The Red Pavilion Read online

  Ma Joong nodded. He reflected with dismay that anyone could approach and enter the Red Pavilion from outside unnoticed. One moment he thought of passing the night right there, sleeping under a tree. But Judge Dee would have his own plans for action during the night, and the judge had ordered him to find himself a lodging somewhere else. Well, anyway, he had now made sure at least that no miscreants were lying in wait to disturb his master.

  Back at the entrance of the hostel Ma Joong made the waiter explain to him how he could find the Blue Tower. It was located in the south section, somewhere behind the Crane Bower restaurant. Ma Joong pushed his cap back from his forehead and walked down the street.

  Although it was past midnight all the gambling halls and restaurants were still brilliantly lighted, and the noisy crowd in the streets had hardly thinned. Having passed the Crane Bower, he turned to the left.

  Here he found himself suddenly in a very quiet back street. The two-storied houses lining it were dark, and there was no one about. Studying the doorsigns, which indicated only a rank and a number, he understood that these were the dormitories of the courtesans and prostitutes, divided according to their respective ranks. These houses were barred to outsiders, here the girls ate and slept, and received their training in singing and dancing.

  ‘The Blue Tower must be near by,’ he muttered. ‘Conveniently close to the source of supply!’

  Suddenly he halted in his steps. From behind a shuttered window on his left came the sound of moaning. He pressed his ear to the wood. For a while all was quiet, then it started again. There must be somebody in distress, and probably all alone, too, for the inmates were not likely to return there before daybreak. He quickly inspected the front door, marked ‘Second Rank, no. 4’. It was locked, and made of solid boards. Ma Joong looked up at the narrow balcony that ran all along the front of the house. He tucked the slips of his robe under his belt, jumped up and got hold of the balcony’s edge. He pulled himself up easily and climbed over the balustrade. Kicking in the first lattice-door he saw, he went into a small room that smelled of powder and rouge. He found a candle and a tinderbox on the dressing-table. He stepped out on the landing with the lighted candle and quickly went down the narrow staircase, into the dark hall.

  A ray of light came from under the door on his left. The moans were coming from there. He put the candle down on the floor and went inside. It was a large, bare room lit only by one oil lamp. Six thick pillars supported the low, raftered ceiling, the floor was covered by reed mats. On the wall opposite him hung a row of guitars, bamboo flutes, violins and other musical instruments. It was evidently the training hall of the courtesans. The moans came from the farthest pillar, near the window. He quickly went there.

  A naked girl was half hanging, half standing with her face to the pillar, her arms raised above her head. They were lashed to the pillar with a woman’s silk sash. Her shapely back and hips showed red weals. A pair of wide trousers and a long trouser-cord were lying at her feet. As she heard him the girl cried out, without turning her head:

  ‘No! Please don’t …’

  ‘Shut up!’ Ma Joong told her gruffly. ‘I have come to help you.’

  Taking the knife from his girdle, he quickly cut the sash. The girl made a vain attempt to take hold of the pillar, then she collapsed on the floor. Cursing his clumsiness, Ma Joong

  MA JOONG MAKES A DISCOVERY

  squatted down by her side. Her eyes were closed, she had fainted.

  He looked her over with an appreciative eye.’ Lovely wench! Wonder who maltreated her. And what did they do with her clothes?’

  Turning round, he saw a pile of woman’s garments lying in a heap under the window. He got her white under robe, covered her with that, and sat down again on the floor. When he had rubbed her blue wrists for some time her eyelids fluttered. She opened her mouth to scream, but he said quickly:

  ‘It’s all right. I’m an officer of the tribunal. Who are you?’

  She tried to raise herself to a sitting position but lay down again with a cry of pain. She said with a trembling voice:

  ‘I am a courtesan of the second rank. I live upstairs.’

  ‘Who has been beating you?’

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing!’ she replied quickly. ‘It was really all my own fault. Just a private matter.’

  ‘That remains to be seen. Speak up, answer my question!’

  She gave him a frightened look.

  ‘It’s nothing, really,’ she repeated softly.’ Tonight I attended a dinner, together with Autumn Moon, our Queen Flower. I was clumsy and spilled wine on the robe of a guest. The Queen Flower scolded me and sent me to our dressing-room. Later she came there too and took me here. She started to slap my face, and when I tried to ward off her blows I accidentally scratched her arms. She is very short-tempered, you know, she flew into a rage and ordered me to strip. She bound me to this pillar and gave me a whipping with my trouser-cord. She told me she would come back later and free me, when I had had time to think over my shortcomings.’ Her lips began to tremble. She swallowed a few times before she went on: ‘But … but she didn’t come. At last I couldn’t stand on my legs any more and my arms grew numb. I thought she had perhaps forgotten all about me. I was so afraid that …’

  Tears came running down her cheeks. In her excitement she had started to speak with a heavy accent. Ma Joong wiped her tears off with the tip of his sleeve and said in his own broad dialect:

  ‘Your worries are over, Silver Fairy! A man from your own village shall now look after you!’ Ignoring her astonished look, he went on: ‘It was a lucky chance that made me pass by this house and hear your moans, for Autumn Moon won’t come back. Not now or ever!’

  She raised herself on her hands to a sitting position, not minding the dress that had dropped down from her naked torso. She asked in a tense voice:

  ‘What happened to her?’

  ‘She is dead,’ Ma Joong replied soberly.

  The girl buried her face in her hands, she started to cry again. Ma Joong shook his head perplexedly. He reflected sadly that you never knew with a woman.

  Silver Fairy raised her head and said in a forlorn voice:

  ‘Our Queen Flower dead! She was so beautiful and so clever… . Sometimes she would beat us, but she was often also so kind and understanding. She wasn’t very strong. Did she suddenly become ill?’

  ‘Heaven knows! Let’s talk a bit about me now, shall we? I am the eldest son of the boatman Ma Liang, from the north of our village.’

  ‘You don’t say! So you are a son of Boatman Ma! I am the second daughter of Wu, of the butcher shop. I remember that he mentioned your father, said he was the best boatman on the river. How did you come here on the island?’

  ‘I arrived here tonight, together with my boss, Judge Dee. He is the magistrate of the neighbour district Poo-yang, and now temporarily in charge here.’

  ‘I know him. He was at the dinner I told you about. He seemed a nice, quiet man.’

  ‘Nice he is,’ Ma Joong agreed. ‘But as to quiet-let me tell you he can be mighty lively, at times! Well, I’ll carry you up to your room, we must do something about your back.’

  ‘No, I won’t stay in this house tonight!’ the girl called out with a frightened look. ‘Take me somewhere else!’

  ‘If you tell me where! I only arrived tonight, and I was kept fairly busy, didn’t yet get round to finding myself a place to stay.’

  She bit her lips.

  ‘Why is everything always so complicated?’ she asked unhappily.

  ‘Ask my boss, dear! I only do the rough jobs.’

  She smiled faintly.

  ‘All right, take me to the silk shop two streets up. It’s kept by a widow called Wang, from our village. She’ll let me stay there the night, and you too. Help me to the washroom first, though.’

  Ma Joong made her stand up and put the white robe round her shoulders. He picked up her other clothes, and supporting her by her arm, took her to the bathroom at the back of th
e house.

  ‘If anyone comes and asks after me, say that I have left!’ she told him quickly before closing the door.

  He waited in the corridor till she came out, fully dressed. Seeing how much difficulty she had in walking he picked her up in his arms. Following her instructions he carried her out into the alley behind the house, then through a narrow passage to the back door of a small shop. He put the girl down and knocked.

  Silver Fairy hurriedly explained to the sturdy woman who opened that she wanted to stay there with her friend. The woman asked no questions but took them straight up to an attic, small but clean. Ma Joong told her to bring them a pot of hot tea, a towel and a box of ointment. He helped the girl to undress again, and to lie down on her belly on the narrow couch. When the widow returned and saw the girl’s back, she cried out:

  ‘You poor dear! What has happened to you?’

  ‘I’ll take care of that, auntie!’ Ma Joong said and pushed her outside.

  He put ointment on the weals on the girl’s back with a practised hand. They didn’t amount to much; he thought that all traces would have disappeared in a few days. But when he came to the bleeding sores on her hips he frowned angrily. He washed them with the tea and put ointment on them. Then he sat down on the only chair and said curtly:

  ‘Those sores across your hips were never caused by a cord, my girl! I am an officer of the tribunal, and I know my job! Hadn’t you better tell me the whole story?’

  She pressed her face on her folded arms. Her back shook, she was sobbing. Ma Joong covered her up with the robe, then resumed:

  ‘What games you girls play amongst yourselves is your own affair. Within reason, at least. But if an outsider maltreats you, that’s very much the business of the tribunal. Come on, tell me who did it!’

  Silver Fairy turned her tear-stained face to him.

  ‘It’s such a sordid story!’ she muttered unhappily. ‘Well, you’ll know that girls of the third and fourth rank have to take any customer that pays the price, but that courtesans of the second and first ranks are allowed to choose their lovers. I belong to the second rank, I can’t be forced to grant my favours to someone I don’t like. But there are, of course, special cases, like that horrid old Wen, the curio-dealer. He is a very important man here, you know. He has tried to get me several times but I always managed to escape. At the dinner tonight he must have wormed out of Autumn Moon that she had left me tied to the pillar in the training hall, and the odious man came there not long after the Queen Flower had left. He said he would untie me if I did all kinds of sordid things, and when I refused he took one of the long bamboo flutes from the wall and started to beat me with it. Autumn Moon’s whipping hadn’t been too bad, it was the humiliation that counted more than the pain. But that dirty “Wen really wanted to hurt me, he left only when he had me screaming for mercy at the top of my voice and when I had promised I would do anything he liked. He said he would come back later for me, that’s why I didn’t want to stay in that house. Please don’t tell anybody, Wen can completely ruin me, you know!’

  ‘The mean bastard!’ Ma Joong growled. ‘Don’t you worry, I’ll get him, and without mentioning you. The wretched crook is mixed up in some shady business here, and he started as long ago as thirty years back! Nice long record!’

  The widow had brought no cups, so he let the girl drink from the spout of the teapot. She thanked him, then said pensively:

  ‘Wish I could help you, he has maltreated other girls here too.’

  ‘Well, you wouldn’t know about what happened here thirty years ago, dear!’

  ‘That’s true, I am just nineteen. But I know somebody who could tell you a lot about the old days. She is a poor old woman, a Miss Ling. I take singing lessons from her. She is blind, and she has a bad lung disease, but she has a very good memory. She lives in a hovel, over on the west side of the island, opposite the landing stage, and …’

  ‘Would that be near the pumpkin patch of the Crab?’

  ‘Yes! How could you possibly know that?’

  ‘We officers of the tribunal know more than you’d think!’ Ma Joong answered smugly.

  ‘The Crab and the Shrimp are good fellows, they once helped me to get away from that horrid old curio-dealer. And the Shrimp is a formidable fighter.’

  ‘The Crab, you mean.’

  ‘No, the Shrimp. They say that six strong men wouldn’t dare to attack the Shrimp.’

  Ma Joong shrugged his shoulders. No use to argue with a woman about fighting. She went on:

  ‘As a matter of fact, it was the Crab who introduced me to Miss Ling, now and then he brings her medicine, for her cough. The poor dear’s face is horribly disfigured by pock-marks, but she has the most beautiful voice. It seems that thirty years ago she was a famous courtesan here, of the first rank, and very popular. Isn’t it sad that such an ugly old woman once was a great courtesan? It makes you think that some day you yourself …’

  Her voice trailed off. In order to cheer her up Ma Joong began to talk about their village. It turned out that he had met her father once, in his shop on the marketplace. She said that later he had got into debt, and thus had had to sell his two daughters to a procurer.

  The widow Wang came back with new tea and a platter of dried melon seeds and candy. They had an animated conversation about people they knew. When the widow had set out on a long story about her husband, Ma Joong suddenly noticed that Silver Fairy had fallen asleep.

  ‘We’d better call it a day, auntie!’ he said to the widow. ‘I’ll have to leave here tomorrow morning before dawn. Don’t bother about breakfast, I’ll pick up a few oil cakes in a street stall. Tell the girl that I’ll try to pass by here again about noon.’

  After the widow had gone down Ma Joong loosened his belt, stepped out of his boots and stretched himself out on the floor in front of the bed, his head on his folded arms. He was accustomed to sleeping in unusual places; soon he was snoring loudly.

  Chapter 7

  IN THE RED PAVILION Judge Dee didn’t find it so easy to get sleep on the floor. The red rug was but a poor substitute for the thick, springy bedmat of soft reed he was accustomed to. It took a long time before he dozed off.

  But he didn’t sleep well. He was visited by strange dreams, reflecting the uneasy thoughts about the Red Room that had flashed through his mind just before he laid himself down. He had lost his way in a dense, dark forest and was trying frantically to find a path through the thorny undergrowth. Suddenly something cold and scaly fell onto his neck. He grabbed the writhing thing, then threw it away with a curse. It was a large centipede. The animal must have bitten him, for he suddenly felt dizzy, everything grew black. When he came to he found himself lying on the bedstead of the Red Room, gasping for air. A formless dark shape was looming over him, pressing him down relentlessly and enveloping him in a foul, putrid smell. A black tentacle began to grope for his throat in the slow but purposeful manner of a blind beast that knows its prey can’t escape. When he was nearly suffocating, the judge woke up with a start, drenched in perspiration.

  He sighed with relief when he realized that it had only been a nightmare. He was going to sit up to wipe off his streaming face, when he suddenly checked himself. There was indeed a nauseating smell in the room, and the candles were no longer burning. At the same time he saw out of the corner of his eye a dark shape flitting past the barred window, faintly lit by the light from the park.

  For one brief moment he thought he was dreaming again, then knew that he was fully awake. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. Lying perfectly still, he peered intently at the window and the black shadows round it. He strained his ears. Then a furtive scratching came from the bedstead, followed by a flapping sound, near the ceiling above his head. At the same time a floorboard creaked, outside on the veranda.

  Noiselessly the judge got up from the floor and remained there in a crouching position, his sword ready. When all remained silent, he suddenly leaped up and stood himself with his back to t
he wall, opposite the bedstead. A quick look around convinced him that the room was empty. The table was still standing against the door, where he had put it. In three strides he was over at the barred window. The veranda was deserted. The wistaria clusters were swinging to and fro in the breeze that had got up.

  Sniffing the air, he noticed that the offensive smell was still there. But now he thought it might well have been caused by the smoke of the two candles, snuffed out by the draught.

  He opened his tinderbox, relighted the candles, and took one over to the bedstead. He could see nothing unusual there. After he had kicked against one of the legs, he thought he could hear a faint sound of scratching again. It might be mice. Raising the candle he scrutinized the thick roofbeams. The flapping sound might have been caused by a bat that had been hanging there, and now had flown outside through the barred window. Only the dark shape he had seen there had been much larger than any bat could be. Sadly shaking his head, he pushed the table away from the door, and crossed the antechamber into the sitting-room.

  The door leading to the veranda was wide open, as he had purposely left it to let the cool night air in. He stepped out on the veranda, and tested the floorboards with his foot. One of the boards in front of the barred window creaked, making exactly the same sound as he had heard.

  He went to stand at the balustrade, looking out over the deserted park. The cool breeze moved the garlands of coloured lampions. It must be long past midnight now; no sound came from the park restaurant, but some of its second-floor windows were still lit. He reflected that the extinguished candles, the smell, the dark shape, and the scratching and flapping could all have a perfectly innocent explanation. But the creaking floorboard proved that something or someone had passed by the barred window.

  The judge pulled his thin under-robe closer to him and went inside. He stretched himself out on the couch in the sitting-room. Now his fatigue asserted itself, soon he sank into a dreamless sleep.