The Lacquer Screen

He buried his face in his hands and started to sob softly, leaning against the door-jamb.

Judge Dee quickly went into the bedroom. He surveyed the broad couch covered with a mat of closely-woven, soft reed. Near the pillow there were a few small bloodstains. Then he looked up, and saw on the wall next to the window the empty sheath of a dagger, suspended by a silken cord. By its side hung a fine old sword in a copper-studded scab­bard, and a seven-stringed lute. The only window, consisting of bamboo lattice-work pasted over with thick white paper, was closed by a cross-bar of carved wood. The only other furniture was a small tea-table, a beautifully carved antique specimen of sandalwood, and two stools of the same material. In a corner stood a pile of four clothes-boxes of red leather, one for each season, richly decorated with gilded flower-motifs.

When he had rejoined the magistrate, he asked softly:

'What did you do after that?'

'That second, fearful shock completely unnerved me. I ran outside, locked the door behind me, and somehow or other succeeded in getting back to my library. While I was still trying to grasp the awful truth, feeling ill and confused, the steward came and announced your visit.'

'I am very, very sorry that my visit came at that terrible moment!' Judge Dee said contritely. 'But of course I had no idea that . . .'

'I humbly apologize for the abrupt manner in which I received you,' Magistrate Teng said formally. 'Shall we go back to my library?'

When they were seated again at the tea-table, Teng said:

'After you had left I recovered somewhat, and the routine of the afternoon session had a calming influence. There was a rather curious case of a suicide which helped to draw my mind away from the fearful tragedy. At the same time, how­ever, I realized the legal consequences. Justice must take its course. I would have to travel to the Prefecture without delay, and give myself up to the Prefect as the murderer of my wife. But what was I to do with my poor wife's dead body, what was I to say to the steward, to the servants? Then I realized how fortunate I was in having you here, a wise and sympathetic colleague. I ordered the headman to go to the hostel I had recommended to you, and to ask you to come and see me. When he returned with the message that you had left for no one knew where, a sudden panic seized me. I had counted so much on your coming, and now you would perhaps return only the next day, or perhaps some mishap had befallen you . . . and I would have to face everything alone. Soon the servants would want to clean and air the bedroom, the steward would ask for the key. . . . I became obsessed with the idea that the dead body had to disappear. When the servants were taking their evening meal, I went to the bedroom, quickly bound up the hair, and wrapped the body in a coat I took at random. Then I carried it through the emergency exit to the back street. It was quite deserted, I reached the ruins unnoticed, and deposited my pitifully light burden in the marsh.

'After I had come back, however, I suddenly realized how foolish I had been. In my agitation I had stupidly overlooked the most obvious means for deferring the discovery of my deed, namely to pretend that I had mislaid my key of the bedroom. This was indeed the pretext I gave the steward when, after the evening-meal, he again asked me for the key. This experience convinced me that my state of mind made me wholly incapable of managing my affairs. I again sent the headman to your hostel, this time leaving an urgent message to come as soon as you returned. I waited here for you, hoping against hope that you would come, despite the late hour. And, thank Heaven, you came! Now tell me, Dee, what should I do?'

For a long time the judge made no reply. He sat there silently, staring at the screen while slowly stroking his long beard. At last he looked at the magistrate and said:

'My answer to your question is: nothing. At least for the time being.'

'What do you mean by that?' Teng exclaimed, sitting up in his chair. 'We must go to Pien-foo, first thing tomorrow morning. Let's now write a letter to the Prefect, to be sent this very night by a special messenger so that . . .'

Judge Dee raised his hand.

'Calm yourself!' he said. 'I examined the body, I saw the scene of the tragedy, and I am not satisfied that we know all the facts. I want proof that you killed your wife.'

Magistrate Teng jumped up. Agitatedly pacing the floor he shouted:

'You talk nonsense, Dee! Proof? What more proof do you want? My attacks, my dreams, that screen there . . .'