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 precious 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 doorjamb.
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 crossbar 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.’
Magistrate Teng jumped up. Agitatedly pacing the floor he shouted:
‘You talk nonsense, Dee! Proof? What more proof do you want? My attacks, my dreams, that screen there…’
‘Yet there are some very curious features’ Judge Dee interrupted him, ‘features that hint at an outside element.’
The magistrate stamped his foot on the floor
‘Don’t try to fool me with idle hope, Dee, that’s cruel! Do you mean to make the preposterous suggestion that, just while I had my attack, an intruder murdered my wife? How could there ever be such an improbable coincidence?’
Judge Dee shrugged his shoulders,
‘I don’t like coincidences either, Teng. Yet such things have happened. And it is not more improbable than your having an attack and tampering with that screen, without remembering anything about it. Also, when you saw your wife upon entering the dressing-room she was lying with her back turned towards you. She may have been dead already. Have you any enemy here, Teng?’
‘Of course not!’ the magistrate replied angrily. ‘Besides, only my wife and I knew the special significance of the screen. And it hasn’t been out of the house since we arrived here. No one could have tampered with it!’ Then he took hold of himself and asked in a calmer voice: ‘What do you propose to do, Dee?’
‘I propose,’ the judge replied, ‘that you give me tomorrow—one day—for gathering additional evidence. If I fail, I shall accompany you the day after tomorrow to Pien-foo, and explain everything to the Prefect.’
‘Delaying the report of a murder is a grave offence, Dee!’ Magistrate Teng cried out. ‘Just now you said yourself you wouldn’t impede…’
‘I assume full responsibility for that!’ Judge Dee interrupted him.
Teng thought for a while, nervously walking round. Then he halted and said resigned:
‘All right, Dee. I’ll leave everything in your hands. Tell me what I should do.’
‘Very little. First, take an envelope and inscribe it with your wife’s name and address.’
Teng unlocked the upper drawer of his desk and took out an envelope. After he had jotted down a few lines, he gave it to the judge, who put it in his sleeve. Judge Dee resumed:
‘Now get me a set of your wife’s clothes from her bedroom, and make a bundle of them. Don’t forget a pair of shoes!’
The magistrate gave him a curious look, then left the room without another word.
Judge Dee quickly got up and took from the still open drawer a few sheets of official notepaper and envelopes bearing the large red seal of the tribunal. He put them carefully in his sleeve.
When Teng came in with a bundle wrapped up in blue cloth, he gave the judge a searching look, then exclaimed contritely:
‘Excuse me please, Dee! I was so preoccupied by my own problems that I didn’t even think of offering you a change! Your robe is dirty all over, and your boots are covered with mud. Allow me to lend you…’
‘Don’t bother!’ Judge Dee interrupted quickly. ‘I have a few other calls to make, in places where a new dress would attract undesirable attention. First I’ll go back to the marsh now, clothe the body and drag it across the path so that it’ll be found early tomorrow morning. The envelope I’ll put in the sleeve, so that the body will be identified immediately. Then you’ll have the autopsy conducted—you have a good coroner, I suppose?’
‘Yes, he is the owner of the large pharmacy at the market.’
‘Good. You’ll say that your wife was murdered on her way to the north gate, and that the investigation is in progress. Then you can have the body placed in a temporary coffin at least.’ He picked up the bundle, laid his hand on Teng’s shoulder and said with an affectionate smile: ‘Try to get some sleep, Teng! You’ll hear from me tomorrow. Don’t bother to show me out, I know the way.’
Judge Dee found the Student in a pitiful state. He was sitting huddled up on the boulder, with violent shivers shaking his body, despite the heat. Looking up at the judge with a sickly smile he tried to speak, but his teeth started clattering as soon as he opened his mouth.
‘Don’t worry, master-criminal!’ Judge Dee said. ‘I am back! I’ll just have another look at the corpse. Then we’ll be off to home and to bed!’
The youngster was so upset that he didn’t notice the bundle Judge Dee was carrying.
After he had drawn out the dagger he wrapped it up in a piece of oil-paper and put it in his bosom. Then he dressed the dead body. When he had put on the shoes also, he dragged it across the footpath. He called the Student. Silently they walked back through the now deserted city.
The Student seemed still deeply upset by his lonely wait. The judge reflected that the youngster’s show of viciousness was perhaps for the greater part bravado. He was only about eighteen, perhaps his morbid craving for crime would leave him in a year or so. The boy could have done worse things than join the Corporal’s gang. The Corporal was a rough-and-ready rascal, but somehow or other the judge didn’t think he was a really depraved man. If the Student came through this experience, he might yet repent and return to a normal life.
When they had gone about half-way, the Student suddenly said:
‘I know that you and the Corporal don’t think much of me, but I tell you that in a couple of days you’ll be surprised! I’ll have made more money than the two of you’ll ever have in your whole lives!’
Judge Dee made no response. The youngster was boring him with his boasting.
At the entrance of the alley where the Phoenix Inn was located the Student halted. He said crossly:
‘I’ll say goodbye here. I, have other things to attend to.’
Judge Dee walked
on to the inn.
Chapter 7
After Judge Dee and the Student left the Phoenix Inn for the marsh, Chiao Tai drank a few cups with the Corporal. They came to talk about the battles of the Imperial Army in recent years, which evidently was one of the Corporal’s favourite subjects.
‘If you liked army life’ Chiao Tai asked, ‘why did you leave?’
‘I made a stupid mistake, and I had to take to my heels in a hurry!’ the Corporal replied gruffly.
Small groups of beggars in smelly rags came drifting in. The Corporal got up and started on the accounts together with the bald man. Chiao Tai found the air in the taproom becoming worse and worse. Moreover, he was afraid that the beggar who had sold him the jewels might show up. He went out for a walk.
In the street outside it was still hot and muggy. Thinking that it might be better downtown near the river, he entered at random a sloping street. After a few wrong turns he finally arrived at the broad, curved bridge over the river. He went to stand on its highest point, leaning his elbows on the carved marble balustrade. Underneath the black water rushed along in a continuous roar, white foam spurting up as it dashed against the rocks that showed their jagged heads here and there. Chiao Tai followed the angry current as it formed swift whirlpools, and inhaled the cool air with relief.
There weren’t many people about. This was evidently a residential quarter; on the right bank he saw the large compounds of opulent mansions, and on the left the long crenellated wall and the impressive gatehouse of the garrison headquarters. The coloured flags hung down limply in the still air.
Two footpads walked up to him, noiseless on their felt shoes. But when they had come nearer they shook their heads at each other disconsolately. This rough-looking giant was not the man for them to tackle.
Chiao Tai was at a loss what to do. He tried to figure out what Judge Dee was up to, but soon gave up in disgust. All that was far beyond him. And he knew that the judge would tell him anyway—in his own good time. He spat into the water, the acrid taste of the wine he had drunk in the Phoenix Inn was still in his mouth. He wistfully thought of his comrades, Sergeant Hoong and Ma Joong, back in Penglai. Probably they were at this very moment swilling good wine in the Nine Flowers Orchard, their favourite inn, on the corner opposite the tribunal! If Ma Joong was not playing games with a nice girl! He could do with a woman himself, for that matter. But he was rather fastidious, he didn’t feel like having a look at a brothel. With a sigh he decided to walk back to the inn. The beggars might have left by now.
The Lacquer Screen Page 6