The judge felt relieved when he saw the prior, the almoner, and Tsung Lee come to their table to offer a toast. Judge Dee rose and walked back with them to their table to return the courtesy. He sat down opposite the poet, who had apparently partaken liberally of the hot wine. His face was flushed and he seemed in high spirits. The prior informed the judge that two lay brothers had already replaced the broken axle. The grooms had rubbed down and fed the horses. Thus the distinguished guest would be able to continue his journey the next morning. Unless he decided, of course, to prolong his stay — which would delight the prior.
Judge Dee thanked him warmly. The prior muttered some self-deprecatory remarks, then rose and excused himself. He and the almoner had to make preparations for the evening service.
When he was alone with the poet, the judge remarked: "I don't see Mrs. Pao and her daughter here."
"Daughter?" Tsung Lee asked with a thick tongue. "Do you seriously sustain the thesis, sir, that such a refined and slender girl can be the daughter of such a vulgar, fat woman?"
"Well," Judge Dee said noncommittally, "the passing of the years sometimes effects astonishing changes." The poet hiccoughed.
"Excuse me!" he said. "They are trying to poison me with their filthy food. It upsets my stomach. Let me tell you, Magistrate, that Mrs. Pao is no lady. The logical conclusion is that White Rose isn't her daughter." Shaking his forefinger at the judge he asked with a conspiratorial air:
"How do you know that the poor girl isn't being forced to become a nun?"
"I don't," the judge replied. "But I can ask her. Where would they be?"
"Probably taking their meal up in their room. Wise precaution too, for a decent girl shouldn't be exposed to the leers of those lewd monks. The fat woman acted wisely, for once!"
"She didn't prevent the girl from being exposed to your gaze, my friend!" Judge Dee remarked.
The poet righted himself, not without difficulty.
"My intentions, sir," he declared ponderously, "are strictly honourable!"
"I am glad to hear that!" the judge said dryly. "By the way, I would have liked to see the crypt you spoke of. But the abbot informed me just now that it can't be opened at this time of the year."
Tsung Lee gave the judge a long look from his bleary eyes. Then he said:
"So that's what he told you, eh?"
"Have you been down there yourself?."
The poet looked quickly at the abbot. Then he said in a low voice: "Not yet, but I am going to! I think the poor fellow was poisoned! Just as they are trying to poison you and me now! Mark my words!"
"You are drunk!" Judge Dee said contemptuously.
"I don't deny that!" Tsung said placidly. "It's the only way to stay sane in this mortuary! But let me assure you, sir, that the old abbot wasn't drunk when he wrote his letter to my father, the last one before he died — I beg your pardon, before he was translated." The judge raised his eyebrows.
"Did the old abbot say in that letter that his life was in danger?" he asked.
Tsung Lee nodded. He drank deeply from his wine beaker.
"Who did he say was threatening him?" Judge Dee asked again.
The poet set down his beaker hard. He shook his head reprovingly and said: "You shouldn't try to tempt me to lay myself open to the charge of bringing a false accusation, Magistrate! I know the law!" Leaning over to the judge he whispered portentously: "Wait till I have collected proof!"
Judge Dee silently caressed his side-whiskers. The youngster was a disgusting specimen, but his father had been a great man, widely respected in both official and scholarly circles. If the old abbot had indeed written such a letter to Dr. Tsung before he died, the matter deserved further investigation. He asked: "what is the present abbot's opinion?"
The poet smiled slyly. Looking at the judge with watery eyes he said:
"You ask him, Magistrate! Perhaps he won't lie to you!" Judge Dee got up. The youngster was very drunk.
When he had returned to his own table, the abbot said bitterly: "I see that Mr. Tsung is drunk again. How different he is from his late father!"
"I gather that Dr. Tsung was a patron of this monastery," the judge remarked. He took a sip from the strong tea that indicated the end of the banquet.
"He was indeed," the abbot replied. "A remarkable family, Your Honour! The grandfather was a coolie in a village down south. He used to sit in the street under the window of the village school, and learned to write by tracing in the sand the characters the teacher wrote on the blackboard. After he had passed the village examination, a few shopkeepers collected the money for letting him pursue his studies, and he came out first in the provincial examinations. He was appointed magistrate, married a girl from an impoverished old family, and later died as a Prefect. Dr. Tsung was his eldest son. He passed all the examinations with honours, married the daughter of a wealthy tea merchant, and ended his career as Provincial Governor. He invested his money wisely, and founded the enormous family fortune."
"It is because every man of talent can rise to the highest functions, regardless of means or social position, that our great Empire will flourish for ever and ever," Judge Dee said with satisfaction. "To come back to your predecessor, what disease did he die of?"
The abbot put down his cup. He replied slowly: "His Holiness Jade Mirror did not die of a disease. He was translated; that is he chose to leave us because he felt that he had reached the limit set for his stay on earth. He departed for the Isles of the Blest in good health and in full possession of his mental powers. A most remarkable and awe-inspiring miracle that left a lasting impression on all of us who had the privilege of witnessing it."
"It certainly was a memorable experience, Dee!" Sun Ming added. "I was present at it, you know. The abbot summoned all the elders and, sitting on his high seat, delivered an inspired sermon of nearly two hours. Then he folded his arms, closed his eyes and passed away."
Judge Dee nodded. The dissolute youngster had evidently been indulging in drunken fantasies. Or perhaps he was repeating false rumours. He said: "Such a miracle is liable to excite the envy of other sects. One could imagine that the black-robed Buddhist crowd would use it for spreading malicious rumors."
"I certainly wouldn't put it past them!" the abbot said.
"Anyway," Judge Dee resumed, "if evil-minded persons ever made slanderous allegations, an autopsy would soon prove them unfounded. Signs of violence can be detected, even on an embalmed body."
"Let's hope that it'll never come to that!" Sun said cheerfully. "Well, it's time I returned to my studies." Getting up he added to the judge: "I'll first show you that picture of the old abbot's cat, though! It's a relic of this temple, Dee!"
The judge suppressed a sigh. He thanked the abbot for the lavish entertainment, then followed Sun to the exit. While passing the actors' table he said quickly to Tao Gan:
"Wait for me in the portal here! I'll be back soon."
Master Sun walked with the judge through the side-corridor, and took him to the west hall of the temple.
Against the back wall stood a simple altar with four burning candles. Sun lifted one of them and let its light fall on a medium-sized scroll-painting suspended on the wall, mounted with a frame of antique brocade. It was a picture of a long-haired grey cat, lying on the edge of a table of carved ebony. Next to it was a woolen ball, behind it a bronze bowl with a piece of rock of interesting shape, and a few bamboos.
"That was the abbot's favourite cat, you know!" Sun explained in a low voice. "The old man painted it countless times. It's rather good, isn't it?"
Judge Dee thought it was very mediocre amateur's work, but he understood that its value lay in its association with the holy man. The side hall was very cold, just as he had feared. "A remarkable picture!" he said politely.
"It was the last picture he did," Sun said. "He painted it up in his room, on the afternoon of the day he died. The cat refused to eat and died a few days later. And then to think that people say that cats don't attach them
selves to their masters! I advise you now to have a look at the statues of the Taoist Triad in the main hall; they are more than ten feet high — the work of a famous sculptor. I'll be off now. I hope to see you tomorrow morning before you leave."
Scroll-painting of the Old Abbot's Cat
Judge Dee respectfully conducted him to the gate of the front hall, then he went back to the refectory. Since the statues had been there for two hundred years, they would be standing there a little longer, he presumed. He could see them when he revisited the temple at some later date.
He found his assistant waiting for him in the portal. Tao Gan reported in a low voice: "Mo Mo-te is still missing, sir. Kuan told me that nobody can say when or where he'll turn up, for he likes to go his own way. The director and the others were garrulous enough at table, but they really know very little about what is going on here, and care less. It was a pleasant meal, though. The only discordant note was an altercation at the table of the lay brothers. The brother in charge of the refectory maintained that the others hadn't put enough covers on the table. One monk was complaining that he didn't have a bowl and chopsticks."
"You call it a pleasant meal?" Judge Dee asked sourly. "I only had a few cups of wine and some tea, the rest made my stomach turn!"
"I had a very satisfactory dinner," Tao Gan said contentedly. "And all that good food gratis, for nothing!"
Judge Dee smiled. He knew that Tao Gan was inclined to be parsimonious. The gaunt man resumed: "Kuan invited me to come up to his room for a few more drinks, but I think I ought to have a look around for our mysterious actor first."
"Do that!" the judge said. "I'll go now and pay a visit to Mrs. Pao and her daughter. Their relation to Miss Ou-yang puzzles me. Tsung Lee suggested that White Rose isn't Mrs. Pao's daughter, and that she is being forced to become a nun, against her will. But the fellow was drunk. He also maintained that the former abbot had been murdered, but I asked the abbot and Master Sun, and that proved pure nonsense. Do you know where Mrs. Pao's room is?"
"On the second floor, sir, the fifth door in the second corridor, I would say."
"Good. Let's meet again in Kuan's room. I'll join you there after my talk with Mrs. Pao. I don't hear the rain any more, so we can go to the east wing directly by crossing the courtyard."
But a drenched novice who just came in informed them that although the storm had abated somewhat, it was still raining. The judge and Tao Gan made the detour through the front hall of the temple, now crowded with monks. They parted in front of the assembly hall on the ground floor of the east wing.
Judge Dee found the second floor completely deserted. The narrow, cold corridors were scantily lit by an occasional lantern. It was very still; he only heard the rustling of his brocade robe.
He was just about to start counting doors when he thought he heard whispered voices. He stood still and listened. He heard a swishing of silk behind him and at the same time smelled a sweet, cloying perfume. He was about to turn around when suddenly a searing pain shot through his head and everything went black.
X
Judge Dee's first thought was that his cold must have suddenly taken a turn for the worse. His head was aching badly and he had a queer empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He smelled a faint, feminine perfume. He opened his eyes.
He stared astonished at the blue silk curtains above his head. He was lying, fully dressed, in a strange bedstead. He raised his hand to his head and found that his cap and the bandage were gone. There was a large lump on the back of his head. He felt it with his fingertips, and winced. "Try to take a sip of this!" a soft voice spoke up by his side.
Miss Ting bent over him, a teacup in her hand. She passed her left arm round his shoulders and helped him to sit up. Suddenly he felt dizzy. She steadied him, and after a few sips of the hot tea he felt somewhat better. Slowly he began to realize what had happened.
"I was knocked down from behind," he said looking sourly at her. "What do you know about that?"
Miss Ting sat down on the edge of the bed. She said placidly: "I heard a bump against my door. I went to open it and found you lying unconscious on the floor, your head against my doorjamb. Since I thought that signified that you had intended to pay me a visit, I dragged you inside and put you on the bed. Fortunately I am rather strong, for I can assure you that you are by no means a light burden. I wet your temples with cold water till you came to. That's all I know."
Judge Dee frowned. He asked curtly: "Whom did you see in the corridor?"
"Nobody at all!"
"Did you hear the sound of footsteps?"
"No!"
"Let me see your satchel with perfume!"
Miss Ting obediently loosened the small brocade satchel from her sash and gave it to the judge. He smelled it. It was a sweet perfume, but quite different from the cloying smell he had perceived just before he was attacked. He asked again: "How long have I been unconscious?"
"Quite some time. I would say two hours or so. It's nearly midnight now." Then she added, pouting: "Is the verdict guilty or not guilty?" Judge Dee smiled wanly.
"I am sorry!" he said. "I was a bit confused. You were very kind, Miss Ting. If it hadn't been for you, the rascal who knocked me down would doubtless have finished me off then and there."
"It was the bandage under your cap that saved your life," Miss Ting remarked. "They must have hit you a vicious blow with something sharp, and if you hadn't been wearing that thick bandage filled with orange peel around your head, the blow would have cracked your skull."
"I ought to go up and thank my wives!" Judge Dee muttered. "It was they who insisted on my wearing the bandage. But I must first look into this treacherous attack!" He wanted to climb down from the bed, but a sudden attack of dizziness forced him to lie down again.
"Not so quick, Magistrate!" Miss Ting said. "It was a nasty blow. I'll help you get down and over to that arm-chair there."
When the judge was sitting at the rickety table, she dipped the bandage in the brass water basin on the dressing table. "I'll put this around your head again," she remarked, "it'll help to make the lump go down."
Sipping his tea Judge Dee looked thoughtfully at her pleasant, frank face. She was not particularly handsome, but decidedly attractive. He put her age at about twenty-five. The straight robe of black silk with the broad red sash set off her narrow waist and small, firm breasts. She had the lithe, supple body of the trained acrobat. After she had wound the bandage round his head and replaced his cap, the judge said: "Sit down and let's talk a little, while I am getting ready to go. Tell me, why did you, a nice-looking and capable young girl, choose this particular profession? I don't consider it dishonourable, mind you, but I'd have thought that a girl like you could easily have found a better way of life."
She shrugged her shoulders. Pouring out another cup of tea for the judge she answered: "Oh, I fear that I am a rather wayward and self-willed person. My father has a small pharmacy in the capital, and also five daughters, worse luck! I am the eldest, and father wanted to sell me as a concubine to the wholesale drug-dealer to whom he owed money. I thought the dealer was a nasty old man, but the alternative was a brothel and I didn't fancy that either. I had always been rather strong and fond of sports, so with my father's permission I joined Kuan's troup. Kuan advanced the money my father needed. I soon learned to act, and also to do acrobatic dances and juggling. After one year Kuan had the loan back, plus the interest. Kuan is a decent fellow. He never made passes at me or forced me to grant my favours to patrons of our show. So I stayed on." She wrinkled her nose as she went on: "I know that people say all actors are crooks and all actresses whores, but I can assure you that Kuan is scrupulously honest. And as regards myself, though I don't claim to lead a saintly life, I never sold my body and I never will."
Judge Dee nodded. He resumed: "You say that Kuan never bothered you, but what about Mo Mo-te?"
"Well, he did make a few passes at me in the beginning, but rather because he felt it was his duty as a man
than because he really wanted me. I could feel that immediately. Yet he took my refusal badly. It hurt his stupid pride. He has been unpleasant to me ever since, which I regret, for he is a superb swordsman and I would have liked to do an act with him."
"I didn't like the way he threatened Miss Ou-yang on the stage," the judge remarked. "Do you think Mo is the type of man who takes delight in inflicting pain on a woman?"
"Oh no! He has a violent temper, but he is not mean or nasty. You can take that from me, and I know a thing or two about men!"
"Did Miss Ou-yang reject him too?"
Miss Ting hesitated. She replied slowly: "Miss Ou-yang has joined our troupe only recently, you see, and…"
Her voice trailed off. She quickly emptied her teacup. Then she took a chopstick from the table, threw the saucer up in the air and caught it on its tip where she made the saucer whirl round expertly.
"Put that down!" the judge said annoyed. "It makes me dizzy all over again!" And when she had skillfully caught the saucer and put it back on the table he added: "Answer my question! Did Ou-yang reject Mo Mo-te?"
"You needn't shout at me!" Miss Ting said stiffly. "I was just coming to that. Miss Ou-yang is a bit too fond of me, you know. I don't go for that sort of thing, so I keep her at a distance. But Mo is convinced that we are having an affair. That's why he is jealous and hates her."
"I see. How long has Mo been with the show?"
"About one year. I don't think he is really an actor, but a vagabond who roams all over the Empire, making his living in various ways. At any rate I don't think Mo is his real name. I once saw a jacket of his marked with the name Liu, but he maintained he had bought it in a pawnshop. And another thing, he must have visited this monastery before."
The Haunted Monastery Page 6
