Necklace and Calabash

As Judge Dee got up, the captain added:

'This attack on you has shocked me, sir. Don't you want two or three of my civilian agents assigned to you, for protection?'

'No, thank you, they would only be in my way. Good-bye, Siew, I'll let you know when I have any news.'

The crestfallen captain conducted him personally downstairs.

Few people were about in the main street, for it was getting on for midnight. Judge Dee fastened the reins of his horse to the pillar by the Kingfisher's entrance and went inside. There was no one about in the hall, but through the lattice screen he could see the back of Mr Wei. The innkeeper stood bent over a large leather box on the floor. The judge walked round the counter and rapped with his knuckles on the screen.

The innkeeper righted himself and turned round. 'What can I do for you, Doctor?' he asked in his dull voice.

'Tell a groom to take my horse to the stables, Mr Wei. After seeing my patient, I went for a ride in the forest and got lost.'

Wei muttered something about keeping late hours and shuffled to the back door of the office. Judge Dee suddenly realized he was dog-tired. He sat down in the armchair beside the desk and stretched his stiff legs. Staring with unseeing eyes at the intricate pattern of the lattice screen, he reviewed the amazing events of that night. He had assumed, as a matter of course, that his sum­mons to the palace had come as a result of information about his arrival supplied by Captain Siew. But the captain had not seen the colonel, and he knew nothing about the theft of the necklace. Someone else in Rivertown must have recognized him, and learned about his alias by consulting the register of the Kingfisher. And that unknown person must have a direct approach to the Princess, for only three hours had elapsed between his arrival in River­town and the Lady Hydrangea sending for him. It was all very puzzling. Somewhere beyond the hall he faintly heard the tink­ling sound of a moon-guitar. The player evidently kept late hours.

His eyes strayed to the open box on the floor. It was crammed with articles of women's apparel. More clothes were draped over the backrest of Mr Wei's chair. On top was a long-sleeved jacket of red brocade, with a rather pleasing flower pattern of gold thread.

The innkeeper came back and told him that the groom would take care of his horse.

'Sorry to disturb you so late, Mr Wei.' Judge Dee felt reluctant to get up, so he added casually: 'I noticed a large brick-shed, opposite the stables. That's your storeroom, I suppose?'

The innkeeper darted a quick glance at him, a nasty gleam in his shifty eyes.

'Nothing of value there! Just old sticks of broken furniture, Doctor. I have a hard time trying to make both ends meet, sir! If you knew my expenses... .' He took the red jacket and the robe from his chair, threw them into the box and sat down. 'I have been kept so busy these days I haven't even got around to sorting out my dear wife's clothes!’ Then he muttered, half to himself, 'Hope the pawnbroker'll offer a good price! Kept her in luxury, I did!’

'I was distressed to learn about your domestic trouble, Mr Wei. Haven't you got any idea who could have seduced your wife?'

'Wouldn't wonder if he were that tall hoodlum that came to my door sometimes, asking for the post of doorkeeper! Lives in the neighbour district.'

'You could file a charge against him, you know.'

'Against him? No, thank you, sir! The fellow has friends in the mountains. Wouldn't like to wake up with my throat cut! Good riddance to bad rubbish, that's all there is to it, sir.'

Judge Dee rose and wished him a good night.

On the second floor it was dead quiet. Upon entering his room, he found that the servants had put up the shutters at nightfall, so that now it had become hot and stuffy inside. He went to open them, then thought he had better not. No use in inviting assassins to a nightly visit. Having verified that the door could be locked by a solid bolt, he undressed and inspected the wound on his fore­arm. The cut was long but not deep. After he had cleaned it with hot tea from the tea basket, he put on a new bandage, then stretched himself out on the narrow bed for a good night's rest. But the close air was oppressive; soon he was drenched with sweat. The mutilated face of the bearded man rose before his mind's eye, and he saw the other dead men in horrible detail. Then he reflected that, for a crippled old man, Master Gourd had shown remarkable resolution and skill in fighting. Strange ... now that he had seen Master Gourd's face clearly in the godown, it seemed vaguely familiar. Could he have met him somewhere before? Mulling this over, he dozed off.