seemed completely absorbed in the gambling.
But when he saw Ma Joong he greeted him cordially and bade him sit down by his side. When Ma Joong had squatted he spoke:
'I thought, brother, that by now you would have invested the copper cash you won from me the other night in buying yourself a nice jacket. What will you do when winter comes and you find yourself unprotected?' Sheng Pa gave him a reproachful look. 'Brother,' he said, 'your language is offensive to me. Did I not tell you that I am a counsellor of the Beggars' Guild? Far be it from me ever to obtain a piece of clothing through a mercenary procedure so odious to me as buying. However, let us get to the business on hand.'
Bringing his head close to Ma Joong's ear, he continued in a hoarse whisper:
'Everything has been arranged! Tonight you will be able to leave the city. The fellow who wants to sell a golden hairpin for thirty silver pieces is a vagrant Taoist mendicant monk.
He will be waiting for you tonight in Wang Loo's tea house, behind the Drum Tower. You will easily recognise him, he said he will be sitting all by himself at a table in a corner. There will be two empty cups under the spout of the teapot in front of him. You are supposed to identify yourself by commenting on those tea cups. The rest is up to you.'
Ma Joong thanked him profusely and promised that when he revisited Poo-yang, he would come to pay his respects without fail. Then he took a hurried leave.
He strode briskly to the Temple of the War God. He saw the Drum Tower silhouetted against the evening sky. A street urchin guided him to a small but busy shopping centre directly behind the tower. He glanced down the bustling street and found Wang Loo's signboard without difficulty.
He pulled aside the dirty door curtain. A dozen or so people were crowded around rickety tea tables. Most of them were clad in rags and a nauseating smell enveloped the place. He spotted a monk sitting alone at a table in the corner farthest from the door.
As he approached him Ma Joong was assailed by doubt. The waiting man was indeed clad in a ragged Taoist cowl. His head was covered by a greasy, black Taoist cap, and a wooden hand-gong hung from his girdle. But far from being tall and muscular, this man was short and fat. Even though he looked sufficiently disreputable with his dirty, sagging face, he definitely was not the type of violent rogue Judge Dee had described. Yet there could hardly be a mistake about this being his man.
Ma Joong sidled up to the table and said casually:
'Brother, since there are two empty tea cups I wonder whether I could sit down with you and moisten my parched throat!'
'Ha,' grunted the fat man, 'here you are, my disciple! Sit down and have a cup of tea. Have you brought the holy book with you?'
Before sitting down Ma Joong stretched out his left arm and let the other feel the package in his sleeve. The stranger's nimble fingers quickly identified the shape of silver pieces. He nodded and poured Ma Joong a cup of tea.
After they had taken a few sips, the fat man said:
'Now I shall show you the passage where the doctrine of the Supreme Void is most lucidly explained.'
As he spoke he produced a dirty volume from his bosom. Ma Joong took the thick, dog-eared book and noted the title was
Ma Joong leafed through the book but failed to see anything out of the ordinary.
'I want you to read,' the monk said with a sly smile, 'the tenth chapter.'
Ma Joong found the place and raised the book nearer to his eyes as if to see better. A long golden hairpin had been inserted in the heart of the book, alongside the spine. The head of the pin consisted of the figure of a flying swallow exactly like the sketch that the judge had shown him. Ma Joong noticed the superb workmanship of the pin.
He hastily closed the book and put it in his sleeve.
'This book,' he said, 'will doubtless prove most illuminating! Let me now return the treatise you so kindly lent me the other day.'
As he spoke Ma Joong produced the package of money and handed it to the fat man, who hurriedly put it in the bosom of his cloak.
'I must leave now,' Ma Joong said, 'but tomorrow night we shall meet here again to continue our discussion.'
The fat man mumbled some polite words and Ma Joong rose and left the tea house.
Looking up and down the street Ma Joong saw that a curious crowd had gathered round an itinerant fortune- teller. He joined them but took a position that allowed him to keep an eye on the door of Wang Loo's tea house. After a short while the little fat monk emerged from the door and walked briskly down the narrow street. Ma Joong followed him at a distance, avoiding the circles of light cast by the oil lamps of the street vendors.
His quarry strode along as rapidly as he could with his short legs, heading in the direction of the northern gate. Suddenly he turned into a narrow side alley. Ma Joong looked around the corner. No one else was about. The little man had halted in front of a-small house and was about to knock on the door. Ma Joong ran noiselessly up behind him.
Clapping his hand on the fat man's shoulder, he jerked him round and gripped him by the throat, growling:
'One sound and you are done for!'
Then he dragged him farther into the alley until he found a dark corner, where he pinned the monk against the wall.
The fat man trembled all over and whined:
'I shall give you back the silver! Please don't kill me!'
Ma Joong took the package from him and put it back in his sleeve. Then he shook the stranger roughly.
'Tell me where you got that hairpin!' he demanded.
The other began in a faltering voice:
'I found it in the gutter. Some lady must have____________________'
Ma Joong gripped his throat again and cracked his head against the wall. It struck the stone with a dull thud. He hissed:
'Tell the truth, you dogshead, and save your wretched life!'
'Let me talk,' the other implored as he gasped for air.
Ma Joong released his throat and stood threateningly over him.
'I am,' the fat monk whined, 'one of a small gang of six vagabonds, masquerading as Taoist mendicant monks. We live in a deserted guard house in the East City at the foot of the wall. Our leader is a rough fellow called Hwang San.
'Last week, when we were taking our afternoon nap, I happened to open my eyes and saw Hwang San take a pair of golden hairpins from the seam of his robe to examine them. I closed my eyes again and pretended to be asleep. For some time I had been planning to leave the gang, they are much too violent for my taste. It seemed to me that this was the opportunity for obtaining the needed funds. So two days ago when Hwang San came home dead drunk, I waited till he was snoring. Then I felt the seam of his robe until I found one hairpin. He stirred and I did not dare to look for the other one but fled instead.'
Ma Joong was inwardly exceedingly pleased with this information. However, he did not relax his furious scowl. 'Lead me to that man!' he barked.
The fat man started to tremble again all over and whimpered:
'Please don't deliver me to that man! He will beat me to death!'
'The only man you need be afraid of is me!' Ma Joong said gruffly. 'At the first sign of treachery I shall drag you to a quiet comer and cut your filthy throat. Get going!'
The fat man led him back to the main street. After a short walk they reached a maze of small alleys and finally arrived in a dark and deserted area along the city wall. Ma Joong could vaguely distinguish a tumbledown hut which was built against the wall.
'Here it is,' the fat man blubbered and turned to run away. But Ma Joong gripped him by the collar of his robe and dragged him along until they stood in front of the hut. Ma Joong kicked against the door and shouted:
'Hwang San, I have brought a golden hairpin for you!' Sounds of stumbling were heard inside, a light went on
