The Emperor's Pearl

XVI

Dusk had fallen when the perspiring chair coolies put Judge Dee's large official palankeen down in the front court­yard. Six enormous lanterns of oiled paper hung from the eaves of the surrounding buildings, each bearing in large red letters the legend: 'Kou's Residence'. Their light shone on Kou Yuan-liang's anxious face as he came running towards the palankeen, accompanied by his house steward. The two men had been standing in the courtyard for a long time, waiting for the magistrate's arrival.

Judge Dee descended from the palankeen, followed by Ser­geant Hoong. Mr Kou made his deepest obeisance. The judge nodded, then addressed him affably:

'I am sorry that urgent official business detained me in the tribunal, Mr Kou! Mr Kwang and Dr Pien have arrived already, I suppose?'

'Indeed, Your Honour. We were getting worried, sir; we feared that the storm might start while Your Honour was still on the way here.' As there was a flash of lightning, followed by a low rumble, he added quickly: 'This way, please!' and hurriedly conducted them inside.

He took Judge Dee and the sergeant through the winding corridor to his library in the back of the compound.

When the judge stepped inside he saw with satisfaction that the library was exactly as he remembered it from the previous evening. The large, sparsely furnished room was lit by six tall candelabras, arranged in three pairs between the four windows in the back wall. To the left of the door stood a large cabinet with a fine display of antique porcelain and foreign glass. The wall on the right was taken up entirely by high racks, loaded with books and manuscript rolls. A thick-piled blue carpet covered the floor. In the centre stood a heavy square table of polished ebony, and four chairs of the same material. Dr Pien and Mr Kwang were sitting at the round tea-table in the farthest corner, by the window on the right.

They rose hastily and came to meet the judge, Dr Pien supporting himself on a bamboo stick. Judge Dee was glad to see that the long wait in the hot, close room had evidently upset the two men. Their faces were haggard in the candle­light and their thin summer robes clung to their wet shoulders. He called out jovially:

'Resume your seats please, gentlemen! Glad to see you are doing well, doctor. You should be careful though, don't move about too much!' He took his seat at the tea-table, and continued: 'I am so sorry to have kept you waiting, but you know how it is, in the tribunal . . .' Cutting short the polite murmurs of Mr Kou, he told him: 'My assistant shall help your steward with the tea, Mr Kou. It's a bit hot here, I must say, but you were right in keeping the win­dows shuttered. We'll have a real tempest before long, I dare say. But, taking all in all, we shouldn't complain about the climate here, you know. When I think of the severe winters up north . . .'

There was a further exchange of polite remarks while the steward and Hoong served tea. The judge took a sip and said with a broad smile:

'This tea is truly excellent, Mr Kou! As one would expect in the house of a man of such elegant taste!'

Seeing Judge Dee's high good humour the others had visibly brightened up. Dr Pien wiped the moisture from his forehead and asked:

'Is there any news about the rascal who assaulted me, Your Honour?'

'Not yet, Dr Pien, but my men are at it. Don't worry, we'll get the scoundrel!'

'I deeply regret to cause this extra trouble,' the doctor said contritely. 'Your Honour must be very busy just now, with that astounding mur —' He broke off in the middle of the word, cast a quick glance at Kou, and corrected him­self: '— with other, graver matters.'

'Yes, I am being kept very busy indeed. And that brings me to the purpose of the present conference. I have requested you to come here, gentlemen, because I am in need of your advice.' Turning to Kou, he went on: 'I trust that you'll forgive me for choosing your residence, during these sad days of mourning. But since you are so directly concerned in the awful tragedy, I hope that you will . . .' He did not finish his sentence. As Kou gravely inclined his head, the judge went on: 'You can tell your steward to leave, Mr Kou. I see that refreshments are standing ready on the side-table. My assistant will attend upon us.'

Judge Dee waited till the steward had left. Then he leaned forward in his chair and resumed:

'I have always taken the view that a magistrate should share his problems with the notables of his district, so as to be able to profit by their knowledge and experience, and to solicit their advice.' He bestowed a smile upon Kwang and added: 'It's true that you are not a resident, Mr Kwang, but since you visit our district so frequently, I took the liberty of including you too.' Ignoring Dr Pien's astonished look, he continued: 'I don't mind telling you frankly, gentlemen, that I am badly needing your advice now. Four murders have been committed in our city, and I am com­pletely in the dark as to the identity of the person who is responsible for these foul crimes. A detailed investigation is indicated. The purpose of this conference is to draw up together the lines along which my inquiries might be most profitably conducted. I expect that it will take many days before we can hope for results, but that does not matter. Slow but sure, eh, as the saying goes.'

Kwang raised his thin eyebrows.

'Does that mean, sir,' he asked, 'that I shall have to stay here in Poo-yang all that time?'

'Not necessarily, Mr Kwang. Sometimes a most baffling case is solved unexpectedly by a lucky chance, you know! Let's have some of those cold fruits, Sergeant! And no talk about business while we are eating, gentlemen, please!'

While they were tasting the delicious slices of iced fruit served by Sergeant Hoong in bowls of antique coloured porcelain, Mr Kou thawed somewhat. When he had emptied his bowl, he related an interesting story about a faked paint­ing. Then Judge Dee told of an amusing case he had dealt with on a former post. He told the story well, and all laughed heartily. Despite the oppressive heat there was a pleasant, relaxed atmosphere now. When the sergeant was about to refill the teacups, Judge Dee suddenly rose and said briskly:

'Now we had better get down to business, gentlemen!'

He walked over to the table in the centre of the library. He sat down in the armchair at the end where he had the windows on his left and the door on his right. He motioned the others to take the three chairs that Sergeant Hoong was placing along the opposite side of the table. Dr Pien took the one in the middle, straight across from the judge. Mr Kwang sat down on the doctor's right hand, Mr Kou on his left.

Judge Dee pushed the large silver candelabra aside so that it stood to the left of him. He said testily:

'Heavens, it's really hot! Put those candles along the wall there out, Hoong! They only make the heat worse! And their light bothers me. I am having trouble with my eyes nowadays, gentlemen. The glare of the sun, I suppose. Let me see whether I have brought my eyeshade along.' He felt in his sleeve and took out an envelope. 'Good gracious!' he exclaimed, 'I haven't even opened this letter! It was delivered to the tribunal just when I was leaving. Marked "personal and urgent", eh? Will you excuse me a moment?'

CORRIDOR

He tore the flap open and extracted a folded sheet of paper. It was a long letter in a very small, crabbed hand­writing. Glancing through the beginning, the judge mut­tered: 'Fellow says that a niece of his, serving as maid somewhere, was abducted and came back sorely maltreated. Well, well, the poor girl must have fallen into the hands of a maniac.'

He read on silently for a while.

'The man says,' he resumed, 'that she got a glimpse of her tormentor. Quite a well-known person here, it seems. Therefore, he says, he hesitated long before reporting to me, postponed it time after time. Since he feels, however, that such things shouldn't be allowed to happen in a well-administered city, he asks for an immediate investigation, suitable measures to prevent . . . yes, yes, we know all that. He should have reported at once, of course. Where does he mention the offender's name now?' He brought the letter closer to his eyes, then shook his head and said: 'Can't find it, never saw such bad handwriting!' Looking up, he added: 'Here, you had better read the rest aloud for me, Mr Kou!'

He made to hand the letter to Kou, then suddenly checked himself. He said with an apologetic smile:

'No, I shouldn't show official letters to outsiders, I sup­pose ! I shall study it afterwards.'

He folded the document up and put it back in his sleeve.

'People should think twice before making such pre­posterous accustations!' Mr Kwang said, annoyed.

'I wouldn't say off-hand it's preposterous,' Judge Dee remarked, suddenly grave. 'As a matter of fact I have grounds for suspecting that the criminal we are looking for is the same type of maniac as this letter refers to.'

Leaning back in his chair, Judge Dee watched the three men across the table. Their faces, just within the cone of light thrown by the candle, had become tight. The agree­ably relaxed mood had dropped away from them.

The judge quietly surveyed the room. Sergeant Hoong had retreated to the round table in the comer. He sat there, staring at the small candle on the tea-tray. The rest of the room was a mass of black shadows. The smell of the snuffed-out wall candles hung heavily in the close air.

Judge Dee let the uncomfortable silence drag on for a while. Casually turning his head, he looked at the door. It was very dark there, he could only distinguish the thin ray of light that came through the slit between door and threshold, from the lamp in the corridor. If someone had been standing outside to listen, he would have set the door ajar; the judge had given him plenty of time. The judge thought that his intuition must have been wrong, after all. That meant that he could now concentrate on the three men in front of him.

'I said just now,' he resumed, 'that I suspect the criminal to be a maniac. A dangerous maniac. I have come to that conclusion because . . .'

He broke off in mid-sentence. He thought he had heard the door being closed softly. He quickly looked round to the right. He saw nothing but the thin ray of light over the threshold. His ears must have deceived him. He cleared his throat and went on:

'I think I have a fairly clear idea of the criminal's per­sonality. Mainly thanks to a curious mistake he made.'

He noticed that Kou was shifting uneasily in his chair. Dr Pien looked fixedly at the judge, his thin lips tightly compressed. The bruised, blue left side of his face contrasted sharply with the pallor of his skin. Kwang had recollected himself, he had now assumed an expression of polite interest.

'Everyone who murders in cold blood,' Judge Dee went on in an even voice, 'thereby proves himself to be abnormal. And if the motive is perverted lust, then such a man is in fact continually on the verge of becoming insane. Such a person lives a terrible life. He must keep up appearances and go on with the normal daily routine, all the time trying to keep under control the compelling urges that torment him. Convicted lust murderers have related all this in their con­fessions. They have described in detail their desperate struggle to retain their mental balance. They said they were visited by horrible hallucinations, that the forces of darkness were constantly lying in wait for them, that the ghosts of their victims persecuted them. I remember one case I dealt with where . . .'

He paused and listened intently. Now he was sure he had heard the door close. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something move in the darkness, over in the corner, between the door and the cabinet with the curios. Someone had come inside. This was a possibility he had overlooked. He had counted on the intruder to set the door ajar so as to overhear what was being said. And that the man would betray him­self only later—much later. But it couldn't be helped now. He had to go on.

'When I interrogated that murderer he maintained that every night the severed hand of the woman he had killed and mutilated came crawling over his breast, trying to strangle him. He —'

'Must have been only a dream!' Dr Pien blurted out.

'Who knows!' Judge Dee said. 'I may add that the man was found strangled in his cell, the morning before the execution. Of course I stated in my report to the higher authorities that he had done it himself, half-crazed by fear and remorse. And perhaps he did just that. On the other hand . . .'

He shook his head doubtfully and considered for a few moments, stroking his long beard. Then he continued:

'Anyway, it explains why in our present case the murderer made that mistake. Was compelled to make it, I should say perhaps — since he risked stirring up forces that are better let well alone. The murder of Tong Mai may have pleased the White Goddess, it may have reminded her of the ancient human sacrifices, when the veins of a young man were cut on the altar before her, and his blood sprinkled over her marble statue. But the murder of the Amber Lady, a woman like herself, and hard by her sacred grove—that seems a reckless taunting of forces we know very little about, really.' He paused, shrugged his shoulders and went on: 'However this may be, I have proof that the murderer made a mistake that can be explained only by a very strange lapse of memory. He is an extremely clever man, but he had apparently completely forgotten that on the scene of the crime he ...'

'Which crime?' Mr Kou asked hoarsely. He quickly looked at the two others, then stammered to the judge: 'Please excuse my . . . my interruption. But ... I mean to say, there were four murders, were there not?'

'There were indeed,' Judge Dee said dryly.

A distant roll of thunder was heard outside.

'You mustn't let this awful weather get hold of you, Mr. Kou,' Kwang Min remarked. It was meant to be reassuring, but his voice sounded unnaturally high in the still room.

'I think I saw the door move, sir!' a worried voice sud­denly spoke up. 'Shall I have a look?'

It was Sergeant Hoong. He had left his corner and was coming up behind the three men at the table.

For a moment the judge did not know what to do. For a special reason he had not told the sergeant that his plan included the possibility of a secret listener. Apparently Hoong had seen the intruder leaving, and had got the wrong impression that he was coming inside. But the judge could take no chances. If the man were still in the room, he must not know that the judge was aware of his presence, else all had been in vain. He said sharply to the sergeant:

'Must have been a trick of the light, Hoong! Go back to your place and don't interrupt me!' He thought he heard the sergeant's cotton robe rustle as he went back to his corner. No, it wasn't Hoong's clothes! The sound came from behind him, he now heard it quite distinctly. It was a slithering sound, as if of silk. Someone was coming up behind him. He quickly searched the faces of the three men opposite, but realized at the same time that they could not see beyond him. His own face was just inside the light circle, the rest must be only a mass of black shadows to them. He would have to be quick.

'Well,' he resumed, 'for the moment I won't dwell on that curious oversight of the murderer. I shall mention another fact that is even more important. The murderer employed as henchman the vagrant student Sia Kwang, and Sia talked too much when in his cups. I have traced a vaga­bond who used to drink with Sia. That man said that Sia's principal employed also another helper. But of a quite differ­ent type. He . . .'

Again Judge Dee heard the slithering sound, now quite near. His muscles grew tense. He had counted on the danger coming from the right, where he could half see an attacker and defend himself. But now someone was breathing directly behind him.

The three men had noticed the sudden change that had come over Judge Dee's face. Pien brought out in a strangled voice: 'What's the matter, sir? Why —'

A loud thunderclap made him give a violent start.

It flashed through Judge Dee's mind that he had better jump up now and grab the intruder who was standing behind him. But no, that person's mere presence was no proof of his guilt. He could say that he had not wanted to disturb the conference, and that he therefore . . . Some­thing was stirring in his sleeve. No, he had to go on as planned. Perspiration was streaming down his face but he did not notice it. He spoke in a voice he hardly recognized as his own:

'That third man was a well-known citizen. Yet he was not only concerned in the murder of Tong Mai, he was also directly responsible for the strangling of the old procuress. She was strangled from behind, her weak, white hand clutched in vain at the silk cutting her throat. She died a violent death, only a few hours ago. If her ghost walks among us now, it . . .'

Suddenly he uttered a suppressed cry. Sitting up in his chair, he stared with wide eyes over the heads of the three men opposite and shouted at the sergeant the pre-arranged question:

'Who is standing there behind you, Hoong?'

Dr Pien turned round in his chair abruptly, Kou and Kwang looked behind them with choked curses. Sergeant Hoong had jumped up, now he came running towards them, wildly waving his arms. Judge Dee quickly took a bulky object from his left sleeve. Placing it on the table's edge he exclaimed, horrified:

'Look! Help me, for Heaven's sake!'

As the three men turned to him again, Hoong stood him­self close behind them, groping in his sleeve. At the same time Kou and Pien let out a scream of terror. Kwang moved his lips spasmodically, but no sound came forth. All three stared aghast at the white hand that seemed to be clutching at the table's edge. The red stone on the forefinger shone with a wicked gleam as the hand slowly crawled towards the candle. It was a severed hand, the wrist ended in a red, ragged stump. It changed its course, now it began making for the three men.

Judge Dee half rose. Dr Pien sprang up, his chair crashed to the floor. His distorted face was livid. His eyes glued to the moving hand, he shrieked : 'I didn't kill her!'

He turned round and stumbled into Hoong's arms. 'Help me!' he shouted. 'I didn't kill her. Only Tong. By mistake! I had been told that . . .' He broke out in convulsive sobs.

The judge had not heard him. Having half risen from his chair, he had turned his head while raising his right arm to ward off whatever danger was threatening him from behind. But he had suddenly frozen in that attitude. He was staring up in nameless terror at the other white hand that had appeared from the shadows behind him, close to his head.