The Willow Pattern: A Judge Dee Mystery (Judge Dee Mystery Series)

by Robert Van Gulik

  ‘So your story of hearing Mrs Mei scream in the east wing, and of your rushing to her and so on, all that was a lie?’

  ‘Yes, my lord. I humbly apologize. I went back to the Mei mansion very early the next morning, on my way to another patient, just to see how the old housemaster was getting along. I knew that he was the only servant left in the house, and I was worried about him. Mrs Mei opened the door herself and told me that he was all right and would be up and about at noon. Yet she seemed very upset. She dragged me to a side room, and told me an astonishing tale.

  ‘She said that, after she had seen her husband up to his library the evening before, she had decided to pass the night in the guest-room downstairs. For she was worried about his health and wanted to be near at hand, in case he should want something. Shortly after midnight, she woke up. Her husband had come into the room. He told her he had been unable to sleep, and was not feeling well. She wanted to get up to make a cup of tea for him, when he suddenly clutched at his throat and gasped for air. Before she could rush to his assistance he had toppled over, and his head struck a corner of the carved leg of the bedstead. She knelt by his side, and found he was dead.’

  Lew paused. Looking up at the judge, he said earnestly:

  ‘I believed her, my lord. I knew that Mr Mei did indeed have a weak heart, and he had been working much too hard, lately. Then, however, she went on that she was terribly worried that people would start gossiping if she told the true facts. Neither she nor her husband ever used the guest-room, she said, and malicious people would whisper that evidently her husband had surprised her there with a lover, and that the lover had struck him down. I thought that was rather far-fetched. I asked to see the body, but she said she had dragged it to the stairs in the hall. Would I help her, and tell the coroner that her husband had fallen down the staircase after dinner the night before and that she had then called me at once? I hesitated, but she…she is a very persuasive woman, my lord. She practically pushed me outside, saying, “Go now and fetch the coroner. If we wait too long, he’ll get suspicious!’

  Doctor Lew wiped his moist face with his sleeve. Even in this high-ceilinged hall the heat was oppressive. He resumed:

  ‘Now I come to the most painful part of my confession, my lord. I want to state formally that I fully realize that, by making this statement, I lay myself open to the charge of suppressing vital evidence. But the truth must be told. Well, I fetched the coroner, and told him that I had tried to find him the previous night: I could safely say that, for I knew he had to go every night to the communal pyre.

  ‘Upon entering the hall, together with the coroner and his assistant, however, I got a terrible shock. I saw at once that Mei’s skull had been crushed by a fearful frontal blow, a wound that could never have been caused by his hitting his head on the corner of the bedstead. Moreover, the suicide-scene had been so carefully set up, that I suspected that there had been an accomplice. Some blood and matter had even been smeared on the top of the newel! While the coroner was conducting his examination, I was thinking furiously. Now I understood that Mrs Mei’s remarks about people gossiping about her husband having surprised her with a lover, were founded on truth: the truth, with a few judicious alterations! I realized the predicament I was in: she had made me an accomplice to murder! The only way out was to tell the coroner then and there that I was a fool, and denounce Mrs Mei. But…’ He suddenly fell silent.

  ‘Why didn’t you do so, then?’ Judge Dee asked evenly.

  Doctor Lew hesitated. He cleared his throat a few times, before he began, haltingly:

  ‘Well, my lord, before the coroner was through, she called me. We…we had a talk, in the side-room. She begged me on her knees to save her. Her husband had indeed caught her with her lover, they had quarrelled, and the other man had hit Mei. He had intended to stun him, then to flee. They had been distracted with fear when they saw he was dead, and after a long consultation had hit upon the suicide-scheme. She told me that no one would ever suspect that Mei hadn’t actually fallen down the steep staircase, and…’

  ‘Who was her lover?’ the judge cut him short.

  ‘She wouldn’t tell me, sir. I——’ Suddenly he jumped up and clasped his hand to his forehead. ‘Merciful Heaven!’ he shouted. ‘What an incredible fool I am! She will of course say it was me!’ He fell to his knees again. ‘Don’t believe that woman, my lord! I beseech you, don’t believe her! She is a depraved, deceitful creature, she——’

  Judge Dee raised his hand.

  ‘You are a very clever man, Lew!’ he remarked coldly. ‘I never doubted that. Captain, let the orderlies read out the accused’s statement.’

  The two men read out their notes in a sing-song voice, occasionally stopping to make a small correction where their records differed. The captain gave the document to Lew, who impressed his thumbmark on it. The doctor wanted to address the court again, but on a sign from Judge Dee the two soldiers grabbed his arms and dragged him outside.

  ‘The dirty rat!’ Chiao Tai whispered at Ma Joong. ‘He hopes to put all the blame on his mistress, and get off with a stiff term in prison.’

  The judge rapped his gavel.

  ‘Lead the accused, Mrs Mei, before me, Captain,’ he ordered.

  The two soldiers came back at once, together with an elderly woman, dressed in black. It was the matron of the municipal women’s jail.

  ‘I beg to report, my lord,’ she spoke, ‘that the prisoner Mrs Mei is ill. She vomited several times, and I think she is running a fever. I advised her to request medical attention, and file a petition for a deferred hearing. But she wouldn’t listen to me. She insisted on appearing in court as soon as she was summoned. What is your lordship’s pleasure?’

  The judge reflected a moment, vexedly tugging at his beard. Then he spoke:

  ‘Since a brief statement will suffice now, you can bring her before me. But warn the coroner to examine her directly after the hearing.’

  Judge Dee looked worriedly at Mrs Mei as she slowly advanced to the bench, very slender in her long white mourning robe. The matron had wanted to support her, but she had refused peremptorily. As she made to kneel, the judge said quickly:

  ‘The accused is allowed to remain standing. This court now…’

  ‘I killed my husband,’ she interrupted him in a strange, hoarse voice. Fixing the judge with her large, too brilliant eyes she went on: ‘I killed him, because I couldn’t stand any longer the ineffectual attentions of that old man. I had married him because, . .’ Her voice trailed off. She raised her head, the blue stones in her ear-pendants sparkling in the light of the torches. Looking over Judge Dee’s head, into some unseen distance, she went on: ‘I married him because life owed me a large debt. I was fifteen when I was sold to the brothel in the old city. I was beaten and kicked, humiliated and maltreated in every conceivable way. I was cruelly whipped, and compelled to beg for more. It was…’ She put her hands to her face.

  When she spoke again, her voice had regained some of its former rich timbre.

  ‘Then I met someone who loved me. I was happy, for some time. Then I found our love was not enough to even the debt. I wanted more than love alone. So I married Mei. I then had everything I wanted…except love. I had lovers, many lovers. Mostly I found them clumsy louts who left me more miserable than before. The others…I felt soiled by their greedy lust, degraded by their shameless demands for money. My husband discovered my affairs, and his pity humiliated me. Humiliated me more than the worst whippings in the brothel. And after I had killed him, I had to beg for pity, beg that mean doctor, had to promise I would agree to his sordid proposals.,.. I always wanted more. And the more I got, the more I lost. I fully realize that now. Too late.’

  A racking cough shook her frame.

  ‘I am. sick and tired of it all,’ she stammered. ‘Sick and tired . . tired…’

  She began to sway on her feet. After one forlorn look at the judge she collapsed on the stone floor.

  The matron squatted dow
n by her side and deftly loosened the front of her white robe. All of a sudden she jumped up, staggered back, and, covering her mouth with her sleeve, she pointed, horrified, at the tell-tale spots that covered Mrs Mei’s neck and bosom. The captain drew back, away from the writhing woman. Her limbs shook convulsively. Then she lay still.

  Judge Dee had risen from his chair. Leaning over the bench, he stared at the distorted face of the dead woman. He sat down and gave a sign to the captain. The captain shouted an order to the guards at the entrance. They hurriedly went outside.

  The deadly silence that reigned in the hall was suddenly broken by a low, rumbling sound from afar off. No one seemed to notice it.

  The guards came back with a reed mat. They covered their mouths and noses with their neckcloths, then they spread the mat over the dead body. The captain came up to the bench and told the judge: ‘I ordered the guards to call the scavengers, sir.’

  Judge Dee nodded. Then he said in a tired voice:

  ‘Have the accused Hoo Pen led before me.’

  XIX

  The squat, broad shape of Hoo appeared in the arched door opening, escorted by two soldiers. He wore a hunter’s hood on his head, and a long brown riding robe, fastened with a leather belt. Evidently he ’had been preparing to go out hunting when he was arrested. Since no formal charge had been made against him yet, he had been allowed to retain his own clothes in jail.

  He remained standing there a moment, sombrely surveying the hall. The soldier nudged him, and he walked on in his shambling, awkward gait. He cast a casual look at the reed mat, then walked on to the bench.

  ‘Kneel here on this side!’ the captain ordered him quickly. He pointed with his sword to the corner of the platform, as far as possible from the mat that covered the dead woman.

  Judge Dee rapped his gavel.

  ‘Hoo Pen,’ he said gravely, ‘you stand accused of having murdered Mr Mei Liang, by striking him on the head with a heavy ink-slab, in the guest-room of his own house.’

  Ma Joong and Chiao Tai exchanged a bewildered look. Tao Gan sat up straight in his chair, fixing the judge with an incredulous stare.

  Hoo had lifted his large head.

  ‘So she betrayed me!’ he said dully.

  Judge Dee leaned forward in his chair.

  ‘No,’ he said quietly, ‘she did not betray you. You betrayed yourself. Last night, when I came to see you.’

  Hoo fastened his eyes on the judge. He opened his mouth to speak, but Judge Dee went on quickly:

  ‘When you were telling me and my assistant the true story of the Willow Pattern, you were evidently labouring under a strong emotion. You told it as if it happened to you yourself instead of to your great-grandfather, and a hundred years ago. Admittedly it is a pathetic tale. But you must have heard it told and retold uncounted times in the family circle. Why should this old tale of bygone days disturb you so? I suspected that you too had once redeemed a courtesan, probably sacrificing the last portion of your family fortune, and that she had left you to marry a rich man.’

  He paused. Hoo remained silent. He glared broodingly at the judge from under his thick eyebrows.

  ‘Second,’ Judge Dee resumed, ‘when I informed you that Mr Yee was dead, you at once inquired about his eye. Now, the street jingle about the impending doom of the three houses, Mei, Hoo and Yee, mentions three ways of dying, in the ambiguous, oracular language those jingles always employ. Namely, by losing one’s bed, by losing one’s eye, and by losing one’s head. The jingle did not specify to whom of the three each manner of dying applied. Yee had been killed by a fearful blow that destroyed the left half of his face. The killer had left in a hurry, without taking time, of course, to verify how the blow had affected Yee’s eye. It struck me that you inquired at once after Yee’s eye, remarking at the same time that you might die by losing your head. I thought that very strange, for your remark implied that you were very sure that Mr Mei had died by what the street song called “losing his bed". But Mei had died by falling down a staircase! I couldn’t make head or tail of it. I didn’t try to draw any conclusions, but I kept the facts in mind.’

  The judge leaned back in his chair. Slowly caressing his sidewhiskers, he continued:

  ‘Thereafter, however, I learned from a reliable source that Mrs Mei had been a courtesan, of a brothel in the old city. And that she had been bought by an unknown person, whom she subsequently left for the wealthy Mr Mei. These events bore a striking similarity to the story of the Willow Pattern you told about your great-grandfather. It brought to mind a curious incident. When Mrs Mei came to see me, she winced when she noticed the Willow Pattern on a plate with cakes I offered her. And, more curious still, a puppeteer told me that a prostitute called Sapphire had disappeared from a brothel in the old city, under mysterious circumstances. Sapphire—the name of the courtesan your ancestor had bought out! And Mrs Mei showed a marked preference for that same stone. Odd coincidences. Yet I did not consider these facts as evidence that you were the man who had bought Mrs Mei out, and that you had remained her lover even after her marriage to Mei, with the implication that Mei instead of having died an accidental death had been murdered by the two of you. In the first place, I had no proof that Mei had indeed been murdered, and moreover I refused to believe that a worldly-wise and experienced man like Mei would have married a depraved woman. I did have you arrested, but that was because of quite another charge that had been brought against you.’

  Now Hoo wanted to speak, but the judge raised his hand.

  ‘No, listen to me. I have a definite purpose in telling you all this. Well, tonight everything became clear. I discovered that Mr Mei had been brutally done to death. The murderer had bashed in the old man’s head with a heavy ink-slab, and just before or after the deed he had kicked and beaten his victim in a ferocious manner. The body was covered by bad bruises, which we had wrongly ascribed to his hitting the edges of the steps while falling down. Then I also knew for sure why you had connected Mei’s death with “losing his bed"; you interpreted that term as meaning that Mei died by losing his nuptial couch, because of his wife committing adultery. That meant that you had been Mrs Mei’s lover, and that you murdered him when the old man surprised you with his wife in the guest-room. And thus the full meaning of your interpretation of the jingle was clarified. Mei had died by “losing his bed". If Yee’s death had involved his losing his eye, the logical consequence was that you would lose your head; meaning that Mei’s murder would be discovered and that you would die on the scaffold.

  ‘Finally, the fact that it was you who had bought out Mrs Mei explained why Mei had kept the antecedents of his wife secret; it was not his secret alone, but also yours. A drama of conflicting passions among the leaders of the “old world", a world now rapidly fading away.’

  The judge paused. Hoo’s face was taut, but he did not speak.

  ‘I explain all this to you, Mr Hoo, because I consider it my duty to Mrs Mei to prove that I discovered your guilt entirely by myself, and not through her betraying you. When she was standing here before my bench a few minutes ago, she didn’t as much as mention your name. On the contrary, she insisted that it had been she who had murdered her husband. Because she had got tired of his attentions.’

  Hoo came to his feet. Grasping the edge of the bench with his large hairy hands, he rasped:

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘She is dead,’ the judge said soberly. ‘After she had made her confession she died right here. Of the plague.’

  He pointed at the reed mat.

  Hoo turned round and stared at the reed mat with wide eyes, his bushy eyebrows knit in a deep frown. His lips moved but no sound came forth. Again a faint rumble of thunder sounded afar off.

  Suddenly Hoo uttered a half-suppressed, nearly animal moan. He stepped up to the reed mat. The captain rushed up to him to hold him back, but Judge Dee shook his head.

  Hoo lifted the edge of the mat, uncovering her arm, and took her slender white hand in his. Having stroked i
t gently, he then removed with infinite care the ring set with the sapphire, kissed it, and put it on his own little finger. After he had covered the hand again he rose, and resumed his former place in front of the bench. Looking up at the judge, he said in a toneless voice:

  ‘I beg to be allowed to wear this ring on the scaffold. I gave it to her when I had redeemed her.’ When Judge Dee nodded his assent, Hoo bent his head and went on slowly, his eyes on the ring: ‘She was still a young girl then…. A small, frightened girl. Her name was Sapphire, the same as that of the courtesan my great-grandfather had bought. “This is no coincidence,” I told her, “it’s the will of Heaven. Your love will make up for all the suffering the Sapphire of old caused my family.” ‘ He shook his large head. ‘Why did she change, after .our first happy years? Was it because she could not forget that I had bought her over the counter, so to speak? I don’t know. When she left me, she did so with only a few words. “Mei is rich and you are poor,” she said. “Life still owes me so much…, Brocade dresses, costly jewels, many maids to do my bidding….” That is what she said.’

  Turning the ring round on his finger, he went on:

  ‘Yet, all the luxury Mei gave her did not make her happy. She had love affairs, many of them. I was sad, because I knew it meant she was unhappy, and lonely. One day, she called me. She said she had not been able to forget me, the man who had redeemed her. Did she mean it? I didn’t know. I only knew that I was happy again. Then the sickness came. I told her she should leave, but she said no, for with the servants away, and old Mei gadding about in the market the whole day, we could meet more often. But last week she said: “This can’t go on. I must leave this city, a city of death and decay. I want to start anew, in a far-away place.” “Can I go with you?” I asked. “I don’t know,” she replied wearily. “I love you, but you would always remind me of the past. The past I want to forget.”’