The Phantom of the Temple

Early the next morning the heavy hot air still hung over the city of Lan-fang. When Judge Dee came back to his private office from his morning walk he noticed with dismay that his cotton robe, drenched with sweat, was sticking to his broad shoulders. He took the small wooden box from his sleeve and put it on his desk. Then he went to the clothes-box in the corner. After he had changed into a clean summer robe of blue cotton, he pushed the window open and looked outside. His burly lieutenant Ma Joong was crossing the paved courtyard of the tri­bunal compound, carrying a whole roasted pig on his shoulders. He was humming a song. It sounded thin and eerie in the empty yard.

The judge closed the window and sat down behind his desk, littered with papers. Rubbing his face, he reflected that he too ought to feel happy on this special day. His eyes strayed to the small ebony box he had put on the end of the desk. The round disc of green jade that deco­rated its smooth black cover shone with a dull gleam. When taking his morning walk he had seen the box in the shop window of a curio-dealer down town and bought it at once. For the jade disc was carved into the stylized shape of the character for 'long life', which made the box eminently suited for today's occasion. There was no earthly reason why he should be feeling out of sorts. He must take himself in hand. The dreary life in this remote frontier district was making him restive. He ought not to give in to these occasional moods of depres­sion.

With a determined gesture he cleared a space on the desk in front of him by pushing a bulky dossier aside and clapped his hands to summon a clerk. Breakfast would settle the queasy feeling in his stomach. The heat had something to do with it too, probably. He picked up his large fan of crane-feathers. Leaning back in his armchair of carved blackwood, he slowly fanned himself.

The door opened and a frail old man came shuffling inside. He was clad in a long blue gown, a small black skull-cap covered his grey head. He wished the judge a good morning and carefully placed the breakfast tray on the side table. As he began to move the teapot and the small plates with salted fish and vegetables to the desk, Judge Dee said with a smile:

'You should have let the clerk bring my breakfast, Hoong! Why should you trouble to?'

'I was passing by the kitchen anyway, sir. I saw there that Ma Joong has found at the meat shop the largest roasted pig I have ever seen!’

'Yes, that'll be the main dish tonight. Here, give me that teapot, I can help myself! Sit down, Hoong!’

But the old man shook his head. He quickly poured the judge a cup of hot tea and placed the bowl of fragrant steaming rice in front of him. Only then did he sit down on the low stool in front of the desk. He had covertly observed Judge Dee's drawn face. Having been a retainer of the Dee family ever since Judge Dee's boyhood, he knew his master's every mood. Taking up his chopsticks, the judge said:

1 didn't sleep too well last night, Hoong. This hearty breakfast will set me up again.'

'It's a trying climate here in Lan-fang,' Sergeant Hoong remarked in his dry, precise voice. 'A cold, wet winter, then this hot, clammy summer, with sudden cold blasts coming in from the desert plain across the border. You must keep fit, sir. One easily catches a nasty cold here.' He sipped his tea, carefully holding up his long frayed moustache with his left hand. After he had set his cup down he resumed, 'Yesterday evening I saw a light burn­ing here long past midnight, sir. I hope that no impor­tant case has cropped up?'