'Why does Your Honor put Liu before Wang?' Sergeant Hoong asked.
'Because I assume,' the judge answered, 'that there was a love
affair between the dancer and her murderer. If not, she would certainly not have gone to him immediately when he called her, and she would not have gone alone with him to the cabin here. The position of a courtesan is quite different from that of an ordinary prostitute, who has to give herself to anyone who pays the price. One must win the favors of a courtesan, and if one doesn't succeed in that, there's nothing one can do about it. Courtesans, and especially famous ones like Almond Blossom, bring in more money by their singing and dancing than by sleeping with the guests, so their owners don't exercise pressure on them to grant their favors to the customers. Now I could well imagine that Han or Liu, both well-preserved men of the world, could win the love of such a beautiful and talented dancer. And also Soo, who suggests a kind of brutal strength that some women find attractive. But hardly the rotund Wang, or the cadaverous Peng. Yes, I think we'd better scratch Peng entirely from our list.'
Ma Joong had not heard the last words of the judge, he was looking at the dead woman in speechless horror. Now he burst out: 'She's shaking her head!'
All turned to the couch. The head rolled to and fro. The handkerchief had dropped off. The flickering light of the candles shone on the wet hair.
Judge Dee rose hurriedly and went over to the couch. Deeply shocked, he looked at the white face. The eyes had closed. He placed a pillow on either side of the head, and quickly covered it up again with the handkerchief. He sat down and said in a calm voice:
'Thus our first task is to find out who of the three persons mentioned had intimate relations with the courtesan. The best method will probably be to question the other girls of her house; those women usually have few secrets from each other.'
'But to make them tell outsiders about those things,' Ma Joong said, 'is quite another matter!'
The rain had stopped, the boat was going more steadily now. Chiao Tai was looking better. He said:
'I think, Your Honor, that there's an even more pressing task ahead, namely that we search the dancer's room in the house in the Willow Quarter. The murderer had to improvise his crime after he had boarded this boat and if she kept in her room letters or other proof of her relation with him, he'll hurry there as soon as we have landed in order to destroy those clues.'
'You are quite right, Chiao Tai,' Judge Dee said approvingly. 'As soon as we have landed, Ma Joong shall run ahead to the Willow Quarter, and arrest anybody who wants to enter the dancer's house. I'll go there in my palanquin, and we shall search her room together.'
There were loud shouts outside, indicating that they were nearing the landing stage. Judge Dee rose and said to Chiao Tai:
'You'll wait here for the constables. Tell them to seal this cabin, and let two of them stand guard in front of this cabin till tomorrow morning. I'll tell the owner of the dead woman's house to send an undertaker tomorrow for encoffining the body.'
As they stepped out on deck they found that the moon had come out again. Its rays shone on a dismal scene. The storm had blown away all the colored lamps and torn the bamboo curtains of the dining room to shreds. The gay boat now presented a disheveled appearance.
A very subdued crowd awaited the judge on the landing stage. During the storm the guests had fled to the sitting room and the close air there, together with the rocking, had made them feel all the more miserable. As soon as Judge Dee had told them that they could go home they rushed to their sedan chairs.
The judge ascended his palanquin. After they were out of earshot he told the bearers to take him to the Willow Quarter.
When the judge and Sergeant Hoong entered the first courtyard of Almond Blossom's house they heard loud laughter coming from the dining room beyond. Despite the late hour a party was still in progress there.
The manager of the house came rushing out to meet these unexpected visitors. When he recognized the judge he fell on his knees and three times knocked his head on the floor. Then he inquired in a cringing voice the magistrate's pleasure.
'I want to examine the room occupied by the courtesan Almond Blossom,' he said curtly. 'Take us there!'
The manager hastily led them to the broad staircase of polished wood. Upstairs they found a dimly lit corridor. The manager halted before one of the red-lacquered doors and entered first to light the candles. He cried out in terror when an iron hand closed round his arm.
'It's the manager; let him go!' Judge Dee said quickly. 'How did you come here?'
Ma Joong said with a grin:
'I thought it better that nobody should see me enter, so I vaulted over the garden wall and climbed up on the balcony. I found a maid asleep in a corner and made her point out the dancer's room. I waited behind the door here but no one came.'
'Good work!' the judge said. 'You can go downstairs now together with the manager. Keep an eye on the entrance!'
Judge Dee sat down in front of the dressing table of carved black-wood and started to pull out the drawers. The sergeant went over to the pile of four clothes boxes of red-lacquered leather that stood beside the large couch. He opened the one on top, marked 'Summer,' and went through its contents.
In the upper drawer of the dressing table the judge found nothing but the usual toilet articles, but the lower one was full of cards and letters. He quickly glanced through them. A few letters were written by Almond Blossom's mother in Shansi -acknowledgments of money transmitted by the girl, and news about her small brother, who was doing well in school. The father seemed to be dead. She wrote in a polished literary style and the judge again marveled what cruel fate had compelled a girl from a good family to enter such a questionable profession. The rest were all poems and letters from admirers; leafing through them, Judge Dee found the signatures of all the guests who had been present at the banquet, including Han Yung-han. These documents were written in the customary formal style. Invitations to attend banquets, compliments about her dancing-nothing of a more intimate character. Thus it was very difficult to assess the exact relations of the courtesan with those gentlemen.
He gathered all the papers in a sheaf and put them in his sleeve for further study.
'Here are some more, Your Honor!' Sergeant Hoong suddenly exclaimed. He showed the judge a package of letters carefully wrapped up in tissue paper which he had found on the bottom of the clothes box. Judge Dee saw at a glance that these were real love letters, couched in passionate language. All were signed with the same pen name: 'The Student of the Bamboo Grove.'
'That man must have been her lover!' the judge said eagerly. 'It shouldn't be too difficult to identify the writer. Style and hand- writing are excellent; he must belong to the small group of literati in this town.'
A further search produced no other clues. The judge walked out on the balcony and remained standing there for a while, looking out over the landscape garden below. The rays of the moon were reflected in the water of the small artificial lotus ponds among^ the flowers. How many times the dancer would have stood here, looking at this same nostalgic scene! He abruptly turned round. Apparently he had not yet served long enough as a magistrate to remain unperturbed by the sudden death of a beautiful woman.
The judge blew out the candles, and he went back downstairs followed by Sergeant Hoong.
Ma Joong was standing in the portal talking with the manager. The latter bowed deeply when he saw the judge.
Judge Dee folded his arms in his sleeves.
'You'll realize,' he sternly addressed the manager, 'that since this is a murder investigation, I could have had my constables turn your house upside down and question all your guests. I refrained from doing so because for the time being such measures do not seem necessary, and I never importune people without sufficient reason. You shall, however, draw up immediately a detailed report containing everything you know about the dead dancer. Her real name, her age, when and under what circumstances she entered your house, who were the guests she usually associated with, what games she could play, and so on. See to it that your report reaches me early tomorrow morning, written out in triplicate!'
