"Oh no! They are cunning enough, but not very enterprising. They don't do things they have never attempted before, unless they are taught to do them. That's why I can leave him here in this room off the chain. He'll never try to get the door open. He would have sniffed and scratched at that cupboard from time to time to make sure that you were still there, then he would have curled up in front and waited till you came out. They have infinite patience."
Judge Dee shivered involuntarily.
"They don't devour people, do they?" he asked.
"Worse than that!" Kang said with a wry smile. "They'll knock a man down and maul him, then play with him as a cat plays with a mouse, till he is dead. I once saw the remains of a hunter who had been torn to pieces by a bear. It wasn't a pretty sight!"
"Good Heavens!" Judge Dee exclaimed. "What a nice playmate!" Kang shrugged his shoulders.
"I never had any trouble with him," he said. "He also likes my sister, though he doesn't obey her as he does me. But he hates strangers. They make him nervous. He is quite funny that way, though. Some strangers he doesn't mind. He just gives them one look, then curls up in a corner and ignores them. Evidently you don't come into that category, sir! But I must say that he is in a bad temper now because he doesn't get enough exercise. Later, a couple of hours before dawn, the only time that this bee-hive here is quiet, I shall take him to the well between this building and the next. There are no doors or windows on the ground floor there, and the alley is closed by a solid gate. It was used formerly as a kind of prison for offending monks, I heard. There he can exercise a bit without danger to anybody."
Judge Dee nodded. Then he resumed: "By the way, have you perhaps seen Mo Mo-te while looking for Mrs. Pao and your sister?"
"I did not!" Kang said angrily. "That rascal is always bothering Miss Ting. I had to keep to my disguise, else I would have given him a thrashing he would remember! He may be taller and heavier than I, but I am a trained boxer and I'll lick him! Now I'll see to it that he keeps away from Miss Ting. That's a fine girl, sir, and good at sports, too. She can ride a horse, better indeed than many a man! If she married me I could take her with me on my hunting trips! I have no use for those delicate, pampered damsels my parents are always urging me to marry. But she is very independent. I doubt whether she would have me!" Judge Dee rose.
"Ask her!" he said. "You'll find her a very outspoken girl. I must be going now. My assistant will be looking for me."
He tried a friendly nod at the bear, but the animal only glared at him with its small mean eyes.
XII
As soon as Mr. Kang had closed the door, Judge Dee stepped up to the one opposite. It was not locked. But when he had pushed it open, he saw that nobody was there. A spluttering candle stood on the bamboo table. It had nearly burned out. Except for a made-up bed and two chairs there was no other furniture. There were no boxes or bundles, and not a single garment hung on the wooden clothes rack. If it had not been for the burning candle one would not have thought that anyone was staying there.
The judge pulled the drawer out, but it contained nothing but dust. He went down on his knees and looked under the bed. There was nothing but a small mouse that scurried away.
He got up, dusted his knees and went out, making for Tao Gan's room. It was well past midnight. He supposed that his gaunt assistant would have grown tired of keeping the actors company.
He found Tao Gan sitting alone in his chilly, bare room, hunched over a brazier that contained only two or three glowing coals. Tao Gan hated spending more than absolutely necessary. His long, gloomy face lit up when he saw the judge enter. Rising he asked quickly: "What happened, Your Honour? I looked everywhere but…"
"Give me a cup of hot tea!" Judge Dee said curtly. "Do you happen to have anything to eat here?"
While Judge Dee sat down heavily at the small table, Tao Gan quickly rummaged through his travelling box and found two dried oil-cakes. He handed them to the judge saying dubiously: "I am sorry I have nothing else to…"
The judge took a quick bite.
"They are excellent!" he said contentedly. "No vegetarian nonsense about these, they have the nice flavour of pork fat!"
After he had munched the cakes and drunk three cups of tea, he yawned and remarked: "The only thing I want now is a good long sleep! But although some of our problems are solved, there are still a few things that need our urgent attention. Including an attempted murder!" He told Tao Gan what had happened, and gave him an outline of his talks with Miss Ting and with the pseudo Miss Ou-yang. "So you see," he concluded, "that the case of the pious maid, White Rose, is practically finished. Tomorrow morning, before we leave here, I shall have a talk with her and Mrs. Pao. There remains the problem of who hit me on the head and why!"
Tao Gan sat deep in thought, winding and unwinding on his forefinger the three long hairs that sprouted from his left cheek. At last he said:
"Miss Ting told you that Mo Mo-te is familiar with the monastery. Could he perhaps be really a vagrant Taoist monk? Those fellows roam all over the Empire, visiting famous Taoist sites and engaging in all kinds of mischief on the side. Since they don't shave their heads like the Buddhists, they can easily act the part of laymen. Mo Mo-te may have visited this monastery before. Probably he became involved in the deaths of one or more of the three girls. The one-armed woman you saw may be another of his victims. Suppose he now came back disguised as an actor, either to silence the one-armed girl, or to blackmail eventual accomplices here?"
"There's much to what you say, Tao Gan," Judge Dee said pensively. "It agrees with a vague theory I had been trying to formulate myself. It reminds me of your remark about one cover being missing at the banquet. That might mean that Mo has resumed his Taoist garb, and mixed with the monks. If he had an accomplice here, he could easily manage that. The inhabitants of the monastery saw him wearing a mask most of the time, or with his face painted. That would also explain why we can't find him, and why his room is completely empty, as I saw just now. And if it was he who overheard my talk with the abbot, he might well want me out of the way."
"But murdering a magistrate is no small undertaking!" Tao Gan remarked.
"That's exactly why Mo is our most likely suspect. I don't think that anyone living in this monastery would dare to do that. Everybody knows that the murder of an Imperial official sets our whole administrative machine into motion, and this monastery in no time would be swarming with investigators, police-officers and special agents who would literally leave no brick unturned to find the criminal. But Mo is an outsider. He'll disappear as soon as he has done whatever he came to do, and little does he care what happens afterwards to the monastery and its inmates!"
Tao Gan nodded his agreement. After a while he spoke: "We must also keep in mind another possibility, sir. You told me that at the banquet you made inquiries regarding the death of the former abbot. Now suppose there had really been something wrong about the old fellow's demise, and that someone who had been concerned in that crime overheard your questions. Isn't it then to be expected that he would want to prevent you at all cost from initiating an investigation?"
"Impossible! I tell you that more than a dozen people were present when the old abbot died. I said clearly to the abbot that I didn't believe that…" He suddenly broke off. Then he went on slowly: "Yes, you are perfectly right! I also said that signs of violence can often be detected even on an embalmed corpse. Someone may have heard that, and wrongly concluded that I was thinking of having an autopsy conducted." He paused. Then he hit his fist on the table and muttered: "Tsung must tell me all the details about the old abbot's death! Where can we find that confounded poet?"
"When I left Kuan Lai, they were still drinking happily. Probably Tsung Lee is still there. The office paid the actors their fee tonight, and these people like to keep late hours!"
"Good, let's go there." Getting up, the judge added: "Either that blow on my head, or the couple of hours of enforced rest after it, must have cured my cold! My head is
clear now and I have got rid of that feverish feeling. What about you, though?"
"Oh," Tao Gan said with his thin smile, "I am all right! I never sleep much. I usually pass the night dozing a bit and thinking about this and that."
Judge Dee gave his assistant a curious look as the elderly man carefully doused the candle with his nimble fingers. During the year this strange, sad man had been working for him as one of his assistants he had grown rather fond of him. He wondered what he could be thinking of at night. He opened the door.
That same moment he heard the rustling of silk. A dark shape hurried away through the corridor.
"You guard the stairs!" he barked at Tao Gan. He rushed towards the corner round which the unknown listener had disappeared.
Tao Gan ran quickly to the staircase, taking a roll of black waxed thread from his sleeve. As he was stringing it across the stairs, a foot above the first step, he muttered with a sly smile: "Oh dear, oh dear! If our visitor comes rushing along here I am afraid he'll have a very bad fall!"
Just when he had fastened both ends to the bannister, the judge came back.
"No use!" he said bitterly. "There's a narrow staircase on the other side of the building!"
"What did he look like, sir?"
"I only caught a glimpse of him when I stepped outside. He was round the corner like a flash, and when I got there, he was nowhere to be seen. But it was the same villain who attacked me!"
"How does Your Honour know that?" Tao Gan asked eagerly.
"He left behind a whiff of that same sweet perfume I noticed just before I was knocked down," the judge replied. He tugged at his beard, then said angrily: "Look here, I am sick and tired of this game of hide and seek! We must do something quickly, because that rascal may have overheard everything we said just now. We'll first go to Kuan's room. If Tsung isn't there, I'll go straight to Master Sun and rouse him. We'll organize a posse to search every nook and cranny of this place, forbidden to visitors or not! Come along!"
Upon entering the actors' dressing room they found only the director and Tsung Lee. The table bore an impressive array of empty wine jars. Kuan had passed out. He was lying back in his armchair snoring loudly. Tsung Lee sat hunched over the table, aimlessly drawing figures with his forefinger in the spilt wine. He would have got up when he saw the judge enter, but the latter said curtly: "Remain seated!"
Taking the chair next to the young man he went on harshly: "Listen you! An attempt on my life was made. It may be connected with your talking about the former abbot's death. I refuse to be made to run around in circles any longer. I want to hear here and now everything you know about that affair. Speak up!"
Tsung Lee passed his hand over his face. The unexpected arrival of the judge and his man, and the harsh address, seemed to have sobered him somewhat. He looked unhappily at the judge, cleared his throat and said hesitantly:
"It's an old story, sir, I really don't know…"
"Stop beating about the bush!" Judge Dee barked. And to Tao Gan: "See whether these two tipplers have left anything in those jars and pour me a cup. It'll help me to stay awake!"
The poet looked wistfully at the cup Tao Gan was filling, but the thin man made no move to include him. He sighed and began: "You must know that my father was a close friend of Jade Mirror, the former abbot. He often visited this monastery, and they corresponded regularly with each other. In his last letter the abbot wrote that he didn't trust True Wisdom, the present abbot, who was then prior here. Jade Mirror hinted vaguely at irregularities with girls who had come to stay here to be initiated, and…"
"What kind of irregularities?" the judge interrupted sharply.
"He didn't express himself clearly, sir. It seems he suspected that monks tempted those girls to take part in some sort of secret rites, a kind of religious orgies, you know. And he thought apparently that the prior connived at those goings on. He also wrote that he had discovered that the prior secretly had planted nightshade in a hidden corner of the garden. That made Jade Mirror suspect that he was planning to poison somebody."
Judge Dee sat down his wine beaker hard on the table. He asked angrily: "Why in Heaven's name weren't those things reported to the magistrate? How can we acquit ourselves of our duties when people keep things hidden from us or tell only half-truths?"
"My father was a very conscientious man, Your Honour," the poet said apologetically. "He wouldn't dream of taking any official steps before he had ascertained all the facts. Since during his visits to the monastery Jade Mirror had never referred to those matters, and since the abbot was over seventy, he reckoned with the possibility that the old man was perhaps seeing things that weren't there. His mind was none too clear, sometimes. My father thought nothing ought to be done before Jade Mirror's vague allegations had been verified. He didn't even want to consult Master Sun without tangible proof. Unfortunately my father fell ill just at that time, and he died before he could do anything about it. But on his death-bed he enjoined me to go and make discreet inquiries here."
Tsung Lee heaved a sigh, then went on: "After my father's demise I was fully occupied for several months with putting the family affairs in order. I am the eldest son, you know. Then there arose a complicated dispute about some land we own, and the lawsuit dragged on for months. Thus one year passed by before I could come here and start my investigation. I have been at it now for two weeks, but I can't say I have made any progress. Three girls died here, but as you doubtless know, these deaths had a natural explanation. There's not the slightest indication that those young women were used for any unholy experiments. As regards the death of Jade Mirror, I was hampered in my work by the fact that the area north of the temple is closed to visitors. And I wanted especially to visit the crypt to have a look at the papers the dead abbot left. At last I decided I would try to frighten the abbot, in the forlorn hope that if he were guilty he would give himself away, or take some imprudent steps against me. Hence my poem about the ‘deadly shades of night,' and about the two abbots. You'll have noticed, sir, that the abbot was very annoyed."
"So was I," Judge Dee remarked dryly, "and I haven't the murder of an abbot on my conscience. That doesn't mean anything." He thought for a moment, then resumed: "During the banquet True Wisdom gave me a brief account of the manner in which the old abbot died. Tell me all you know about that!"
Tsung Lee cast a longing look at the wine cup in Judge Dee's hand.
"Give him a cup!" the judge said sourly to Tao Gan. "The wick is dry, so the lamp needs oil, it seems."
The poet gratefully took a long draught, then continued: "Since Jade Mirror's death was considered a miraculous event, all details have been placed on record, to be incorporated in the history of this monastery. About one year ago, on the sixteenth day of the eighth moon, Jade Mirror stayed in his room all morning. He was alone, and presumably he had been reading the scriptures, as he often did in the morning. He took his noon meal in the refectory, together with True Wisdom, Sun Ming, and the other monks. Thereafter he returned to his own room, together with True Wisdom, for a cup of tea. Soon after that, True Wisdom came out and told the two monks who were standing in the corridor outside that the abbot wanted to devote the afternoon to painting a picture of his cat."
"Master Sun showed me that picture," Judge Dee said. "It is hanging now in the side hall of the temple."
"Yes, sir. The old abbot was very fond of cats, and he liked painting them. True Wisdom returned to the temple. The two monks knew that the old abbot didn't like to be disturbed when he was painting. Since they were on duty that day in the abbot's quarters, they remained waiting outside his door to be on hand if he should call them. For an hour or so they heard the abbot humming some of his favourite religious chants, as was his wont when he was painting and the work got on well. Then he began to speak loudly, as if he was engaged in a dispute with someone. As his voice grew louder and louder, the monks became worried and went inside. They found the abbot sitting in his armchair, an exalted look on his face. He had left
the picture lying on his desk, nearly finished. He ordered the monks to summon Master Sun, the prior, the almoner and the twelve eldest monks. He said he had an important message for them.
"When all had assembled before the abbot, he smiled happily and announced that Heaven had revealed to him a new formulation of the Truth of Tao, and that he wanted to impart that to them. Sitting upright in his chair with his cat on his lap, he then delivered with flashing eyes a very mystic sermon, couched in strange, obscure language. Later the text was published together with an extensive commentary by the Chief Abbot from the capital, who elucidated all the obscure expressions and proved that this was indeed a masterly summing up of the deepest mysteries. Sermon and commentary are now used as a basic text in all the monasteries of this province.
"The abbot spoke for more than two hours. Then suddenly he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. His breathing became irregular, then ceased altogether. He was dead.
"All present were deeply moved. Seldom had there been so perfect an example of a Taoist adept of his own will peacefully translating himself from this world to the next. The Chief Abbot in the capital declared Jade Mirror a holy man. His body was embalmed and enshrined in the crypt with magnificent ceremonies that lasted three days and were attended by thousands of people.
"So you see, sir," Tsung Lee concluded dejectedly, "that there were more than a dozen witnesses who can attest that the old abbot died a natural death, and that he did not once refer to his life having been threatened, by True Wisdom or anybody else. I am more and more inclined to think that when the old man wrote his last letter, his mind was wandering. I told you that he was more than seventy years old, and it was known that he behaved a bit strangely, at times."
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