointed magistrate of Han-yuan.

Han-yuan was a small old town, only sixty miles northwest of the imperial capital; but hidden among high mountains, it had always remained an isolated place and few people from outside had settled there. It lay on the shore of a mountain lake, the mysterious lake of Han-yuan, about which since olden times people told strange stories. The bodies of persons drowned there were never found, but their ghosts were said to have been seen walking among the living. At the same time, however, the lake was famous for its "flower boats," floating houses of assignation where the guests could feast with beautiful courtesans and stay overnight on the water.

In this strange old town Judge Dee is confronted with a cruel murder. Just when his investigation of that crime is getting under way, he is faced with two new baffling puzzles, and soon he finds himself in a maze of political intrigue, sordid greed and dark, forbidden passion.

At the beginning of this volume the reader will find a view of Han-yuan, and at the end a picture of the flower boat. The latter plate, and also the plan of that boat reproduced on page 35, were kindly drawn for me by my friend Hilary Waddington, former Superintendent of Monuments of the Archaeological Service, New Delhi, India.

The Postscript gives a brief description of the ancient Chinese judicial system, a few remarks about special subjects occurring in the present novel, and references to Chinese sources.

Robert van Gulik

It should be noted that in Chinese the surname-here printed in capitals-precedes the personal name.

Main characters

DEE Jen-djieh, Magistrate of Han-yuan, a small mountain district sixty miles west of the capital. Referred to as "Judge Dee," or "the judge."

HOONG Liang, Judge Dee's trusted adviser and sergeant of the tribunal. Referred to as "Sergeant Hoong," or "the sergeant."

MA Joong, first lieutenant of Judge Dee.

CHIAO Tai, second lieutenant of Judge Dee.

TAO Gan, third lieutenant of Judge Dee, enters in Chapter Twelve.

Persons connected with "The Case of the Drowned Courtesan"

HAN Yung-han, wealthy landowner, leading citizen of Han-yuan.

Willow Down, his daughter.

* Almond Blossom

* Anemone

* Peach Blossom

(* courtesans of the Willow Quarter in Han-yuan.)

WANG, master of the Goldsmiths' Guild.

PENG, master of the Silversmiths' Guild.

SOO, master of the Jadeworkers' Guild.

KANG Po, a wealthy silk merchant. KANG Choong, his younger brother.

Persons connected with "The Case of the Vanished Bride"

DJANG Wen-djang, a Doctor of Literature.

DJANG Hoo-piao, his son, a Candidate of Literature.

LIU Fei-po, a wealthy merchant from the capital.

Moon Fairy, his daughter.

KOONG, a tea merchant, neighbor of Dr. Djang.

MAO Yuan, a carpenter.

MAO Loo, his cousin.

Persons connected with "The Case of the Spendthrift Councilor"

LIANG Meng-kwang, Imperial Councilor, living retired in Han-yuan.

LIANG Fen, his nephew who acts as his secretary.

WAN I-fan, a promoter.

Others

MENG Kee, Grand Inquisitor.

No ONE, I TRUST, WILL CALL TWENTY YEARS OF SERVING OUR ILLUSTRIOUS Ming Emperor a poor record. My late father, it is true, served fifty years, and when he died a Councilor of State, he had just celebrated his seventieth birthday. I shall be forty, three days hence- but may Heaven grant that I shan't be then still alive.

In the ever rarer moments that my tortured brain is clear, I let my thoughts go back to the years that have passed, the only escape now left. Four years ago I was promoted to Investigator of the Metropolitan Court, a signal honor for an official of only thirty-five. People predicted a great future for me. How proud I was of this large mansion assigned to me, and how I loved to walk in the beautiful garden, hand in hand with my daughter! How small she was then, only a child, but she knew already the literary names of every flower I pointed at. Four years-but how long ago that seems now. Like memories from a previous existence.

Now you, threatening shadow, again press close to me; shrinking in terror, I must obey you. Do you grudge me even this brief respite? Didn't I do all you ordered me to do? Didn't I last month, after my return from that fey old city of Han-yuan by its sinister lake, choose at once an auspicious date for my daughter's wedding; and wasn't she married last week? What do you say now? My senses are numbed by the unbearable pain; I can't hear you well. You say that that my daughter must learn the truth? Almighty Heaven, have you no pity? That knowledge shall break her heart, destroy her No, don't hurt me, please. I shall do as you say, only don't hurt me Yes, I shall write.

Write, as every sleepless night I write, with you, inexorable executioner, standing over me. The others can't see you, you say. But isn't it true that when a man has been touched by death, others can see its mark on him? Every time I come upon one of my wives or concubines in the now deserted corridors, she quickly averts her face. When I look up from my papers in the office, I often catch my clerks staring at me. As they hurriedly bend again over their documents, I know that they covertly clasp the amulets they have taken to wearing of late. They must feel that after I had come back from my visit to Han-yuan I was not merely very ill. A sick man is pitied; a man possessed is shunned.

They do not understand. They need only pity me. As one pities a man condemned to the inhuman punishment of inflicting on himself with his own hand the lingering death: being forced by the executioner to cut away his own flesh, piece by piece. Every letter I wrote, every coded message I sent out these last days cut away a slice of my living flesh. Thus the threads of the ingenious web I had been weaving patiently over the entire Empire were cut, one by one. Every thread cut stands for a crushed hope, a thwarted illusion, a wasted dream. Now all traces have been wept out; no one shall ever know. I even presume that the Imperial Gazette shall print an obituary, mourning me as a promising young official who met an untimely death by a lingering disease. Lingering, indeed, lingering till now there is nothing left of me but this bloodstained carcass.

This is the moment that the executioner plunges his long knife in the tortured criminal's heart, giving him the merciful deathblow. Why, then, do you, fearful shadow, insist on prolonging my agony, you who call yourself by the name of a flower? Why do you want to tear my heart to pieces, by forcing me to kill the soul of my poor daughter? She never committed any crime, she never knew Yes, I hear you, terrible woman; you say that I still must write, write down everything, so that my daughter shall know. Tell her how Heaven denied me a quick, self-chosen end, and condemned me to a slow death of agony in your cruel hands. And that after having granted me one brief glance of what could have been.