‘Just when I had arrived at that conclusion, your headman came to the hostel asking for me. I assumed you wanted to consult me. But I felt that, before seeing you, I must learn more about the murdered woman. Therefore I hurriedly left the hostel by the back door, and found someone who took me to the marsh. I examined the body. There could be no doubt that she was a gentlewoman, while the fact that she wore no clothes pointed to her having been killed in her bed. The condition of the body confirmed that death had occurred during the siesta hour. Since the marsh is near the tribunal, I concluded that the dead body was indeed that of your wife, killed during the siesta in her bedroom, and after dark deposited in the marsh. This is an unfrequented neighbourhood at night, and in addition your residence has a secret exit to the usually deserted back street, so that the body could be transported with small risk. Am I right?’
‘All your deductions are quite correct, Dee,’ the magistrate said slowly. ‘But…’
Judge Dee raised his hand.
‘Before you say anything further I wish to state that no matter what happened here, I'll do everything I can to help you. But don't expect me to transgress the law, or to impede the course of justice. Therefore I warn you that if you choose to give an explanation, I'll have to consider that as evidence, and shall quote it in court if summoned as a witness. It is for you to decide whether we continue this conversation or not.’
‘I quite understand’ Magistrate Teng said in a toneless voice. ‘Of course this terrible tragedy must be brought before the Prefect. But you'll help me greatly by letting me tell you everything, and by advising me as to how to formulate my defence. For it was indeed I who killed my wife.’
‘Why?’ Judge Dee asked quietly.
The magistrate leaned back in his chair. He said wearily: ‘The answer to that question goes back a long way. More than seventy years.’
‘I put your age at not more than forty, and that of your wife at twenty-five!’ the judge said astonished.
Magistrate Teng nodded. He asked:
‘Are you by any chance a student of military history, Dee? In that case you may be familiar with the name Teng Kuo-yao.’
Judge Dee knitted his bushy eyebrows.
‘Teng Kuo-yao…’ he said pensively. ‘Let me see now. There was an able general of that name, he earned fame by his bravery in our great campaign in Central Asia. A brilliant future at Court was predicted for him, but he suddenly went into retirement because…’ The judge stopped abruptly and gave his host a startled look. ‘Heaven, was the general your grandfather?’
Teng nodded slowly.
‘He was. And allow me to state in plain terms what you hesitated to pronounce just now. He had to retire early because in a fit of temporary insanity he stabbed his best friend to death. He was acquitted, but had of course to resign.’
Deep silence reigned in the room. After a while the magistrate resumed:
‘My father was a perfectly healthy and normal man. Why should I have assumed that the disease was hereditary? Eight years ago I married Silver Lotus. I don't think there often are found a man and wife so completely, so unreservedly devoted to each other. If I acquired the reputation of being rather unsociable, it was because no company could be dearer to me than that of my beloved wife. Then one day, now seven years ago, my wife found me lying unconscious on the floor of my bedroom. When I came to I was ill. Strange memories flitted through my fevered brain. After long hesitation, I told my wife the truth. During that fit I had dreamt I savagely murdered a man, and revelled in that gory deed. I told her that a hereditary curse was on me, that she couldn't go on living with a madman, and that I would do everything to arrange for a speedy divorce.’
He covered his face with his hands. Judge Dee looked with deep compassion at the stricken man. When the magistrate had mastered his emotion, he went on:
‘Silver Lotus resolutely refused. She said she would never leave me, that she would look after me and see to it that nothing untoward happened, should I have other attacks—if I did have them, for she added that nobody could say whether my fit hadn't been due to other causes. I protested, but when she insisted, saying that she would kill herself if I divorced her, at last I, miserable wretch, gave in.…We had no children yet, and we decided there should be none. We hoped that our literary work together would make us forget that we were compelled to forgo the joy of seeing the fruits of our conjugal love. If I seemed to the outside world a reserved, rather cold man, Dee, I hope you'll now understand the reason.’
Judge Dee nodded silently. There was little one could say when confronted with such deep grief. Teng went on:
‘Four years ago I had a second attack, two years later a third. The last time I was in a violent rage, and my wife had to force a soporific down my throat to prevent a terrible accident. Her unfailing support was my only consolation. Then, four weeks ago, something happened that robbed me of that consolation also. For thereafter I could no longer share my sorrow with her. The lacquer screen took possession of me.’
The magistrate paused and pointed at the high, redlacquered screen behind Judge Dee's back. He turned and looked. The flickering light of the candles threw weird flashes on its delicately carved surface.
Magistrate Teng closed his eyes. ‘Rise and observe that screen!’ he said in an even voice. ‘I'll describe it to you I know it by heart, every square inch of it!’
The judge got up and walked over to the screen. It consisted of four panels, each bearing a beautifully executed picture, engraved in the red lacquer, and with small fragments of green jade, mother-of-pearl, silver and gold incrusted in its surface. It was a valuable antique; he estimated that it was at least two hundred years old. He remained standing there, listening to the now nearly impersonal voice behind him.
‘The four panels of the screen symbolize, as is often the case, the four seasons.* The scene on the first panel, on the left, denotes spring. A spring dream of a student, fallen asleep over his reading, on the porch of his house, in the shadow of a pine tree. While his page is preparing the tea, he dreams of four girls. They are all beautiful, but only one has caught his fancy.
‘The second panel depicts summer, the season when ambitions ripen. The student has now become a full-grown man. He is travelling to the capital to pass his final examination and become an official. He rides along, followed by his page.
‘Then comes autumn, on the third panel. The season of fulfilment. He has passed the final examination, and has been appointed a ranking official. Clad in Court-dress, he passes a house in his chariot, followed by an attendant who carries the large fan indicating his high office. On the balcony he sees the four girls of his dream, and among them the one he hoped to make his bride.’
The magistrate fell silent. Judge Dee went to stand in front of the fourth panel, and examined it curiously.
‘The fourth panel’ Teng resumed, ‘is winter, the season of introspection, of quiet enjoyment, in ever deeper understanding, of what has been acquired. It depicts the delights of matrimonial bliss.’
Judge Dee looked at the loving couple, sitting behind a table in the luxurious surroundings of an official mansion. They were sitting very close together, the man with one arm round the woman's shoulders, and with the other raising a cup to her lips. He turned round to resume his seat, but the magistrate said quickly:
‘Wait! I found this screen in a curio-shop in the capital, shortly after my marriage to Silver Lotus. I immediately purchased it, although I had to pawn some of my possessions to be able to pay the elevated price. For you must know that the four panels of this screen happen to represent the four decisive stages of my own life. When I was a student in my native place I did dream once of four girls. I did afterwards travel to the capital, and there I did see those same four girls of my dream, while passing a two-storeyed building in a chariot. It proved to be the residence of the retired Prefect Woo. And I did marry his second daughter, Silver Lotus—the girl I had singled out already in my dream! This screen was our most preci
ous possession, we always took it with us, wherever we went. How many times we have sat together in front of it, tracing every detail, and talking about our courtship and our marriage!
‘One month ago, on an exceptionally hot afternoon, I had my steward place a bamboo couch here in my library, in front of the screen, where there was a cool breeze. The pillow faced the fourth panel, the loving couple was right in front of my eyes. Then I made a frightful discovery. The design had changed. The man was plunging a dagger in his wife's breast.’
With an exclamation of surprise Judge Dee stooped and scrutinized that part of the picture. He now saw that indeed the man held a dagger in the left hand with which he embraced his wife, a dagger pointed at her heart. It consisted of a thin sliver of silver inlaid in the lacquer. Shaking his head in wonderment he went back to the table and sat down.
‘I do not know,’ the magistrate continued, “when that change occurred. Frantically I studied that particular spot, thinking that perhaps the craftsman who made the screen had accidentally dropped a sliver of silver in the still wet lacquer, and that it had come to light in that ominous place when the surface peeled off. But I soon saw that the sliver had been added afterwards, and rather clumsily, for there were tiny bursts in the area directly surrounding it.’
Judge Dee nodded slowly. He too had noticed that.
‘Therefore the only possible conclusion was that I, in a fit of insanity which I didn't even remember, had effected that change. And as obvious was the second conclusion, namely that the diseased part of my mind was planning to murder my wife.’
Magistrate Teng passed his hand over his face. He looked a moment at the screen, then quickly averted his gaze. He said in a strangled voice:
‘That screen became an obsession. During the last weeks I dreamt several times that I was killing my wife—horrible, stifling nightmares from which I awoke bathed in perspiration. The thought persecuted and tortured me every waking moment; the screen began to haunt me… And I could not bring myself to tell this to my wife. She could bear with everything, but not that I, her husband, would ever turn against her—even if in a deranged state of mind. I knew that that would break her heart.’
The magistrate stared in front of him with unseeing eyes. Then he suddenly took hold of himself and continued in a matter-of-fact voice:
‘Today we took our noon meal together outside, in a shadowy comer of the garden. But I found the air oppressive, I felt restive and thought a headache was coming on. I told my wife I would spend the siesta in my library, going over some official documents. But in my library it was also very hot, I couldn't concentrate my thoughts. Thus I decided to take my siesta in my wife's bedroom’ He rose and added: ‘Come with me, I'll show you.’
He took one of the candles, and they left the library together. Teng led the judge through a winding corridor to a small passage. He opened the door and, from the threshold, showed Judge Dee his wife's dressing-room. On the right stood a large toilet-table of carved rosewood with a round mirror of polished silver. On the left, in front of a narrow door, a low bamboo couch. In the centre of the floor of shining red marble tiles was a small round table of ebony, intricately carved. ‘On that table,’ Magistrate Teng said, ‘stood the antique vase that I broke. The door on the left there gives onto a miniature garden with a goldfish pond. My wife's chambermaid always sleeps on that bamboo couch in front of it. The large, red-lacquered door you see opposite leads to my wife's bedroom. Wait here, please.’
He went inside, took an intricate key from his bosom and opened the red door. He left it standing ajar, then came back to the judge.
‘When, this afternoon, I entered this dressing-room, the chambermaid was lying asleep on the bamboo couch. The last thing I remember is that I saw, through the bedroom door, which was standing ajar just as it is now, part of the bed, with my wife lying on it, naked. She was slumbering peacefully, lying half on her back, her head cradled in her folded right arm. I saw her beautiful profile, but she had laid her right leg over her left, so that the lower half of her body was turned away from me. She had loosened the long tresses she was so proud of, they provided a black-silk mat for her shoulders, then cascaded down from the edge of the bedstead. Then, just when I was about to go to her and wake her up, suddenly everything went black.
‘I came to myself lying on the floor here in the dressing-room, among the broken pieces of the antique vase. My eyes were blurred, I had a splitting headache, and was completely confused. I looked at the chambermaid. She was still fast asleep. I scrambled up, and stumbled to the bedroom. I remember feeling relieved at seeing that my wife was still asleep, lying exactly as I had seen her before. My attack had passed unnoticed, thank Heaven! But when I had gone inside I suddenly saw what I had done. My antique dagger was stuck in her breast, and she was dead.’
He buried his face in his hands and started to sob softly, leaning against the door-jamb.
Judge Dee quickly went into the bedroom. He surveyed the broad couch covered with a mat of closely-woven, soft reed. Near the pillow there were a few small bloodstains. Then he looked up, and saw on the wall next to the window the empty sheath of a dagger, suspended by a silken cord. By its side hung a fine old sword in a copper-studded scabbard, and a seven-stringed lute. The only window, consisting of bamboo lattice-work pasted over with thick white paper, was closed by a cross-bar of carved wood. The only other furniture was a small tea-table, a beautifully carved antique specimen of sandalwood, and two stools of the same material. In a corner stood a pile of four clothes-boxes of red leather, one for each season, richly decorated with gilded flower-motifs.
When he had rejoined the magistrate, he asked softly:
‘What did you do after that?’
‘That second, fearful shock completely unnerved me. I ran outside, locked the door behind me, and somehow or other succeeded in getting back to my library. While I was still trying to grasp the awful truth, feeling ill and confused, the steward came and announced your visit.’
‘I am very, very sorry that my visit came at that terrible moment!’ Judge Dee said contritely. ‘But of course I had no idea that…’
‘I humbly apologize for the abrupt manner in which I received you’ Magistrate Teng said formally. ‘Shall we go back to my library?’
When they were seated again at the tea-table, Teng said:
‘After you had left I recovered somewhat, and the routine of the afternoon session had a calming influence. There was a rather curious case of a suicide which helped to draw my mind away from the fearful tragedy. At the same time, however, I realized the legal consequences. Justice must take its course. I would have to travel to the Prefecture without delay, and give myself up to the Prefect as the murderer of my wife. But what was I to do with my poor wife's dead body, what was I to say to the steward, to the servants? Then I realized how fortunate I was in having you here, a wise and sympathetic colleague. I ordered the headman to go to the hostel I had recommended to you, and to ask you to come and see me. When he returned with the message that you had left for no one knew where, a sudden panic seized me. I had counted so much on your coming, and now you would perhaps return only the next day, or perhaps some mishap had befallen you…and I would have to face everything alone. Soon the servants would want to clean and air the bedroom, the steward would ask for the key.…I became obsessed with the idea that the dead body had to disappear. When the servants were taking their evening meal, I went to the bedroom, quickly bound up the hair, and wrapped the body in a coat I took at random. Then I carried it through the emergency exit to the back street. It was quite deserted, I reached the ruins unnoticed, and deposited my pitifully light burden in the marsh.
‘After I had come back, however, I suddenly realized how foolish I had been. In my agitation I had stupidly overlooked the most obvious means for deferring the discovery of my deed, namely to pretend that I had mislaid my key of the bedroom. This was indeed the pretext I gave the steward when, after the evening-meal, he again asked me for the
key. This experience convinced me that my state of mind made me wholly incapable of managing my affairs. I again sent the headman to your hostel, this time leaving an urgent message to come as soon as you returned. I waited here for you, hoping against hope that you would come, despite the late hour. And, thank Heaven, you came! Now tell me, Dee, what should I do?’
For a long time the judge made no reply. He sat there silently, staring at the screen while slowly stroking his long beard. At last he looked at the magistrate and said:
‘My answer to your question is: nothing. At least for the time being.’
‘What do you mean by that? ‘Teng exclaimed, sitting up in his chair. ‘We must go to Pien-foo, first thing tomorrow morning. Let's now write a letter to the Prefect, to be sent this very night by a special messenger so that…’
Judge Dee raised his hand.
‘Calm yourself!’ he said. ‘I examined the body, I saw the scene of the tragedy, and I am not satisfied that we know all the facts. I want proof that you killed your wife.’
The Lacquer Screen: A Chinese Detective Story (Judge Dee Mystery) Page 6