Judge Dee at Work

THE TWO BEGGARS

This story explains why Judge. Dee was late for his family dinner on the Feast of Lanterns. This feast is the concluding phase of the protracted New Year's celebrations; in the even­ing an intimate family dinner is held, and the ladies of the household consult the oracle on what the New Year has in store for them. The scene of this story is laid in Poo-yang, well-known to readers of the novel The Chinese Bell Murders. Chapter IX of that book mentions Magistrate Lo, Judge Dee's volatile colleague in the neighbouring district of Chin-hwa, who now figures in this tale about the sad fate that befell two beggars.

When the last visitor had left, Judge Dee leaned back in his chair with a sigh of relief. With tired eyes he looked out over his back garden where in the gathering dusk his three small sons were playing among the shrubbery. They were suspending lighted lanterns on the branches, painted with the images of the Eight Genii.

It was the fifteenth day of the first month, the Feast of Lan­terns. People were hanging gaily painted lanterns of all shapes and sizes in and outside their houses, transforming the entire city into a riot of garish colours. From the other side of the garden wall the judge heard the laughter of people strolling in the park.

All through the afternoon the notables of Poo-yang, the pros­perous district where Judge Dee had now been serving one year as magistrate, had been coming to his residence at the back of the tribunal compound to offer him their congratulations on this aus­picious day. He pushed his winged judge's cap back from his fore­head and passed his hand over his face. He was not accustomed to drinking so much wine in the daytime; he felt slightly sick. Leaning forward, he took a large white rose from the bowl on the tea-table, for its scent is supposed to counteract the effects of alcohol. Inhaling deeply the flower's fresh fragrance, the judge reflected that his last visitor, Ling, the master of the goldsmiths' guild, had really overstayed his welcome, had seemed glued to his chair. And Judge Dee had to change and refresh himself before going to his women's quarters, where his three wives were now supervising the preparations for the festive family dinner.

Excited children's voices rang out from the garden. The judge looked round and saw that his two eldest boys were struggling to get hold of a large coloured lantern.

'Better come inside now and have your bath!' Judge Dee called out over to them.

'Ah-kuei wants that nice lantern made by Big Sister and me all for himself!’ his eldest son shouted indignantly.

The judge was going to repeat his command, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the door in the back of the hall open. Sergeant Hoong, his confidential adviser, came shuffling inside. Noticing how wan and tired the old man looked, Judge Dee said quickly, 'Take a seat and have a cup of tea, Hoong! I am sorry I had to leave all the routine business of the tribunal to you today. I had to go over to the chancery and do some work after my guests had left, but Master Ling was more talkative than ever. He took his leave only a few moments ago.'

'There was nothing of special importance, Your Honour,' Sergeant Hoong said, as he poured the judge and himself a cup of tea. 'My only difficulty was to keep the clerks with their noses to the grindstone. Today's festive spirit had got hold of them!’

Hoong sat down and sipped his tea, carefully holding up his ragged grey moustache with his left thumb.

'Well, the Feast of Lanterns is on,' the judge said, putting the white rose back on the table.' As long as no urgent cases are reported, we can afford to be a little less strict for once.'

Sergeant Hoong nodded. 'The warden of the north quarter came to the chancery just before noon and reported an accident, sir. An old beggar fell into a deep drain, in a back street not far from Master Ling's residence. His head hit a sharp stone at the bottom, and he died. Our coroner performed the autopsy and signed the certificate of accidental death. The poor wretch was clad only in a tattered gown, he hadn't even a cap on his head, and his greying hair was hanging loose. He was a cripple. He must have stumbled into the drain going out at dawn for his morning rounds. Sheng Pa, the head of the beggars, couldn't identify him. Poor fellow must have come to the city from up-country expecting good earnings here during the feast. If nobody comes to claim the corpse, we'll have it burned tomorrow.'

Judge Dee looked round at his eldest son, who was moving an armchair among the pillars that lined the open front of the hall. The judge snapped: 'Stop fiddling around with that chair, and do as I told you! All three of you!'

'Yes, sir!' the three boys shouted in chorus.

While they were rushing away, Judge Dee said to Hoong: 'Tell the warden to have the drain covered up properly, and give him a good talking to! Those fellows are supposed to see to it that the streets in their quarter are kept in good repair. By the way, we expect you to join our small family dinner tonight, Hoong!'

The old man bowed with a gratified smile.

'I'll go now to the chancery and lock up, sir! I'll present myself at Your Honour's residence again in half an hour.'

After the sergeant had left, Judge Dee reflected that he ought to go too and change from his ceremonial robe of stiff green bro­cade into a comfortable house-gown. But he felt loath to leave the quiet atmosphere of the now empty hall, and thought he might as well have one more cup of tea. In the park outside it had grown quiet too; people had gone home for the evening rice. Later they would swarm out into the street again, to admire the display of lanterns and have drinking bouts in the roadside wine-houses. Putting his cup down, Judge Dee reflected that perhaps he shouldn't have given Ma Joong and his two other lieutenants the night off, for later in the evening there might be brawls in the brothel district. He must remember to tell the headman of the constables to double the night watch.

He stretched his hand out again for his teacup. Suddenly he checked himself. He stared fixedly at the shadows at the back of the hall. A tall old man had come in. He seemed to be clad in a tattered robe, his head with the long flowing hair was bare. Silently he limped across the hall, supporting himself on a crooked staff. He didn't seem to notice the judge, but went straight past with bent head.

Judge Dee was going to shout and ask what he meant by com­ing in unannounced, but the words were never spoken. The judge froze in sudden horror. The old man seemed to flit right through the large cupboard, then stepped down noiselessly into the garden.

The judge jumped up and ran to the garden steps. 'Come back, you!' he shouted angrily.

There was no answer.

Judge Dee stepped down into the moonlit garden. Nobody was there. He quickly searched the low shrubbery along the wall, but found nothing. And the small garden gate to the park outside was securely locked and barred as usual.

The judge remained standing there. Shivering involuntarily, he pulled his robe closer to his body. He had seen the ghost of the dead beggar.

After a while he took hold of himself. He turned round abruptly, went back up to the hall and entered the dim corridor leading to the front of his private residence. He returned absent­mindedly the respectful greeting of his doorman, who was light­ing two brightly coloured lanterns at the gate, then crossed the central courtyard of the tribunal compound and walked straight to the chancery.

The clerks had gone home already; only Sergeant Hoong was there, sorting out a pile of papers on his desk by the light of a single candle. He looked up astonished as he saw the judge come in.

'I thought that I might as well have a look at that dead beggar after all,' Judge Dee said casually.

Hoong quickly lit a new candle. He led the judge through the dark, deserted corridors to the jail at the back of the courtroom. In the side hall a thin form was lying on a deal table, covered by a reed mat.

Judge Dee took the candle from Hoong, and motioned him to remove the mat. Raising the candle, the judge stared at the life­less, haggard face. It was deeply lined, and the cheeks were hollow, but it lacked the coarse features one would expect in a beggar. He seemed about fifty; his long, tousled hair was streaked with grey. The thin lips under the short moustache were distorted in a repulsive death grimace. He wore no beard.

The judge pulled open the lower part of the tattered, patched gown. Pointing at the misshapen left leg, he remarked, 'He must have broken his knee once, and it was badly set. He must have walked with a pronounced limp.'

Sergeant Hoong picked up a long crooked staff standing in the corner and said, 'Since he was quite tall, he supported himself on this crutch. It was found by his side, at the bottom of the drain.'

Judge Dee nodded. He tried to raise the left arm of the corpse, but it was quite stiff. Stooping, he scrutinized the hand, then righting himself, he said, 'Look at this, Hoong! These soft hands without any callouses, the long, well-tended fingernails! Turn the body over!’

When the sergeant had rolled the stiff corpse over on its face Judge Dee studied the gaping wound at the back of the skull. After a while he handed the candle to Hoong, and taking a paper handkerchief from his sleeve, he used it to carefully brush aside the matted grey hair, which was clotted with dried blood. He then examined the handkerchief under the candle. Showing it to Hoong, he said curtly: 'Do you see this fine sand and white grit? You wouldn't expect to find that at the bottom of a drain, would you?'

Sergeant Hoong shook his head perplexedly. He replied slowly, 'No, sir. Slime and mud rather, I'd say.'

Judge Dee walked over to the other end of the table and looked at the bare feet. They were white, and the soles were soft. Turning to the sergeant, he said gravely, 'I fear that our coroner's thoughts were on tonight's feast rather than on his duties when he per­formed the post-mortem. This man wasn't a beggar, and he didn't fall accidentally into the drain. He was thrown into it when he was dead already. By the person who murdered him.'

Sergeant Hoong nodded, ruefully pulling at his short grey beard. 'Yes, the murderer must have stripped him, and put him in that beggar's gown. It should have struck me at once that the man was naked under that tattered robe. Even a poor beggar would have been wearing something underneath; the evenings are still rather chilly.' Looking again at the gaping wound, he asked: 'Do you think the head was bashed in with a heavy club, sir?'

RAISING THE CANDLE, THE JUDGE STARED AT THE LIFELESS, HAGGARD FACE

'Perhaps,' Judge Dee replied. He smoothed down his long, black beard. 'Has any person been reported missing recently?'

'Yes, Your Honour! Guildmaster Ling sent a note yesterday stating that Mr Wang, the private tutor of his children, had failed to come back from his weekly holiday two days ago.'

'Strange that Ling didn't mention that when he came to visit me just now!’ Judge Dee muttered. Tell the headman to have my palankeen ready! And let my house steward inform my First Lady not to wait for me with dinner!’

After Hoong had left, the judge remained standing there, look­ing down at the dead man whose ghost he had seen passing through the hall.

The old guildmaster came rushing out into his front courtyard when the bearers deposited Judge Dee's large official palankeen. While assisting the judge to descend, Ling inquired boisterously, 'Well, well, to what fortunate occurrence am I indebted for this unexpected honour?'

Evidently Ling had just left a festive family dinner, for he reeked of wine and his words were slightly slurred.

'Hardly fortunate, I fear,' Judge Dee remarked, as Ling led him and Sergeant Hoong to the reception hall. 'Could you give me a description of your house tutor, the one who has disappeared?'

'Heavens, I do hope the fellow didn't get himself into trouble! Well, he wasn't anything special to look at. A tall thin man, with a short moustache, no beard. Walked with a limp, left leg was badly deformed.'

'He has met with a fatal accident,' Judge Dee said evenly.

Ling gave him a quick look, then motioned his guest to sit in the place of honour at the central table under the huge lantern of coloured silk hung there for the feast. He himself sat down opposite the judge. Hoong remained standing behind his master's chair. While the steward was pouring the tea, Guildmaster Ling said slowly, 'So that's why Wang didn't turn up two days ago, after his weekly day off!' The sudden news seemed to have sobered him up considerably.

'Where did he go to?' Judge Dee asked.

'Heaven knows! I am not a man who pries into the private affairs of his household staff. Wang had every Thursday off; he would leave here Wednesday night before dinner, and return Thursday evening, also at dinner time. That's all I know, and all I need to know, if I may say so, sir!’

'How long had he been with you?'

'About one year. Came from the capital with an introduction from a well-known goldsmith there. Since I needed a tutor to teach my grandsons, I engaged him. Found him a quiet, decent fellow. Quite competent too.'

'Do you know why he chose to leave the capital and seek employment here in Poo-yang? Did he have any family here?'

'I don't know,' Ling replied crossly. 'It was not my habit to discuss with him anything except the progress of my grand­children.'

'Call your house steward!'

The guildmaster turned round in his chair and beckoned the steward who was hovering about in the back of the spacious hall.

When he had come up to the table and made his obeisance, Judge Dee said to him, 'Mr Wang has met with an accident and the tribunal must inform the next of kin. You know the address of his relatives here, I suppose?'

The steward cast an uneasy glance at his master. He stammered, 'He ... as far as I know Mr Wang didn't have any relatives living here in Poo-yang, Your Honour.'

'Where did he go then for his weekly holidays?'

'He never told me, sir. I suppose he went to see a friend or something.' Seeing Judge Dee's sceptical expression, he quickly went on, 'Mr Wang was a taciturn man, Your Honour, and he always evaded questions about his private affairs. He liked to be alone. He spent his spare hours in the small room he has in the back yard of this residence. His only recreation was brief walks in our garden.'

'Didn't he receive or send any letters?'

'Not that I know of, sir.' The steward hesitated a moment. 'From some chance remarks of his about his former life in the capital I gathered that his wife had left him. It seemed that she was of a very jealous disposition.' He gave his employer an anxious glance. As he saw that Ling was staring ahead and didn't seem to be listening, he went on with more self-assurance: 'Mr Wang had no private means at all, sir, and he was very parsimonious. He hardly spent one cent of his salary, never even took a sedan chair when he went out on his day off. But he must have been a wealthy man once, I could tell that from some small mannerisms of his. I think that he was even an official once, for sometimes when caught off guard he would address me in rather an authori­tative tone. I understand he lost everything, his money and his official position. Didn't seem to mind, though. Once he said to me: "Money is of no use if you don't enjoy life spending it; and when your money is spent, official life has lost its glamour." Rather a frivolous remark coming from such a learned gentleman, I thought, sir — if I may make so bold, sir.'

Ling glared at him and said with a sneer, 'You seem to find time hanging heavily on your hands in this household! Gossiping instead of supervising the servants!’

'Let the man speak!’ the judge snapped at Ling. And to the steward: 'Was there absolutely no clue as to where Mr Wang used to go on his days off? You must know; you saw him go in and out, didn't you?'

The steward frowned. Then he replied, 'Well, it did strike me that Mr Wang always seemed happy when he went, but when he came back he was usually rather depressed. He had melancholy moods at times. Never interfered with his teaching, though, sir. He was always ready to answer difficult questions, the young miss said the other day.'

'You stated that Wang only taught your grandchildren,' the judge said sharply to Ling. 'Now it appears that he also taught your daughter!’

The guildmaster gave his steward a furious look. He moistened his lips, then replied curtly, 'He did. Until she was married, two months ago.'

'I see.' Judge Dee rose from his chair and told the steward: 'Show me Mr Wang's room!' He motioned to Sergeant Hoong to follow him. As Ling made a move to join them, the judge said: -'Your presence is not required.'

The steward led the judge and Hoong through a maze of cor­ridors to the back yard of the extensive compound. He unlocked a narrow door, lifted the candle and showed them a small, poorly furnished room. There was only a bamboo couch, a simple writing-desk with a straight-backed chair, a bamboo rack with a few books and a black-leather clothes-box. The walls were covered with long strips of paper, bearing ink-sketches of orchids, done with con­siderable skill. Following Judge Dee's glance, the steward said:

'That was Mr Wang's only hobby, sir. He loved orchids, knew everything about tending them.'

'Didn't he have a few potted orchids about?' the judge asked.

'No, sir. I don't think he could afford to buy them — they are quite expensive, sir!’

Judge Dee nodded. He picked up a few of the dog-eared volumes from the book rack and glanced through them. It was romantic poetry, in cheap editions. Then he opened the clothes-box. It was stuffed with men's garments, worn threadbare, but of good quality. The cash box at the bottom of the box contained only some small change. The judge turned to the desk. The drawer had no lock. Inside were the usual writing materials, but no money and not a scrap of inscribed paper, not even a receipted bill. He slammed the drawer shut and angrily asked the steward, 'Who has rifled this room during Mr Wang's absence?'

'Nobody has been here, Your Honour!’ the frightened steward stammered. 'Mr Wang always locked the door when he went out, and I have the only spare key.'

'You yourself told me that Wang didn't spend a cent, didn't you? What has happened to his savings over the past year? There's only some small change here!’

The steward shook his head in bewilderment. 'I really couldn't say, Your Honour! I am sure nobody came in here. And all the servants have been with us for years. There has never been any pilfering, I can assure you, sir!'

Judge Dee remained standing for a while by the desk. He stared at the paintings, slowly tugging at his moustache. Then he turned round and said: 'Take us back to the hall!’ While the steward was conducting them again through the winding corridors, Judge Dee remarked casually, 'This residence is situated in a nice, quiet neighbourhood.'

'Oh yes, indeed, sir, very quiet and respectable!'

'It's exactly in such a nice, respectable neighbourhood that one finds the better houses of assignation,' the judge remarked dryly. 'Are there any near here?'

The steward seemed taken aback by this unexpected question. He cleared his throat and replied difiidently, 'Only one, sir, two streets away. It's kept by a Mrs Kwang — very high class, visited by the best people only, sir. Never any brawls or other trouble there, sir.'

'I am glad to hear that,' Judge Dee said.

Back in the reception hall he told the guildmaster that he would have to accompany him to the tribunal to make the formal iden­tification of the dead man. While they were being carried out there in Judge Dee's palankeen, the guildmaster observed a surly silence.

After Ling had stated that the dead body was indeed that of his house tutor and filled out the necessary documents, Judge Dee let him go. Then he said to Sergeant Hoong, 'I'll now change into a more comfortable robe. In the meantime you tell our headman to stand by in the courtyard with two constables.'

Sergeant Hoong found the judge in his private office. He had changed into a simple robe of dark-grey cotton with a broad black sash, and he had placed a small black skull-cap on his head.

Hoong wanted to ask him where they were going, but seeing Judge Dee's preoccupied mien, he thought better of it and silently followed him out into the courtyard.

The headman and two constables sprang to attention when they saw the judge.

'Do you know the address of a house of assignation in the north quarter, close by Guildmaster Ling's residence?' Judge Dee asked.

'Certainly, Your Honour!' the headman answered officiously. That's Mrs Kwang's establishment. Properly licensed, and very high class, sir, only the best ...'

'I know, I know!' the judge cut him short impatiently. 'We'll walk out there. You lead the way with your men!'

Now the streets were crowded again with people. They were milling around under the garlands of coloured lanterns that spanned the streets and decorated the fronts of all the shops and restaurants. The headman and the two constables unceremoniously elbowed people aside, making way for the judge and Sergeant Hoong.

Even in the back street where Mrs Kwang lived there were many people about. When the headman had knocked and told the gatekeeper that the magistrate had arrived, the frightened old man quickly conducted the judge and Hoong to a luxuriously appointed waiting-room in the front court.

An elderly, sedately dressed maidservant placed a tea-set of exquisite antique porcelain on the table. Then a tall, handsome woman of about thirty came in, made a low bow and introduced herself as Mrs Kwang, a widow. She wore a straight, long-sleeved robe, simple in style but made of costly, dark-violet damask. She herself poured the tea for the judge, elegantly holding up with her left hand the trailing sleeve of the right. She remained stand­ing in front of the judge, respectfully waiting for him to address her. Sergeant Hoong stood behind Judge Dee's chair, his arms folded in his wide sleeves.

Leisurely tasting the fragrant tea, Judge Dee noticed how quiet it was; all noise was kept out by the embroidered curtains and wall-hangings of heavy brocade. The faint scent of rare and very expensive incense floated in the air. All very high class indeed. He set down his cup and began, 'I disapprove of your trade, Mrs Kwang. I recognize, however, that it is a necessary evil. As long as you keep everything orderly and treat the girls well, I won't make any trouble for you. Tell me, how many girls have you working here?'

'Eight, Your Honour. All purchased in the regular manner, of course, mostly directly from their parents. Every three months the ledgers with their earnings are sent to the tribunal, for the assess­ment of my taxes. I trust that ...'

'No, I have no complaints about that. But I am informed that one of the girls was bought out recently by a wealthy patron. Who is the fortunate girl?'

Mrs Kwang looked politely astonished. "There must be some misunderstanding, Your Honour. All my girls here are still very-young — the eldest is just nineteen — and haven't yet completed their training in music and dancing. They try hard to please, of course, but none of them has yet succeeded in captivating the favour of a wealthy patron so as to establish an ah . . , more permanent relationship.' She paused, then added primly, 'Although such a transaction means, of course, a very substantial monetary gain for me, I don't encourage it until a courtesan is well into her twenties, and in every respect worthy of attaining the crowning success of her career.'

'I see,' Judge Dee said. He thought ruefully that this informa­tion disposed effectively of his attractive theory. Now that his hunch had proved wrong, this case would necessitate a long in­vestigation, beginning with the goldsmith in the capital who had introduced Wang to Guildmaster Ling. Suddenly another possi­bility flashed through his mind. Yes, he thought he could take the chance. Giving Mrs Kwang a stern look he said coldly:

'Don't prevaricate, Mrs Kwang! Besides the eight girls who are living here, you have established another in a house of her own. That's a serious offence, for your licence covers this house only.'

Mrs Kwang put a lock straight in her elaborate coiffure. The gesture made her long sleeve slip back, revealing her white, rounded forearm. Then she replied calmly:

That information is only partly correct, Your Honour. I sup­pose it refers to Miss Liang, who lives in the next street. She is an accomplished courtesan from the capital, about thirty years old — her professional name is Rosedew. Since she was very popular in elegant circles in the capital, she saved a great deal of money and bought herself free, without, however, handing in her licence. She wanted to settle down, and came here to Poo-yang for a period of rest, and to have a leisurely look around for a suitable marriage partner. She's a very intelligent woman, sir; she knows that all those elegant, flighty young men in the capital don't go for per­manent arrangements, so she wanted a steady, elderly man of some means and position. Only occasionally did she receive such selected clients here in my house. Your Honour will find the per­taining entries in a separate ledger, also duly submitted regularly for inspection. Since Miss Liang has kept her licence, and since the taxes on her earnings are paid ...'

She let her voice trail off. Judge Dee was secretly very pleased, for he knew now that he had been on the right track after all. But he assumed an angry mien, hit his fist on the table and barked, 'So the man who is buying Rosedew out to marry her is being meanly deceived! For there is no redemption fee to be paid! Not one copper, neither to you nor to her former owner in the capital! Speak up! Weren't you and she going to share that fee, obtained from the unsuspecting patron under false pretences?'

At this Mrs Kwang lost her composure at last. She knelt down in front of Judge Dee's chair and repeatedly knocked her fore­head on the floor. Looking up, she wailed, 'Please forgive this ignorant person, Excellency! The money has not yet been handed over. Her patron is an exalted person, Excellency, a colleague of Your Excellency, in fact, the magistrate of a district in this same region. If he should hear about this, he ...'

She burst into tears.

Judge Dee turned round and gave Sergeant Hoong a significant look. That could be no one else but his amorous colleague of Chin-hwa, Magistrate Lo! He barked at Mrs Kwang: 'It was indeed Magistrate Lo who asked me to investigate. Tell me where Miss Liang lives; I shall interrogate her personally about this dis­graceful affair!’

A short walk brought the judge and his men to the address in the next street that the tearful Mrs Kwang had given him.

Before knocking on the gate, the headman quickly looked up and down the street, then said, 'If I am not greatly mistaken, sir, the drain that beggar fell into is located right at the back of this house.'

'Good!' Judge Dee exclaimed. 'Here, I'll knock myself. You and your two men keep close to the wall while I go inside with the sergeant. Wait here till I call you!’

After repeated knocking the peephole grate in the gate opened and a woman's voice asked, 'Who is there?'

'I have a message from Magistrate Lo, for a Miss Rosedew,' Judge Dee said politely.

The door opened at once. A small woman dressed in a thin houserobe of white silk asked the two men to enter. As she preceded them to the open hall in the front court, the judge noticed that despite her frail build she had an excellent figure.

When they were inside she gave her two visitors a curious look, then bade them seat themselves on the couch of carved rosewood. She said somewhat diffidently: 'I am indeed Rosedew. Who do I have the honour of ...'

'We shan't take much of your time, Miss Liang,' the judge interrupted quickly. He looked her over. She had a finely chiselled mobile face, with expressive, almond-shaped eyes and a delicate small mouth — a woman of considerable intelligence and charm. Yet something didn't fit with his theory.

He surveyed the elegantly furnished hall. His eye fell on a high rack of polished bamboo in front of the side window. Each of its three superimposed shelves bore a row of orchid plants, potted in beautiful porcelain bowls. Their delicate fragrance pervaded the air. Pointing at the rack, he said: 'Magistrate Lo told me about your fine collection of orchids, Miss Liang. I am a great lover of them myself. Look, what a pity! The second one on the top shelf has wilted, it needs special treatment, I think. Could you get it down and show it to me?'

She gave him a doubtful look, but apparently decided that it was better to humour this queer friend of Magistrate Lo. She took a bamboo step-ladder from the corner, placed it in front of the rack, and nimbly climbed up, modestly gathering the thin robe round her shapely legs. When she was about to take the pot, Judge Dee suddenly stepped up close to the ladder and remarked casually:

'Mr Wang used to call you Orchid, didn't he, Miss Liang? So much more apposite than Rosedew, surely!’ When Miss Liang stood motionless, looking down at the judge with eyes that were suddenly wide with fear, he added sharply: 'Mr Wang was standing exactly where I am standing now when you smashed the flower pot down on his head, wasn't he?'

She started to sway. Uttering a cry, she wildly groped for sup­port. Judge Dee quickly steadied the ladder. Reaching up, he caught her round her waist and set her down on the floor. She clasped her hands to her heaving bosom and gasped: 'I don't . . Who are you?'

'I am the magistrate of Poo-yang,' the judge replied coldly. 'After you murdered Wang, you replaced the broken flower pot by a new one, and transplanted the orchid. That's why it's wilted, isn't it?'

'It's a lie!’ she cried out. 'Wicked slander. I shall ...'

'I have proof!' Judge Dee cut her short. 'A servant of the neighbours saw you dragging the dead body to the drain behind your house here. And I found in Wang's room a note of his, stating that he feared you would harm him, now that you had a wealthy patron who wanted to marry you.'

'The treacherous dog!’ she shouted. 'He swore he didn't keep one scrap of paper relating to ...' She suddenly stopped and angrily bit her red lips.

'I know everything,' the judge said evenly. 'Wang wanted more than his weekly visits. Thus he endangered your affair with Magistrate Lo, an affair that would not only bring in a lump sum of money for you and Mrs Kwang, but also set you up for life. Therefore you had to kill your lover.'

'Lover?' she screamed. 'Do you think I allowed that disgusting cripple ever to touch me here? It was bad enough to have to submit to his odious embraces before, when we were still in the capital!’

'Yet you allowed him to share your bed here,' Judge Dee re­marked with disdain.

'You know where he slept? In the kitchen! I wouldn't have allowed him to come at all, but he made himself useful by answer­ing my love letters for me, and he paid for and tended those orchids there, so that I would have flowers to wear in my hair. He also acted as doorman and brought tea and refreshments when one of my lovers was here. What else do you think I allowed him to come here for?'

'Since he had spent his entire fortune on you I thought per­haps ...' Judge Dee said dryly.

'The damnable fool!.' she burst out again. 'Even after I had told him that I was through with him, he kept on running after me, saying he couldn't live without seeing my face now and then — the cringing beggar! His ridiculous devotion spoilt my reputa­tion. It was because of him that I had to leave the capital and bury myself in this dreary place. And I, fool that I was, trusted that simpering wretch! Leaving a note accusing me! He's ruined me, the dirty traitor!'

Her beautiful face had changed into an evil mask. She stamped her small foot on the floor in impotent rage.

'No,' Judge Dee said in a tired voice, 'Wang didn't accuse you. What I said just now about that note wasn't true. Beyond a few paintings of orchids which he did when thinking of you, there wasn't one clue to you in his room. The poor, misguided man remained loyal to you, to his very end!’ He clapped his hands. When the headman and the two constables had come rushing inside, he ordered: 'Put this woman in chains and lock her up in jail. She has confessed to a foul murder.' As the two constables grabbed her arms and the headman started to chain her, the judge said: 'Since there is not a single reason for clemency, you shall be beheaded on the execution ground.'

He turned round and left, followed by Sergeant Hoong. The woman's frantic cries were drowned by the loud shouts and laughter of a happy group of youngsters who came surging through the street, waving brightly coloured lanterns.

When they were back in the tribunal, Judge Dee took Hoong straight to his own residence. While walking with him to the back hall, he said, 'Let's just have one cup of tea before we go and join the dinner in my women's quarters.'

The two men sat down at the round table. The large lantern hanging from the eaves, and those among the shrubs in the garden had been extinguished. But the full moon lit up the hall with its eerie light.

Judge Dee quickly emptied his cup, then he sat back in his chair and began without further preliminaries:

'Before we went to see Guildmaster Ling, I knew only that the beggar was no beggar, and that he had been murdered elsewhere by having the back of his skull bashed in, probably with a flower pot — as suggested by the fine sand and white grit. Then, during our interview with Ling, I suspected for a moment that the guild­master was involved in this crime. He hadn't said a word about Wang's disappearance when he came to visit me, and I thought it strange that later he didn't inquire what exactly had happened to Wang. But I soon realized that Ling is that unpleasant kind of person who doesn't take the slightest interest in his personnel, and that he was cross because I had interrupted his family party. What the steward told me about Wang brought to light a fairly clear pattern. The steward said that Wang's family life had been broken up because he squandered his wealth, and his mentioning Mrs Wang's jealousy pointed to another woman being involved. Thus I deducted that Wang had become deeply infatuated with a famous courtesan.'

'Why not with some decent girl or woman, or even with a common prostitute?' the sergeant objected.

'If it had been a decent woman, Wang would not have needed to spend his fortune on her; he could have divorced his wife and married his lady-love. And if she had been a common prostitute, he could have bought her out at a moderate price, and set her up in a small house of her own — all without sacrificing his wealth and his official position. No, I was certain that Wang's mistress must have been a famous courtesan in the capital, who could afford to squeeze a lover dry, then discard him and go on to the next. But I assumed that Wang refused to let himself be thrown away like a chewed-out piece of sugar cane, and that he made a nuisance of himself. That she fled from the capital and came to Poo-yang in order to start her game all over again. For it's well known that many wealthy merchants are living here in this district. I assumed that Wang had traced her here and had forced her to let him visit her regularly, threatening to expose her callous racket if she refused. Finally, that after she had caught my foolish colleague Lo, Wang began to blackmail her, and that therefore she had killed him.' He sighed, then added: 'We now know that it was quite different. Wang sacrificed everything he had for her, and even the pittance he received as tutor he spent on orchids for her. He was quite content to be allowed to see and talk to her every week, frustrating and humiliating as those few hours were. Sometimes, Hoong, a man's folly is engendered by such a deep and reckless passion that it lends him a kind of pathetic grandeur.' Sergeant Hoong pensively pulled at his ragged grey moustache. After a while he asked, 'There are a great many courtesans here in Poo-yang. How did Your Honour know that Wang's mistress must belong to the house of Mrs Kwang? And why did it have to be his mistress who murdered him and not, for instance, an­other jealous lover?'

'Wang used to go there on foot. Since he was a cripple, this proved that she must Uve near to the guildmaster's house, and that led us to Mrs Kwang's establishment. I asked Mrs Kwang what courtesan had been recently bought out, because such an occurrence supplied the most plausible motive for the murder, namely that the courtesan had to get rid of an embarrassing former lover. Well, we know that Wang was indeed embarrassing her, but not by threatening to blackmail her or by any other wicked scheme. It was just his dog-like devotion that made her hate and despise him. As to the other possibilities you just men­tioned, I had of course also reckoned with those. But if the mur­derer had been a man, he would have carried the body away to some distant spot, and he would also have been more thorough in his attempts at concealing his victim's identity. The fact that the attempt was confined to dressing the victim in a tattered beggar's gown, loosening his top-knot and mussing up his hair, pointed to a woman having done the deed. Women know that a different dress and hair-do can completely alter their own appear­ance. Miss Liang applied this method to a man — and that was a bad mistake.'

Judge Dee took a sip from the cup the sergeant had refilled for him, then resumed, 'As a matter of course it could also have been an elaborate scheme to inculpate Miss Liang. But I considered that a remote possibility. Miss Liang herself was our best chance. When the headman informed me that the dead beggar had been found at the back of her house, I knew that my theory must be correct. However, when we had gone inside I saw that she was a rather small and frail woman, who could never have bashed in the head of her tall victim. Therefore I at once looked around for some death-trap, and found it in the potted orchids on the high shelf, where the wilted plant supplied the final clue. She must have climbed up the ladder, probably asking Wang to steady it for her. Then she made some remark or other that made him turn his head, and smashed the pot down on his skull. These and other details we'll learn tomorrow when I question Miss Liang in the tribunal. Now as regards the role played by Mrs Kwang, I don't think she did more than help Miss Liang to con­coct the scheme of getting the fictitious redemption fee out of Lo. Our charming hostess draws the line at murder; hers is a high-class establishment, remember!'

Sergeant Hoong nodded. 'Your Honour has not only uncovered a cruel murder, but at the same time saved Magistrate Lo from an alliance with a determined and evil woman!'

Judge Dee smiled faintly. 'Next time I meet Lo,' he said, 'I'll tell him about this case — without mentioning, of course, that I know it was he who patronized Miss Liang. My gay friend must have been visiting my district incognito! This case will teach him a lesson — I hope!'

Hoong discreetly refrained from commenting further on one of his master's colleagues. He remarked with a satisfied smile: 'So now all the points of this curious case have been cleared up!'

Judge Dee took a long draught from his tea. As he set the cup down he shook his head and said unhappily: 'No, Hoong. Not all the points.'

He thought he might as well tell the sergeant now about the ghostly apparition of the dead beggar, without which this murder would have been dismissed as an ordinary accident. But just as he was about to speak, his eldest son came rushing inside. Seeing his father's angry look, the boy said with a quick bow: 'Mother said we might take that nice lantern to our bedroom, sir!'

As his father nodded, the small fellow pushed an armchair up to one of the pillars. He climbed on the high backrest, reached up and unhooked the large lantern of painted silk hanging down from the eaves. He jumped down, lit the candle inside with his tinderbox, and held up the lantern for his father to see.

'It took Big Sister and me two days to make this, sir!' he said proudly. 'Therefore we didn't want Ah-kuei to spoil it. We like the Immortal Lee, he is such a pathetic, ugly old fellow!’

Pointing at the figure the children had painted on the lantern, the judge asked: 'Do you know his story?' When the boy shook his head, his father continued: 'Many, many years ago Lee was a very handsome young alchemist who had read all books and mastered all magic arts. He could detach his soul from his body and then float at will in the clouds, leaving his empty body be­hind, to resume it when he came down to earth again. One day, however, when Lee had carelessly left his body lying in a field, some farmers came upon it. They thought it was an abandoned corpse, and burned it. So when Lee came down, he found his own beautiful body gone. In despair he had to enter the corpse of a poor old crippled beggar which happened to be lying by the roadside, and Lee had to keep that ugly shape for ever. Although later he found the Elixir of Life, he could never undo that one mistake, and it was in that form that he entered the ranks of the Eight Immortals: Lee with the Crutch, the Immortal Beggar.'

The boy put the lantern down. 'I don't like him anymore!' he said with disdain. 'I'll tell Big Sister that Lee was a fool who only got what he deserved!’

He knelt down, wished his father and Hoong good night, and scurried away.

Judge Dee looked after him with an indulgent smile. He took up the lantern to blow out the candle inside. But suddenly he checked himself. He stared at the tall figure of the Immortal Beggar projected on the plaster wall. Then he tentatively turned the lantern round, as it would turn in the draught. He saw the ghostly shadow of the crippled old man move slowly along the wall, then disappear into the garden.

With a deep sigh the judge blew the candle out and put the lantern back on the floor. He said gravely to Sergeant Hoong, 'You were right after all, Hoong! All our doubts are solved — at least those about the mortal beggar. He was a fool. As to the Immortal Beggar — I am not too sure.' He rose and added with a wan smile, 'If we measure our knowledge not by what we know but by what we don't, we are just ignorant fools, Hoong, all of us! Let's go now and join my ladies.'