The Lacquer Screen

This time Judge Dee entered the tribunal by the main gate. He gave his red card, reading 'Shen Mo, Commission Agent', to one of the guards, together with a small tip, and asked him to have it brought to Counsellor Pan. Soon a clerk came and led him past the chancery to Pan Yoo-te's office.

Pan pushed a pile of official documents aside and bade Judge Dee sit down opposite him. He poured a cup of tea from the large pot on his desk, then began, with a harried look on his face:

'You'll have no doubt heard the terrible news, Mr Shen! The magistrate is nearly distracted with grief. I am really worried about him. This morning he suddenly had the banker Leng Chien arrested, you know. And Leng is one of our prominent citizens. The whole town is talking about it! I do hope that the magistrate didn't make a mistake . . . Everything goes wrong today! There couldn't be an autopsy, as our coroner had left town without even informing us! And the man is always so punctilious! ' He suddenly remem­bered his manners and asked quickly: 'I trust you had a pleasant day, Mr Shen? Did you visit the Temple of the City God? It was rather hot this afternoon, I fear, but I hope ...'

'I did visit a very curious place,' the judge cut him short, 'in the second street to the left of the west gate.'

He closely watched Pan's face, but it was completely blank.

'The second street?' Pan repeated. 'Oh, now I know! You've made a slight mistake. It's the third street you mean, of course! Yes, that old Buddhist chapel there is quite unusual; it's very old, you know. It was founded three hundred years ago by an Indian priest who . . .'

Judge Dee let him tell the entire story without interrupting him. He thought that, if it had been Pan who had spied on the couple, he certainly was a consummate actor. When Pan had concluded his historical dissertation, the judge said:

'I mustn't take too much of your time. Mrs Teng's murder is keeping you very busy, of course. Is there any clue to the murderer yet?'

'Not that I know of,' Pan replied. 'But then the magis­trate may know more. He keeps the investigation entirely in his own hands, quite understandably, of course, seeing that the victim was his own wife! A tragedy, a terrible tragedy, Mr Shen!'

'It will be very sad news for all their friends,' Judge Dee remarked. 'Since Mrs Teng was a poetess, I assume that she belonged to some literary ladies' circle here?'

'I can see,' Pan said with a smile, 'that you don't know the Tengs very well! They went out very little, you know. The magistrate took part in all official functions, of course, but apart from that he kept very much to himself; he doesn't have any particular friend among the gentry here. He takes the view that a magistrate ought to be completely impartial and have no local attachments. And Mrs Teng hardly went out at all. She only used to spend a few days regularly with her widowed sister. The husband was a wealthy landowner; he died young, when he was thirty-five and she just thirty. He left her that splendid country house outside the north gate. The air there did Mrs Teng a lot of good. The maids said she always looked so cheerful and well when she came back from there. And she needed it this time too, for the last couple of weeks she had been in bad health and looked very pale and sad. . . . And now she is dead!'

After a suitable pause Judge Dee decided he would try another direct attack. He said casually:

'Today I happened to see in a shop a painting by one of the local artists, called Leng Te. They said he knew Mrs Teng well.'

Old Pan looked astonished for a moment. But then he said:

'I didn't know that, but it's very likely, now I come to think of it. The painter was a distant relative of the dead landowner, he also visited the country house of Mrs Teng's elder sister frequently. Yes, he must have met Mrs Teng there, of course. A pity he died so young, for he was a gifted artist. His pictures of birds and flowers were excellent. He specialized in lotus flowers, in quite an original style, too.'

The judge thought that this was getting him nowhere at all. He had learned where the lovers could have met, but he hadn't come one step nearer to the main issue, the identity of the mysterious third person involved. And the madame's description seemed to point directly at Pan: tall but thin, the air of authority, the limp ... He decided to make a last attempt. Leaning forward, he said in a low, confidential voice:

'Yesterday you told me much about the historical sites of this city, Mr Pan. Now those are very interesting for day­time. But after dark the thoughts of a lonely traveller naturally turn to, ah . . . more recent art, more tangible beauty, one might say. Doubtless there are a few places here where charming damsels . . .'

'I have neither the inclination nor the leisure for frivolous entertainment,' Pan interrupted him stiffly. 'Hence I am unable to give you any information on that particular sub­ject.' Then, remembering that, after all, this vulgar fellow had come with an introduction from the Prefect, he added with a forced smile: 'I married rather young, you see, and I have two wives, eight sons and four daughters.'

Judge Dee reflected ruefully that this truly impressive record definitely disposed of the possibility that old Pan was a pervert. The mysterious visitor had to be another person, as yet unknown. Perhaps Mrs Teng's writings would supply a clue. He emptied his teacup, then resumed:

'Although as a simple merchant I don't claim to under­stand much of literature, I always read the magistrate's poetry with great admiration. I never saw, however, an edition of his wife's collected poems. Could you tell me where I could find one?'

Pan pursed his lips.

'That's difficult!' he replied. 'Mrs Teng was a woman of a most sensitive disposition, and of extreme modesty. The magistrate told me that he had often tried to persuade her to have her work published, but she always resolutely re­fused, so that he had to give up in despair.'