The Red Pavilion

XVI

Back in the Red Pavilion Ma Joong found Judge Dee stand­ing at the balustrade of the veranda, watching the park guards who were lighting the coloured lampions among the trees. He told the judge what had happened, and concluded:

'The net result is that I know exactly where Miss Ling lives. But she isn't there, so we needn't go. At least not now. Prob­ably her visitors took her out somewhere.'

'But she is very ill!' Judge Dee exclaimed. 'I don't like the idea of her having visitors, I thought nobody knew about her except your two friends and that girl Silver Fairy.' He tugged worriedly at his moustache. 'Are you sure that the Crab and the Shrimp were the intended victims of that murderous attack, and not you?'

'Of course it was they, Your Honour! How could the bastards have known I would be there? They were lying in ambush for the Crab to avenge three of their gang, killed by him during a hold-up two weeks ago. They didn't know about the Shrimp!'

'If that were true, the hooligans must have been aware of the fact that your two friends have the habit of sleeping dur­ing the day and not returning home until dawn. If you hadn't happened to ask them to take you to Miss Ling's hovel, the attackers would have been waiting there the entire evening and night!'

Ma Joong shrugged his shoulders.

'Perhaps they were prepared for that!'

Judge Dee thought for a while, staring at the park restau­rant opposite, where again a feast seemed to be in full swing. He turned round and remarked with a sigh:

'I spoke rashly indeed when I said yesterday that I would spend only one more day on Magistrate Lo's business! Well, I won't need you tonight, Ma Joong. You'd better go now and have your dinner, then amuse yourself a bit. Tomorrow morning we'll meet here again after breakfast.'

After Ma Joong had taken his leave, Judge Dee started to pace the veranda, his hands clasped behind his back. He felt restless, he didn't relish the idea of having his dinner alone in his room. He went inside and changed into a gown of plain blue cotton. Putting a small black skull-cap on his head, he left the Hostel of Eternal Bliss by the main gate.

Passing the front door of the inn where Kia Yu-po was stay­ing, he halted in his steps. He might invite the young poet to share the evening meal with him and ask him more about Wen's scheme against warden Feng. Why would the Academi­cian have given up that plot so suddenly? Had he perhaps decided that forcing Miss Feng to marry him was the easier way to get Feng's wealth into his hands, and without the need of letting the curio-dealer share it?

He went inside. But the manager informed him that the poet had left after the noon-meal, and not come back. 'And the other day I let him borrow a silver piece from me!' he added sadly.

The judge left the innkeeper to his worries and entered the first restaurant he saw. He ate a simple meal, then had his tea on the balcony upstairs. Sitting close to the balustrade, he aim­lessly watched the crowd in the street below. On the corner a group of youngsters were adding more bowls of food to the altar of the dead erected there. Judge Dee counted on his fingers. The next day would be the thirtieth of the seventh moon, the end of the Festival of the Dead. Then the paper models and the other offerings would be burned. This entire night the gates of the Other World would still be open.

Leaning back in his chair, he vexedly bit his lips. He had been confronted with baffling problems before, but then there had been at least sufficient data for formulating some theories and selecting some possible suspects. But he could not make head nor tail of the present situation. Doubtless one and the same criminal was responsible for the thirty-year-old murder of Tao Kwang, and the demise of Autumn Moon. And had that man now also eliminated Miss Ling? He frowned worriedly. He could not get rid of the feeling that there was a connection between her disappearance and the attack on Ma Joong and his two friends. And the only clue he had was that the un­known murderer must be about fifty years old, and a man liv­ing on, or closely connected with, Paradise Island. Even the case of the Academician had not been completely cleared up. Jade Ring's story about how she killed him seemed straight­forward enough, but his relationship to Autumn Moon re­mained a mystery. It was passing strange that nobody seemed to know where their intimate meetings had taken place. There must have been more to their relationship than mere amorous dalliance. It is true that he had planned to redeem the Queen Flower. But didn't his preoccupation with Jade Ring prove that it was some ulterior reason rather than ordinary passion that had made him decide to buy Autumn Moon out? Was she per­haps blackmailing him ? He shook his head disconsolately. Since both the Academician and the Queen Flower were dead, he could never solve that mystery.

Suddenly he started to mutter angrily at himself. He had made a big mistake i The guests at the table next to him looked curiously at that tall, bearded gentleman who seemed to be working himself up into a rage all by himself. But Judge Dee didn't notice it. He rose abruptly, paid his bill and went down­stairs.

He passed Kia Yu-po's hostel and walked along the bamboo fence on its left till he came to a small gate. It was standing ajar, on the jamb hung a wooden tablet, marked 'Private'.

He pushed it open and followed a well-kept path, winding among the tall trees. Their thick foliage screened off the noise from the street. When he had come out on the bank of a large pond, it was curiously still. A gracefully curved bridge of red-lacquered wood led across. While walking over the creaking boards he heard the splashes of the frightened frogs, jumping into the dark water.

On the other side a steep staircase led up to an elegant pavi­lion, raised about five feet above the ground on thick wooden pillars. It had but one floor, the pointed roof was decked with copper tiles, grown green with age.

Judge Dee went up on the balcony. After a quick look at the solid front door he walked round the pavilion. It had an octagonal shape. Standing at the balustrade at the back, he overlooked the garden behind Kia's inn and the side garden of the Hostel of Eternal Bliss beyond, dimly lit by the light coming from the park. He could vaguely discern the path leading to the veranda of the Red Pavilion. Turning round he inspected the back door. A strip of white paper had been pasted over the brass padlock, with the impression of Feng's seal on it. The door looked less solid than the one in front. As soon as he had put his shoulder against it, it burst open.

He stepped into the dark hall and, by groping located a candle on the side-table. He lighted it with the tinderbox that was lying beside it.

Raising the candle high, he surveyed the luxuriously appoin­ted entrance hall, then had a quick look in the small sitting-room on the right. On the left of the hall he found a side-room, furnished only with a bamboo couch and a rickety bamboo table. Behind it was a washroom and a small kitchen. Evidently these were the maid's quarters.

He went out and entered the large bedroom opposite. Against the back wall he saw a huge bedstead of carved ebony, screened by gaudy curtains of embroidered silk. In front stood a round table of intricately carved rosewood, inlaid with mother of pearl. It could be used both for taking tea and for cosy dinners for two. The scent of a strong perfume lingered in the air.

The judge went over to the large dressing-table in the corner. He looked casually at the round mirror of polished silver and the impressive array of pots and boxes of coloured porcelain where the dead woman had kept her powders and ointments, then inspected the copper padlocks of the three drawers. It was there that the Queen Flower would have stored away her notes and letters.

The padlock of the upper drawer had not been closed. He pulled it out but saw nothing but crumpled up handkerchiefs and greasy hairpins which gave off a bad smell. He hastily pushed it shut and went on to the next. The padlock of this one also hung loosely on the hinge. The drawer contained the articles a courtesan uses for her intimate toilet. He slammed it shut. The third drawer was securely locked, but when he jerked at the padlock the thin wood round the hinges that held it splintered away. He nodded with satisfaction. The drawer was stuffed with letters, visiting cards, used and unused envelopes, receipted bills and sheets of blank writing paper, some crumpled up, others soiled by greasy fingers and lip salve. Evidently the courtesan had not been a very tidy person. He took this drawer over to the table and emptied its contents there. He pulled up a chair and started to sort the papers out.

His hunch might prove entirely wrong, but he had to verify it. During the dinner in the Crane Bower the Queen Flower had casually mentioned that the Academician had given her a vial of perfume as a parting present, enclosed in an envelope. She had asked him what perfume it was, but he had answered 'See that it reaches its destination'. Preoccupied with her thoughts about the perfume, she might well have paid no atten­tion to something else he had said just before that, and remem­bered only his last words, which she had taken to be a jocular reference to the vial of perfume. But his words sounded like an instruction rather than an answer to her question. An instruc­tion regarding another enclosure he had put in the envelope, next to the vial. Perhaps a message or a letter which the Aca­demician wanted her to deliver to a third person.

He carelessly threw opened letters and visiting cards on the floor. He was looking for an unopened envelope. Then he found it. He leaned forward and held it close to the candle. The enve­lope was rather heavy, it bore no address, but was inscribed with a poem, in a strong, impressive calligraphy. It was a quatrain, reading:

The judge pushed his skull-cap back, pulled a hairneedle from his topknot, and slit the envelope carefully open with it. He shook out a flat vial of carved green jade with an ivory stopper. Then he eagerly took up the second, smaller envelope that fell out. It was securely sealed, and addressed, again in the Academi­cian's handwriting: 'To His Excellency Lee Wei-djing, Doctor of Literature, former Imperial Censor, etc. etc., for his gracious inspection'.

He cut it open and found one sheet of note paper. It was a brief letter, written in excellent, concise literary style.

To the Honoured Father: Your ignorant and unworthy son finds he can never emulate your indomitable courage and iron will-power, he dares not face the future. Having reached what now shall remain the peak of his career, he must leave off here. He has informed Wen Yuan that he cannot continue, entrusting him with taking appropriate measures.

Not daring to come under your stern eyes, I write this letter to be transmitted to its high destination by the courtesan Autumn Moon. The sight of her exquisite beauty brightened my last days. On the 25th day of the seventh moon, during the Festival of the Dead, the unworthy son, Lien, kneels down and three times touches his forehead to the floor.

Judge Dee sat back with a perplexed frown. The style was so terse that it was not easy to grasp the writer's exact meaning. The first paragraph suggested that the retired Censor Lee, his son the Academician, and the curio-dealer "Wen Yuan had been engaged together in some nefarious scheme, but that the Academician had at the last moment found that he lacked the courage and will-power to go through with it; and that he, unable to follow his father's instructions, saw suicide as the only solution. But that meant that the scheme involved much more than a petty plot of ousting a warden on a trumped-up charge! Heaven knows what weighty issues were at stake, matters of life and death, perhaps even affairs of state! He must again question that rascally curio-dealer, if necessary with legal severities, then visit the Academician's father. He must...

He wiped the perspiration from his forehead, it was stifling hot in the room, and the smoking candle smelled badly. He re­collected himself. He must not go too fast, he must first try to reconstruct the sequence of events. When the Academician had reached his decision and handed the envelope to the Queen Flower, he did not commit suicide after all, because, before he could kill himself, he was killed by the girl he tried to rape. The judge hit his fist on the table. This was sheer nonsense! A man determined to end his life, trying to rape a girl! He refused to believe that such a thing was possible!

Yet the letter could not be a fake. And that the Academician had indeed decided to abandon a scheme was proved by Kia Yu-po's statement made to Ma Joong. Also Autumn Moon's not delivering the letter entrusted to her was quite in character. Whatever her relationship to the Academician might have been, as soon as he was dead the woman had become preoccupied by her next conquest, namely that of his gay colleague Lo. She had thrown the envelope unopened into her drawer and forgotten all about it. Until that night at the dinner, when Lo's defection had made her regret her dead admirer. Some facts fitted, others not. He folded his arms in his wide sleeves. Knitting his bushy eyebrows in a deep frown, he stared at the luxurious bedstead where the Queen Flowers of succeeding years had disported themselves with their chosen lovers.

Again he went over in his mind what he knew about the persons concerned in the three deaths that had taken place in that other bedroom, in the Red Pavilion. He tried to recall, in the exact words, what Feng Dai and his daughter Jade Ring had said. Also Wen Yuan's partial confession, and the addi­tional information gathered by Ma Joong. Apart from the improbability of the Academician's wanting to rape a girl on the eve of his intended suicide, the circumstances of his death had been satisfactorily explained. After Miss Feng had acci­dentally killed him, her father had staged the faked suicide. The scratches on the hands and face of the Academician had been caused by Miss Feng, only the swellings on his neck re­mained unexplained. As regards Autumn Moon's death, her scratches had been caused by Silver Fairy when she tried to ward off the Queen Flower's vicious slaps. In her case the feature still unaccounted for was the blue bruises on her throat. He had a vague feeling that if he could connect those two un­explained facts, the riddle of the Red Room would be solved.

Then he suddenly saw a possible explanation. He jumped up and began to pace the floor. After a long while he stood still in front of the huge bedstead. Yes, he now saw the pattern! Everything had found its logical explanation, including the attempted rape, and the attack by the armed ruffians on Ma Joong! The secret of the Red Pavilion was unspeakably repul­sive, even more horrible than his weird nightmare there, after he had discovered the white, naked body of the courtesan on the red rug! He suddenly shivered.

The judge left the Queen Flower's pavilion and went straight to the Hostel of Eternal Bliss. Standing at the counter he gave one of his red visiting cards to the manager, ordering him to have it taken immediately to the warden's residence, with the mes­sage that the Assessor wanted to see Feng Dai and his daughter as soon as possible.

When he was back in the Red Pavilion, Judge Dee went out on the veranda. Leaning over the balustrade he carefully scrutinized the shrubbery and undergrowth below.

Then he stepped back into the sitting-room and pulled the double door shut. After he had put the cross-bar into place, he also closed the shutters of the window. As he sat down at the tea-table he realized that it would become very hot in the closed room. But he could not afford to take any chances. He knew now that he was dealing with a desperate, completely ruthless murderer.