The Willow Pattern: A Judge Dee Mystery (Judge Dee Mystery Series) Read online

  Iron boots resounded on the cobblestones. A clipped voice shouted:

  ‘Hey there! What’s going on here?‘

  The doctor quickly let the girl go. After one brief glance at the huge man with the spiked helmet, she tightened her grip on the guitar, gathered her long skirt and scurried away. Through the slit skirt Chiao Tai got a glimpse of her bare thigh.

  ‘Can’t a doctor go quietly about his duties?’ the spare man asked angrily. ‘I thought those filthy creatures from the gutter were not allowed to roam the streets, officer!’

  Chiao Tai looked over his shoulder at the two palace guards that had accompanied him and gave them a sign to go back to the gate, Then he hooked his thumbs in his swordbelt and gave the doctor an appraising look.

  ‘Name please!’ he ordered curtly.

  ‘I am Doctor Lew, I live on the east side of this quarter. I ought to report that woman bothering me, but since I am in a hurry I…’

  ‘Doctor Lew you said, eh? Well, that’s he. The Lord Chief Justice wants to see you.’

  ‘A great honour, colonel. Would early tomorrow morning…’

  ‘You go up to his office right now, doctor.’

  ‘I am on my way to see a patient, sir. He may have got the disease, and he is a very important man. He…’

  ‘They are dying like rats anyway, important or not. Follow me!’

  IV

  Chiao Tai ascended the many marble stairs that led up to the terrace on the fourth storey. Slowly, for he had been on his feet since early in the morning. Doctor Lew followed him.

  Judge Dee was sitting at the table, bent over a large map. Tao Gan was standing by his side, a sheaf of papers in his hand. While Chiao Tai saluted, the doctor knelt down on the upper step of the stairs.

  ‘It was a street singer who screamed just now, sir,’ Chiao Tai reported. ‘This man claims she was accosting him. He is the Doctor Lew you wanted to see.’

  The judge bestowed a cursory look on the kneeling man.

  ‘Where is that woman?’

  ‘She fled, sir.’

  ‘I see.’ Leaning back in his chair he told the doctor: ‘You may rise!’

  Lew quickly came to his feet and stepped on to the terrace. He made a low bow in front of Judge Dee’s table, his hands folded respectfully in his long brocade sleeves. The judge observed him for a while in silence, slowly caressing his sidewhiskers. Then he asked:

  ‘What happened down there in the street just now, doctor?’

  ‘I was on my way to see a patient, my lord, carrying my box with powders and prescriptions.’ Lew took out the flat red box and showed it to the judge. ‘When I came round the corner, I saw a woman being bothered by two black men, scavengers employed for the disposal of the dead. After I had chased those wretches away, the woman accosted me. She turned out to be a streetwalker. And instead of saying thank you, she bothered me, my lord! When I told her to leave me alone, she grabbed my sleeve, and wouldn’t let me go. So I had to give her a push, and she began to scream. Wanted to make a scene in order to extort money, of course. Fortunately just then the colonel here arrived, and she ran away.’

  Chiao Tai opened his mouth to speak, but Judge Dee shook his head. He addressed Lew affably:

  ‘I wanted to see you, doctor, to hear more about the demise of Merchant Mei, last night. I am informed that you were present.’

  Lew shook his head, sadly.

  ‘No, my lord, I did not actually witness the unfortunate accident. A terrible loss, not only for——’

  ‘The coroner said you were there!’ Judge Dee interrupted him sharply.

  ‘I was indeed in the Mei mansion, my lord. In the west wing, to be precise. The accident happened on the other side of the compound, in the east wing.’

  ‘Well, tell the entire story!’

  ‘Certainly, my lord. Mr Mei had summoned me early in the evening, just after seven, in fact. He wanted me to have a look at his housemaster. The old man had been going about his duties as usual, but half an hour before he had suddenly felt unwell, and Mr Mei had ordered him to go to bed a t once. In a time like this, one has of course a tendency to think…the worst. I examined the patient, but found it was just a bout of fever, not uncommon this time of the year. Then Mr Mei kindly invited me to have dinner with him. With the housemaster ill, and all the other servants gone up to the mountain villa, Madame Mei attended upon us in person, A most embarrassing situation, I must. say, being served by the lady of the house herself…Well, we rose about nine, and Mr Mei announced that he would go up to his library, on the second floor of the east wing. He said he would read a bit, then pass the night on the couch there. “You have had a heavy day,” he told his wife, “you had better have a good night’s sleep, in the main bedroom.” Mr Mei was a very considerate man, my lord. Always.’

  Lew heaved a sigh, and went on: ‘When I had taken leave of Mr Mei, on my way out I looked into the housemaster’s room, just inside the main gate, and found to my dismay that the fever was mounting. I administered a soothing medicine to him at once, then sat down by his bed, to wait till the drug would take effect. It was dead quiet in that large mansion, normally a veritable beehive of activity. Almost an eerie atmosphere, I thought. All of a sudden I heard a woman scream, over in the east wing. I hurried outside, and in the central courtyard I met Madame Mei, in a terrible state. She——’

  ‘What time was that?’

  ‘It was getting on for ten o’clock, my lord. She told me sobbing that she had just found her husband lying at the bottom of the marble staircase in the hall, dead. While taking me there she told me that she had been planning to go up to his library, to see whether he needed something before she retired. Upon entering the hall, however, she saw him lying there. She screamed and ran to the main gate, hoping that the housemaster would have sufficiently recovered to——‘

  ‘We’ll take that for granted. Did you examine the body?’

  ‘Only cursorily, my lord. His head had struck the pointed top of the left newel, at the bottom of the stairs. I saw at once that the frontal bone had been crushed and that he must have died outright. He must have had a stroke when about to descend the steep staircase, for I saw an extinguished candle lying at the top of the stairs, and one of his slippers halfway down. I have to tell you frankly, my lord, that this was not entirely unexpected. Mr Mei had been complaining to me about severe headaches lately, and I had warned him to take a rest, for he was nearly seventy, after all, But he did not heed my warnings. He insisted upon supervising the food distribution personally, every day, from morning till night. And patiently listened to the laments of all those noisy people too! He was so considerate! A great philanthropist. A terrible loss, my lord!’

  ‘Quite so. What did you do next?’

  ‘I prepared a sedative for Madame Mei, my lord. Then I had a look at the old housemaster, and when I found him sleeping peacefully, I told Madame Mei to leave everything as it was, and went straight to the Municipal Tribunal, to call the coroner. Everybody was very busy there, and the coroner could not be found. Someone told me that he was away, inspecting the communal pyre. So I went home, and repaired to the tribunal again early this morning. The coroner was there, and I took him to the Mei mansion. Fortunately the housemaster had quite recovered, so that he could go and summon the undertakers. The coroner examined the body in my presence. He found that——‘

  ‘Yes, I have seen his report. All right, Doctor Lew, that’s all. I am rather worried about Mrs Mei. She’ll need help in arranging the funeral service and so on. Go there now, doctor, and tell her that I shall send her a few chancery clerks, to assist her.’

  ‘You are most kind, my lord! She’ll deeply appreciate that.’

  Doctor Lew made a low bow, then went down the marble stairs.

  ‘Suave bastard!’ Chiao Tai burst out angrily. ‘What he told you about saving the girl from two scavengers is a damned lie, sir! It was he who was accosting her. Not she him!’

  ‘I gathered as much,’ Judge Dee said
quietly. ‘Not a very prepossessing person, the doctor. That’s why I questioned him rather closely, as you heard just now. And although he is widely known as a learned physician, I didn’t feel like consulting him on one point in our coroner’s report that rather puzzled me. Can you get me that report, Tao Gan? It must be among those papers.’

  Tao Gan rummaged among the documents till he found the official form filled out by the coroner. He handed it to the judge.

  ‘Brief and to the point, as usual,’ Judge Dee said with approval as he glanced through it. ‘Listen!

  Corpse of Mei Liang, male, profession merchant, age sixty-nine. Frontal bone crushed completely by hitting newel-top at bottom of staircase: some grey hair and blood found stuck to the sharp point of the said newel-top. Black smudges on left cheekbone, presumably soot, or black paint. Left and right flank badly bruised, more bruises on legs, back and shoulders. Provisional verdict: death by accident,’

  He tossed the document on the table and said slowly:

  ‘The bruises were of course caused when he tumbled down the stairs. It’s those black smudges I am wondering about.’

  ‘The old man had been up in his library, hadn’t he?’ Chiao Tai remarked. ‘Did a bit of writing there, apparently, and got ink smudges on his face.’

  ‘If you rub the ink-cake on a slab that is not perfectly clean,’ Tao Gan added, ‘the ink will spatter.’

  ‘That could be the explanation,’ Judge Dee agreed. ‘By the way, have your guardsmen sealed off all the sewerholes, Chiao Tai?’

  ‘Those uptown have been closed with iron gratings, sir, Not a rat will get through there. This afternoon our men started on those in the old city. I made an appointment with Ma Joong to go down there together tonight and see how things are getting along.’

  ‘All right. I’ll see both of you later, when you are back. I have to go over a number of administrative problems with Tao Gan, and we won’t be through until midnight, I presume.’

  V

  Ma Joong scowled at the winecup he held in his large hand.

  ‘Tavern of the Five Blessings, they call this hole!’ he muttered to himself. ‘Brother Chiao could’ve chosen a more lively spot. But lively spots are hard to come by, nowadays, that’s true enough.’ He took a sip of the cheap, raw liquor, winced, and set the cup down hard. He stretched himself with a prodigious yawn: he had not had more than a few hours sleep every night, during the last weeks. He was an extraordinarily strong man, however, taller even than Chiao Tai. Heavy muscles rippled under his tight-fitting coat of mail. He did not wear the golden colonel’s badge on his breast, having stuffed it under his helmet, to save himself the bother of answering the salute of every soldier he met in the street.

  Folding his arms, he bestowed a sombre look on the long, narrow taproom, lit by only one oil-lamp of cheap earthenware, on the counter of roughly hewn boards. Cobwebs hung from the low, raftered ceiling, and the smell of rancid fat and stale liquor mingled in the close, hot air. The innkeeper, a surly hunchback, had disappeared into the back room as soon as he had served Ma Joong.

  The only other customer was an elderly man who was sitting alone at the corner table. Studiously ignoring Ma Joong, he seemed engrossed in the contemplation of the gaudily dressed marionette he held in his hand. Two other puppets were lying on the table in front of him. He was shabbily dressed in a pair of patched trousers and jacket of blue cotton, which matched the faded blue of the wall-curtain behind him. His tousled grey head was covered by a greasy black skull-cap.

  The small brown monkey perched on his right shoulder seemed to resent Ma Joong’s stare. It lifted its brow so that the tight skin turned white and its black crest stood on end. Baring its teeth, the small animal curled its furry tail round its master’s neck, and made a sharp, hissing sound. Now the man raised his head, Fixing Ma Joong with a quizzical look, he said in a deep, educated voice:

  ‘If you want another cup, soldier, just shout. The innkeeper is in the back room, comforting his old woman. She is upset, because they took away three dead from the house opposite half an hour ago.’

  ‘He can go on comforting her,’ Ma Joong said curtly. ‘One cup of this rotgut will serve me for a long time to come.’

  ‘Quiet!’ the other scolded the monkey softly. Patting its small round head, he said: ‘This tavern caters for simple tastes, soldier, and for slender purses. But it’s conveniently located, just in between up, and downtown.’

  ‘Takes lots of cheek to call it after the Five Blessings,’ Ma Joong remarked sourly.

  ‘The Five Blessings,’ the other repeated pensively. ‘Money, high office, long life, good health and many children. Why not call this tavern after them, soldier? It’s built against the back wall of the last big house of this quarter. Across the streets the slums begin. So this tavern is a boundary stone, so to speak, dividing the five blessings between the rich and the poor. Money, high office, long life and good health for the rich. Many children, too many, for the poor. Four to one. But the poor don’t complain, not they! One is enough and to spare—for them!’

  He put the puppet down, and detached its head from the rump, with a few deft movements of his long, sensitive fingers. Ma Joong got up and walked over to his table.

  Sitting down on the chair opposite he remarked:

  ‘Nice business you are in. I always like a good puppet show. Wonderful how you people can make warriors fence! What are you looking for?’ The other was rummaging about in the bamboo basket of puppets by his side.

  ‘I can’t find the right head!’ the puppeteer remarked peevishly. ‘I want a real, true to life villain. The body I have here is fine, as you see. Big, strong fellow, with strong appetites. But I can’t find the right head.’

  ‘Hell, that’s easy! All our stage villains have a face like this.’ Ma Joong puffed out his cheeks, rolled his eyes ferociously, and contorted his mouth into a snarl.

  The puppeteer gave him a scornful look.

  ‘That’s because they are only stage villains. In the theatre, all actors and actresses are sharply divided into good and bad characters. But my puppets are more than actors, soldier. I want them to be real human beings in miniature. Therefore I don’t want a stage villain. Do you get me?’

  ‘Frankly, no. But since you are an expert, I suppose you know what you are talking about. What’s your name, by the way?’

  ‘I am called Yuan, Yuan the puppeteer. Of the old city.’ He threw the puppet back into the basket and asked: ‘Do you know the old city?’

  ‘Not too well. I am going there tonight.’

  ‘Have a good look at how people live there, soldier! In dark, damp slums, in abandoned cellars, half underground. Yet I prefer those to the fine houses of the rich. Any time!’ Scratching the furry back of the monkey, he added pensively: ‘The poor are always busy trying to fill their stomachs, too busy to think up cruel pastimes to whet their jaded appetites. Like the richards do, in the large house behind us!’ He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.

  ‘What would you know about that?’ Ma Joong asked idly. The fellow was a bore. He wished that Chiao Tai would come soon,

  ‘More than you’d think, soldier,’ Yuan said. ‘There happens to be a crack in the wall behind the curtain here. It shows you part of the inner courtyards. A gallery, as a matter of fact. You may see strange happenings there, on occasion.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ Ma Joong said testily.

  The other shrugged his narrow shoulders.

  ‘See for yourself!’

  He half-turned on his stool, opened the blue wall-curtain to a narrow slit, and peered through it. Looking round at Ma Joong he said dryly:

  ‘Watch the rich amusing themselves!’

  Curious despite himself, Ma Joong got up and put his face to the slit the puppeteer held open for him. Involuntarily he drew in his breath. Through a narrow, jagged crack in the brick wall he looked into a semi-dark, red-tiled gallery. In the back was a kind of portico, its broad windows screened by bamboo curtains. To the left a
nd right was a row of red-lacquered pillars. In speechless horror Ma Joong stared at the tall, thin man who stood in the centre, his back towards him. He was clad in a black silk gown, and in his right hand he held a long whip. With a queer, measured movement he was flogging a stark naked woman who was lying face down, spreadeagled on a low couch. Her long black hair hung down on to the red flagstones, her back and hips were covered with blood. Suddenly the man stopped, his arm with the whip remained motionless in the air. Two large birds came floating along the pillars, with a leisurely flapping of their long, brightly coloured wings.

  With a curse Ma Joong turned round.

  ‘Come along, we’ll get the bastard!’ he barked. Shaking off the puppeteer, who grabbed his arm, he added quickly: ‘Don’t worry, I am a colonel of the guards.’

  ‘No need to hurry,’ the puppeteer said placidly. ‘Your man is right here.’ With a deft gesture he parted the blue curtain from top to bottom. It had concealed a square box that stood against the wall on a high tripod. Along the front of the box ran a narrow slit.

  ‘That’s my little peepshow,’ Yuan explained. He watched Ma Joong’s disconcerted face with an amused smile.

  ‘I’ll be damned!’ the tall man exploded.

  The other felt with his hand behind the box. ‘I have more than thirty pictures in here. All scenes from olden times. Have another look!’

  When Ma Joong had pressed his face close to the slit, he saw an elegant villa built on the bank of a river, lined by willow trees. Their long, graceful branches wafted to and fro in the breeze. Then a small boat appeared. A man wearing a large round straw hat sculled it slowly along the bank. A beautiful young girl was sitting in the stern. Suddenly the door of the balcony on the villa’s upper floor opened, and a man with a long white beard came outside. Then everything went dark.

  ‘The candle inside has burned out and the performance is over. Since it was so brief, it was gratis.’