‘Hurry up!’ he told her and began to scrub his muddy boots with unnecessary vigour.
He took his time cleaning them. When he had put them on again and got up, she was dressed, and busy pulling the boat from under the pine tree. The judge stepped inside, and she poled the boat towards the mouth of the cove. Taking up the sculling oar, she cast a forlorn look at the silvery pine trees and said, in a small voice:
‘I am sorry, sir. I behaved like a silly girl. But the fact is that I like you, and I had hoped you would take me with you to the capital.’
He leaned back in the bow. The empty feeling in his head had gone; he was only tired now, very tired. After a while he said:
‘You like me only because I remind you of the happy, sheltered life at home with your father, Fern. Since I like you too, I want to see you happy with some nice young fellow. But I shall always remember you. And certainly not only because you were such a loyal helpmate.’
JUDGE DEE SCRUBS HIS BOOT WITH UNNECESSARY VIGOUR
She gave him a warm smile. ‘Did you find what you were looking for, sir?’
‘Yes and no. Tomorrow I hope to be able to tell you more.’ Folding his arms, Judge Dee reviewed his conversation with Lady Hydrangea. Only after he had digested all the disquieting new data would he try to think of ways and means of tracing the necklace. He felt certain the cashier had hidden it somewhere in or near the Kingfisher. Else he wouldn’t have gone back there and risked a meeting with Lang’s men. Tai Min had known that sooner or later Lang Liu and his men would leave again for the south, and that would be his chance to come back from Ten Miles Village and get the necklace.
The quay was just as deserted as when they had left, but now the moonlight cast weird shadows on the cobble-stones. ‘I shall walk ahead,’ he told her. ‘At the first sign of trouble, slip into a portico or a side-street.’
But they reached the alley at the back of the Kingfisher without meeting anyone. Slipping inside by the kitchen door, the judge suddenly realized that he was ravenously hungry. ‘Have you had your evening rice?’ he asked. When Fern nodded, he grabbed a wooden pail with cold rice from the kitchen dresser, and a platter of sour plums. ‘On account!’ he muttered. Fern suppressed a giggle. Crossing the hall, they heard the clatter of arms in the portico. The guardsmen were on duty. On tiptoe they went upstairs and parted in front of his door.
Judge Dee lit the candle, and changed into a clean night-robe. He found to his satisfaction that the tea in the padded basket was still warm. Having taken the armchair by the table, he changed the plaster on his forearm. Then, using the wooden lid of the rice-pail as a plate, he kneaded the cold rice and sour plums into balls. He ate this simple soldier’s meal with relish, washing it down with several cups of tea. Having thus fortified himself, he took the calabash from the wall-table and reclined on his bed, his shoulders on the propped-up pillow. Tying and untying the red tassel of the calabash, he marshalled his thoughts.
The scheme of the necklace had now been revealed in its revolting detail. The plotters in the palace wanted to incriminate Colonel Kang, so as to eliminate him as future Imperial son-in-law, and so as to bring the Third Princess to the desired unstable emotional state when leaving for the capital. The Lady Hydrangea had mentioned the Chief Eunuch and the Superintendent as possibly being involved in the scheme. But there was a third ranking official, namely Colonel Kang. And about him he knew really very little -only that the Princess was in love with him, and that Captain Siew admired him. But both the Princess and the captain were biased. The plotters in the palace had suggested that the colonel had a mistress somewhere. At first sight it looked like malicious slander. On the other hand one should not forget that his accusers were expert schemers who, as a rule, avoid creating something out of nothing. They would rather give a twist to actual happenings, distort a statement by changing a few words or by shifting the emphasis. Therefore he should not rule out the possibility that the colonel actually did have a lady friend somewhere. The fact that the colonel had not stolen the necklace did not prove that he was not indirectly involved.
Utilizing a scheme of the enemy to one’s own advantage was a stratagem taught in all military handbooks. And the colonel had been with the Princess on that fateful night. Probably they had been standing together at the window of the pavilion, and the Princess had laid the necklace on the side-table before they went through the moon-door to the adjoining room. So that Tai Min had only to stick his hand through the window to grab it. What if there had been collusion between the colonel and the cashier?
It was very hard to say what group in the palace was making the attempts at eliminating him, the judge. The men sent by the Lady Hydrangea to fetch him from the Kingfisher had worn the black livery of the Chief Eunuch’s office, but so had the other men who had put him down in the forest to be murdered. The men who had tried to arrest him had worn the dress of agents of the Superintendent. All this meant nothing, for they could have been hired by someone in the palace who was not their direct superior. Including Colonel Kang.
It would, of course, be impossible to trace the mysterious Mr Hao. The one and only clue pointing directly at the plotters was the diversion created in the palace grounds on the night of the theft. He would have to bear that point in mind if and when he ever got round to conducting an official investigation in the palace, on the basis of the special powers granted to him by the Imperial edict.
He clasped his hands round the calabash. These considerations did not shed any light on the crucial problem, namely what Tai Min had done after he had stolen the necklace, and before he had been caught on the road east by Lang’s men. He ought to begin all over again, starting with the cashier’s motive. Dejected after the discovery of Lang’s murder he, the judge, had felt that his theory about Tai Min’s motive had been all wrong, because Mrs Wei had not gone to Ten Miles Village after all. Now, on second thoughts, he believed his theory had been essentially correct. Fern had said that Tai Min harboured a deep affection for Mrs Wei, and although he, the judge, questioned her appraisal of Mrs Wei’s character, he was convinced Fern was right about Tai Min, a youngster of her own age. The cashier must have come to know that Mrs Wei was contemplating leaving her miserly husband, and he would have told her that he, too, wanted to go away; and that if she went ahead to Ten Miles Village, he would join her there later and help her to settle down somewhere else. Tai Min was hoping that in due course he would be able to persuade her to set up a household with him, and for that he needed money. The silver Lang had promised him represented only a small sum, and Tai Min, being a shrewd youngster, had probably realized that Lang would cheat him anyway. Hence he decided to keep the necklace. Fern had described the cashier as a simple young man; he probably hadn’t realized all the implications of stealing an Imperial treasure but had taken the view, shared by many of the common people, that the Emperor was so rich he wouldn’t even notice.
That Mrs Wei had not gone to Ten Miles Village was also understandable. She had promised Tai Min to meet him there, but she had only wanted to humour him, to get rid of his attentions. In fact she had eloped with a third person, as yet unknown. A
third person who might have been known to Tai Min, and conceivably might have met him when the cashier came back from the palace. These points, however, were immaterial. For no matter who met Tai Min, the cashier had not handed over the necklace. For if he had, he would have mentioned that third person when tortured by Lang’s men. He had held out because he did have the necklace, and was hoping against hope to be able to survive and retrieve it.
Judge Dee lifted the calabash and looked at it intently. He remembered what Master Gourd had said about the importance of being empty. In order to discover where Tai Min had hidden the necklace, he would have to empty himself, and put himself in the cashier’s place. Become the cashier of the Kingfisher, and live his life. The judge closed his eyes.
He imagined himself on the high stool behind the counter in the hall downstairs. Badly paid by his miserl
y employer, he was sitting there every day from morning till night, his only distraction an occasional fishing trip on the river-a distraction to be indulged in only when business at the inn was slack. But there was a daily diversion, namely the sight of the adored Mrs Wei. The innkeeper’s wife must have been about in the hall a lot, for according to the owner of the Nine Clouds she took an active part in the running of the inn. The cashier would have snatched every opportunity to start a conversation with her. Not too often, for his employer would see to it that the youngster did not neglect his duties at the counter for long. Sorting out various bills and accounts, adding amounts with the aid of his abacus, and noting the total down in red ink on … Red ink!
Judge Dee opened his eyes. Here was a point worth noting. Tai Min had marked the route to Ten Miles Village in red ink. The map would be in one of the counter’s drawers, for it must be kept near at hand, for the convenience of the guests. And up in his attic Tai Min wouldn’t have had a cake of red ink, nor the special ink-slab for rubbing it. That meant he must have marked the map while sitting at the counter. By heaven, was that the answer? He sat up, put the calabash down on the bed, and pensively rubbed his neck. He decided to have a look for himself.
The judge went out in the corridor, carefully avoiding the creaking floorboard. The hall was dimly lit by a single lantern above the counter. The clerk had tidied up, leaving only the large ink-slab, a cake of black ink, and a tubular holder with a few writing-brushes. The judge found that the counter had two drawers to the right of the cashier’s high stool. He pulled the upper one out. It contained the inn’s register, a jar of the thick brown gum cashiers use for sticking bills together, a wooden stamp reading ‘payment received’ and the red seal-pad belonging to it, and a package of blank sheets and envelopes. He quickly opened the second drawer. Yes, next to the abacus lay a red ink-slab, and a small cake of red ink. Beside it were a water-container for moistening the slab and a red brush. Also a flat cash-box, empty of course-Mr Wei would never forget to empty it before retiring at night. But during the day the box might contain a fair amount of money. He went round the lattice screen. The large clothes-box he had seen Wei rummage about in was still standing on the floor, closed. He lifted the lid. It was completely empty. No robes. And no red jacket.
Judge Dee sat down in the armchair behind the innkeeper’s desk. Wei had placed it in a strategic position, for sitting there he could watch the hall through the open-work lattice screen, keep an eye on the counter and all who went in and out of his hostel. Yes, the problem of the marked map had now been solved.
There remained the final problem, namely where the necklace actually was now. He was convinced that the solution to this problem must be sought here in the Kingfisher, and within the small circle of the cashier’s dreary, everyday life. Again he imagined he was Tai Min, sitting on his high stool behind the counter, doing his work there under the watchful eye of Wei. He would offer the register to new guests for signing, and departing guests would ask him for their bill. Tai Min would then collect the various accounts relating to the room rent and other expenses incurred, add up the amounts due on his abacus, and write the total in red ink on the bill (which would eventually be stuck with brown gum to the day’s previous bills). After the guest had paid, the cashier would put the money in the cash-box in the second drawer, then stamp the bill ‘Payment received’, and… . Suddenly Judge Dee sat up straight. Gripping the armrests of the chair, he quickly went over all the facts in his mind. Yes, that was the solution, of course! He leaned back and smote his forehead. By heaven, he had made the most serious mistake a criminal investigator can ever make. He had overlooked the obvious!
JUDGE DEE SCRUBS HIS BOOT WITH UNNECESSARY VIGOUR
She gave him a warm smile. ‘Did you find what you were looking for, sir?’
‘Yes and no. Tomorrow I hope to be able to tell you more.’ Folding his arms, Judge Dee reviewed his conversation with Lady Hydrangea. Only after he had digested all the disquieting new data would he try to think of ways and means of tracing the necklace. He felt certain the cashier had hidden it somewhere in or near the Kingfisher. Else he wouldn’t have gone back there and risked a meeting with Lang’s men. Tai Min had known that sooner or later Lang Liu and his men would leave again for the south, and that would be his chance to come back from Ten Miles Village and get the necklace.
The quay was just as deserted as when they had left, but now the moonlight cast weird shadows on the cobble-stones. ‘I shall walk ahead,’ he told her. ‘At the first sign of trouble, slip into a portico or a side-street.’
But they reached the alley at the back of the Kingfisher without meeting anyone. Slipping inside by the kitchen door, the judge suddenly realized that he was ravenously hungry. ‘Have you had your evening rice?’ he asked. When Fern nodded, he grabbed a wooden pail with cold rice from the kitchen dresser, and a platter of sour plums. ‘On account!’ he muttered. Fern suppressed a giggle. Crossing the hall, they heard the clatter of arms in the portico. The guardsmen were on duty. On tiptoe they went upstairs and parted in front of his door.
Judge Dee lit the candle, and changed into a clean night-robe. He found to his satisfaction that the tea in the padded basket was still warm. Having taken the armchair by the table, he changed the plaster on his forearm. Then, using the wooden lid of the rice-pail as a plate, he kneaded the cold rice and sour plums into balls. He ate this simple soldier’s meal with relish, washing it down with several cups of tea. Having thus fortified himself, he took the calabash from the wall-table and reclined on his bed, his shoulders on the propped-up pillow. Tying and untying the red tassel of the calabash, he marshalled his thoughts.
The scheme of the necklace had now been revealed in its revolting detail. The plotters in the palace wanted to incriminate Colonel Kang, so as to eliminate him as future Imperial son-in-law, and so as to bring the Third Princess to the desired unstable emotional state when leaving for the capital. The Lady Hydrangea had mentioned the Chief Eunuch and the Superintendent as possibly being involved in the scheme. But there was a third ranking official, namely Colonel Kang. And about him he knew really very little -only that the Princess was in love with him, and that Captain Siew admired him. But both the Princess and the captain were biased. The plotters in the palace had suggested that the colonel had a mistress somewhere. At first sight it looked like malicious slander. On the other hand one should not forget that his accusers were expert schemers who, as a rule, avoid creating something out of nothing. They would rather give a twist to actual happenings, distort a statement by changing a few words or by shifting the emphasis. Therefore he should not rule out the possibility that the colonel actually did have a lady friend somewhere. The fact that the colonel had not stolen the necklace did not prove that he was not indirectly involved.
Utilizing a scheme of the enemy to one’s own advantage was a stratagem taught in all military handbooks. And the colonel had been with the Princess on that fateful night. Probably they had been standing together at the window of the pavilion, and the Princess had laid the necklace on the side-table before they went through the moon-door to the adjoining room. So that Tai Min had only to stick his hand through the window to grab it. What if there had been collusion between the colonel and the cashier?
It was very hard to say what group in the palace was making the attempts at eliminating him, the judge. The men sent by the Lady Hydrangea to fetch him from the Kingfisher had worn the black livery of the Chief Eunuch’s office, but so had the other men who had put him down in the forest to be murdered. The men who had tried to arrest him had worn the dress of agents of the Superintendent. All this meant nothing, for they could have been hired by someone in the palace who was not their direct superior. Including Colonel Kang.
It would, of course, be impossible to trace the mysterious Mr Hao. The one and only clue pointing directly at the plotters was the diversion created in the palace grounds on the night of the theft. He would have to bear that point in mind if and when he e
ver got round to conducting an official investigation in the palace, on the basis of the special powers granted to him by the Imperial edict.
He clasped his hands round the calabash. These considerations did not shed any light on the crucial problem, namely what Tai Min had done after he had stolen the necklace, and before he had been caught on the road east by Lang’s men. He ought to begin all over again, starting with the cashier’s motive. Dejected after the discovery of Lang’s murder he, the judge, had felt that his theory about Tai Min’s motive had been all wrong, because Mrs Wei had not gone to Ten Miles Village after all. Now, on second thoughts, he believed his theory had been essentially correct. Fern had said that Tai Min harboured a deep affection for Mrs Wei, and although he, the judge, questioned her appraisal of Mrs Wei’s character, he was convinced Fern was right about Tai Min, a youngster of her own age. The cashier must have come to know that Mrs Wei was contemplating leaving her miserly husband, and he would have told her that he, too, wanted to go away; and that if she went ahead to Ten Miles Village, he would join her there later and help her to settle down somewhere else. Tai Min was hoping that in due course he would be able to persuade her to set up a household with him, and for that he needed money. The silver Lang had promised him represented only a small sum, and Tai Min, being a shrewd youngster, had probably realized that Lang would cheat him anyway. Hence he decided to keep the necklace. Fern had described the cashier as a simple young man; he probably hadn’t realized all the implications of stealing an Imperial treasure but had taken the view, shared by many of the common people, that the Emperor was so rich he wouldn’t even notice.
That Mrs Wei had not gone to Ten Miles Village was also understandable. She had promised Tai Min to meet him there, but she had only wanted to humour him, to get rid of his attentions. In fact she had eloped with a third person, as yet unknown. A
Necklace And Calabash Page 12