The Willow Pattern

XVII

'I received the impression,' Tao Gan said in his cautious manner, 'that Mrs Mei made an excellent hostess. A digni­fied widow, I must say. Ex-courtesan or not.'

Judge Dee did not reply. Dusk had fallen. They were sitting at the balustrade of the western terrace of the Mei residence. From this platform, raised two feet above the level of the garden, they had a magnificent view of the flowering trees planted along the meandering footpaths that criss­crossed the garden right up to the moss-covered wall in the rear. Beyond the garden wall loomed the roofs and turrets of the old city, black silhouettes against the grey, threaten­ing sky.

From the reception hall behind them came the monotonous chant of the Buddhist monks. Seated in front of the high bier where Mei was lying in state, they recited the service of the dead, punctuating their chant with sharp raps on their skull-shaped wooden hand-gongs. The dead man's cousin had received the few mourners that had been able to come, mostly representatives of the charitable institutions that Mei had endowed, and a sprinkling of notables. Mrs Mei had stood modestly in the background, very tall and slender in her white mourning robe. From the high rafters overhead hung a profusion of white banners, proclaiming in large letters the many virtues of the deceased. Judge Dee had paid his last respect to the dead man by adding a pinch of pow­dered incense to the large bronze burner that stood on the altar table in front of the bier. Soon after that, however, he had taken Tao Gan outside to the garden terrace, for the pungent smell of the strong Indian incense had given him a dull headache. The air in the garden was just as close as inside, but the quiet, deserted terrace was a pleasant change after the crowded hall.

'Strange,' Judge Dee spoke up suddenly. 'I had tea with Mei here on this terrace only three weeks ago. He told me that he had personally supervised the lay-out of this garden. He was a man of many talents. How well those clusters of bamboo are placed, harmonizing with the mossy stones in the rear!' He looked up at the almond trees, laden with white blossoms that spread a subtle fragrance, and pursued: 'It seems so incongruous, Tao Gan. This profusion of fresh flowers in this city of the dead.' He heaved a sigh, and said smoothing his long beard, 'You spoke of Mrs Mei, just now. Yes, she is a remarkable woman. I wonder what her plans are. I advised her to close down this mansion, and to move to their mountain villa.'

'I think she has decided to move to another city, sir. The cousin has brought a few maidservants along. They are now packing Mrs Mei's personal belongings.'

'Well, Mr Mei possessed a house in nearly every major city, so his widow can pick and choose.' He paused to reflect. After a while he said: 'I had been planning to have a look at the scene of Merchant Mei's accident, some time. Since we are here, we might as well do it now. Especially since Mrs Mei is planning to leave, as you just told me. Most of the mourners will have gone by now, and ...' Suddenly he broke off and laid his hand on Tao Gan's arm. 'Look!' he said in a tense voice.

He pointed at a few white almond blossoms that came fluttering down from the branches overhead. Slowly they settled on the marble balustrade of the terrace. The judge rose, and lifted his hand.

'There does indeed seem to be a little movement in the air!'

Narrowing his eyes Tao Gan peered up at the sky.

'Yes, that big dark cloud there does seem to have shifted a bit, sir!’

'Heaven grant that this means a change of weather!' the judge said fervently. 'Come along, let's go and find the housemaster.'

They went inside. In the front courtyard a few guests were still standing about in small groups, talking in under­tones. The judge went straight to the housemaster, who was hovering near the gate. He told him to take them to the main hall of the east wing.

The old man led them through a long corridor to a hall of impressive dimensions. In the centre a monumental marble staircase descended from the floor above, where there was a gallery lined by a red-lacquered balustrade, consisting of lattice-work of an intricate design. Still higher there was a kind of dome, crossed by two heavy rafters. From these hung an enormous red lampion that filled the entire hall with an agreeable diffuse light. The staircase was built in antique style, quite steep, and with marble bannisters only two feet high. At regular intervals the bannisters had newels, their tops carved into the shape of a lotus bud. The white-plastered wall on either side of the staircase was decorated by large silk hangings, embroidered with mythical representations. On the other side was a round door opening, a so-called moon door, its panels of lattice work pasted over with thin white silk. Beside the moon door stood a high wall table of carved ebony, carrying a flower vase.

The housemaster pointed at the left newel, at the bottom of the stairs.

'The master was found here, my lord,' he said in a hushed voice.

The judge nodded and looked up at the flight of white stairs.

'Very steep indeed,' he remarked. 'Mr Mei's library is somewhere upstairs, I suppose?'

'Indeed, my lord. It is the largest room of those lining the gallery, right opposite the head of the stairs. The other rooms up there are smaller, and used mainly for storage.'

Craning his neck the judge looked with interest at the colossal red lampion. On either side was written one large character, the one reading 'Good Luck', the other 'Prosperity'.

'How do you manage to light that lampion?' he asked curiously.

'Oh, that's quite simple, my lord! Every evening at seven o'clock I go up to the gallery, and haul the lampion towards me with a long, hooked stick. I remove the stumps of the burned-down candles, and replace them with new ones. I use thick temple candles, which last till about midnight.'

Tao Gan had been feeling with his thin fingers the pointed top of the newel at the foot of the stairs. 'Even if Mr Mei's head had not struck this newel,' he remarked, 'the fall alone would have sufficed to kill him. Hitting his head on the edge of one of the steps, or on the marble floor down here would have been fatal, from that height.'

The judge nodded. He glanced at the three characters inscribed on the wooden board over the moon door. They read 'Abode of Elegant Leisure'. 'Excellent calligraphy,' he remarked.

'They were written by my late husband,' a soft voice spoke up. It was Mrs Mei. Doctor Lew stood beside her. He made a low bow.

'The staircase is very steep indeed, madam,' Judge Dee said. And the bannisters are too low to take hold of, should one miss one's step.'

'I do not think, my lord, that higher bannisters would have saved Mr Mei,' Doctor Lew observed. 'He must have had a stroke when about to descend. Most probably he was already dead when his head hit the newel.'

The judge turned to Mrs Mei.

'Could we perhaps see your late husband's library, madam? I would like very much to see the place where my valued friend used to read and write.'

It was a courteous request. But Tao Gan did not fail to notice the hard glint in Judge Dee's eyes. He wondered what the judge had just heard or seen that had put him suddenly on the alert.

'Certainly, sir!’ Mrs Mei said. She gave a sign to the housemaster, who preceded them upstairs. 'Be careful, my lord!' he warned the judge when he stepped onto the gallery. 'There's still some wax on the floor, from the candle my master let drop there.' He cast a timid glance at Mrs Mei, who was coming up behind the judge, and added: 'I had meant to clean up here myself, but with my illness ...'

Shaking his head he pushed the double door open and ushered the judge and Tao Gan into a large room, dimly lit by the red lampion in the hall. Judge Dee saw vaguely that the walls on the left and right were covered from floor to ceiling by solid antique bookcases of polished ebony. Against the back wall stood a broad couch of the same material, on top of it a thick reed mat and a white silk pillow. On the wall above the couch hung a large painting of the Abode of the Immortals, darkened by age.

Judge Dee went to the desk of carved ebony that stood in the centre of the thick-piled dark-blue carpet and sat down in the large armchair behind it, facing the door. On his left stood a high floor-lamp, with a pear-shaped shade of white silk. He took up the book that was lying open on the desk, but found that the light coming through the door was in­sufficient to read by. 'Light the floor-lamp for me,' he told the housemaster.

While the old man lit the lamp with his tinderbox, the judge leafed the book through. Now he put it down and said to Mrs Mei, who had remained standing by the door, together with Doctor Lew:

'Here is another proof of your husband's devotion to public welfare, madam. This book, the last he read before his demise, is a medical treatise on how to combat epidemic diseases. Truly a great man!’

He bent over the desk, and began to examine all the writing implements and small ornaments with meticulous care. He took up the ink-slab, a small oval piece of stone of about half an inch thick, and admired the delicate carving of the tiny plumblossoms that decorated the rim. Passing his finger over the perfectly clean surface of the stone, he made an appreciative remark on its fine quality. Then he looked at the white, new writing-brush, the small paper­weight of green jade, and the water container of white por­celain. He did all this in a casual manner. But Tao Gan realized that the judge was looking for something. Peering over his shoulder, his hands behind his back, the thin man followed every movement. But try as he might, he could not guess what exactly the judge was trying to find.

At last Judge Dee got up. He cast a last, sweeping glance at the room and said with satisfaction:

'Everything here breathes a spirit of antique elegance.' Tao Gan had come to know his chief very well. He con­cluded from his mien that he had not found what he had expected to discover in the library.

They went down the marble staircase. When they were standing in the hall again, Mrs Mei said:

'My cousin is waiting in the front hall, my lord. Tea and refreshments are served there. I hope your lordship will allow me to retire now, I ...'

The judge did not seem to have heard her. Pointing at the moon door, he asked the housemaster:

'What is the room over there used for?'

'It's our best guest-room, sir. It's rarely used, only for the master's old friends, as a matter of fact. It's not large, but it offers complete privacy. For it has a door that gives access to the side garden, connected with the street outside by a small gate. Thus the guests can come and go as they like.'

'Show me that room,' the judge said curtly.

'It'll be very untidy, my lord!’ Mrs Mei protested. 'No one has used it these last weeks, and the maids ...'

Judge Dee had already gone to the moon door and pushed its lattice door open. He remained standing just beyond the threshold, his arms folded in his wide sleeves. He took in the enormous bedstead on the left, closed by blue satin cur­tains that hung down to the white marble floor from the elaborately carved ebony canopy, high up under the raftered ceiling. The bedstead was flanked by a clothes-rack and a washing-stand with a brass basin. When his eye fell on the large dressing-table against the wall opposite, beside a narrow door, he walked straight over to it, followed on his heels by Tao Gan.

The judge cast a cursory glance at the round mirror of polished silver on its black lacquered stand, but the row of small porcelain boxes containing cosmetics seemed to arouse his interest. He opened every one of them, inspecting the powder and different kinds of rouge inside. He seemed com­pletely oblivious of Mrs Mei and Doctor Lew, who were standing by the bedstead, watching Judge Dee with blank faces. The judge now directed his attention to the set for painting eyebrows beside the mirror: a large, square ink-slab of more than two inches thick and five inches square, a thin writing-brush, the cake of ink on its small wooden stand, and the silver water container for moistening the ink-slab prior to rubbing the ink. The surface of the slab was caked with dried ink, and the tip of the brush was black.

He turned round, walked over to the bedstead and parted the blue curtains. A crumpled white silk cover was lying across the bedmat, a red brocade pillow was pushed into a corner. There was a smell of stale cosmetics.

JUDGE DEE IN THE GUEST ROOM OF THE MEI MANSION

Mrs Mei beckoned the housemaster, who had remained outside.

Tell the maids to have this room cleaned and aired at once!’ she told him in a vexed voice.

The housemaster came hurriedly inside.

'Certainly, madam! Is there something wrong, my lord?’ He stared, astonished, at the judge. About to close the bed-curtains again, he had all of a sudden checked himself. He was standing stock-still, his eyes on the floor. Now he stooped, lifted the left curtain's seam, and scrutinized the marble flag just underneath, directly beside the heavy front leg of the bedstead, carved in the shape of a huge lion's paw. Righting himself, he curtly told Tao Gan:

'Have a look at those grey stains on the marble!'

Tao Gan squatted. He wetted the tip of his forefinger and rubbed the stains. He stood up and said:

'It's ink, sir. Old stains. They have been wiped off, but the ink had soaked into the marble. They ought to be scrubbed with sand, then they'd disappear completely.'

Judge Dee was still holding the seam of the curtain in his hand. Now he brought it close to his eyes and examined the smooth satin. Then he turned it over. Nodding slowly he showed Tao Gan a large, dark-brown stain, on the reverse of the seam.

He let the curtain drop, and looked fixedly at Mrs Mei.

'Your husband died here in this room, madam,' he said coldly. 'Murdered.'

Mrs Mei's face turned deadly pale. She quickly stepped back, to Doctor Lew, who was standing still as a graven image.

'Yes, he was murdered,' the judge repeated. 'He was struck down by a blow of that heavy square ink-slab on the dressing-table there. His crushed skull hit the floor right here by this leg of the bedstead. The marble was stained by his blood and by the ink that had been rubbed on the slab shortly before it was used as a murder weapon. Blood and ink were wiped up, but the traces of the ink remained. The seam of the curtain had swept the blood, and the red stain on its reverse remained unnoticed.' Turning to the doctor, he added: 'This, incidentally, explains the ink smudges on the dead man's cheek, doctor.'

Mrs Mei remained silent; she was staring at the judge with wide, unbelieving eyes. Doctor Lew spoke up, ner­vously:

'I could think of at least a dozen other explanations for the facts you mention, sir! You are famous for your logical mind, my lord. Surely you wouldn't distress Mrs Mei with a foolhardy statement, based on such flimsy evidence?'

The judge gave him a scornful look.

'Of course I would not do that,' he said quietly. 'The clues found here are only secondary evidence. The main point is that you and Mrs Mei lied to me about the time of Mr Mei's death. You stated that Mrs Mei found her husband's body at the bottom of the stairs in the hall at about ten o'clock. That means that he fell down the staircase before that time. But why should he then have taken a burning candle with him, when he left his library to go downstairs? The hall and the gallery upstairs are lit fairly well by the large red lampion, and it burns till midnight.' As Mrs Mei and Dr Lew looked at him, dumbfounded, he crossed his arms and spoke: 'Mrs Mei and Doctor Lew, I arrest you two for the murder of Mr Mei Liang. Call the soldiers who carried our sedan chair, Tao Gan!'