Necklace and Calabash

Judge Dee lifted the calabash and looked at it intently. He remembered what Master Gourd had said about the importance of being empty. In order to discover where Tai Min had hidden the necklace, he would have to empty himself, and put himself in the cashier's place. Become the cashier of the Kingfisher, and live his life. The judge closed his eyes.

He imagined himself on the high stool behind the counter in the hall downstairs. Badly paid by his miserly employer, he was sitting there every day from morning till night, his only distrac­tion an occasional fishing trip on the river — a distraction to be in­dulged in only when business at the inn was slack. But there was a daily diversion, namely the sight of the adored Mrs Wei. The innkeeper's wife must have been about in the hall a lot, for according to the owner of the Nine Clouds she took an active part in the running of the inn. The cashier would have snatched every opportunity to start a conversation with her. Not too often, for his employer would see to it that the youngster did not neglect his duties at the counter for long. Sorting out various bills and accounts, adding amounts with the aid of his abacus, and noting the total down in red ink on ... Red ink!

Judge Dee opened his eyes. Here was a point worth noting. Tai Min had marked the route to Ten Miles Village in red ink. The map would be in one of the counter's drawers, for it must be kept near at hand, for the convenience of the guests. And up in his attic Tai Min wouldn't have had a cake of red ink, nor the special ink-slab for rubbing it. That meant he must have marked the map while sitting at the counter. By heaven, was that the answer? He sat up, put the calabash down on the bed, and pen­sively rubbed his neck. He decided to have a look for himself.

The judge went out in the corridor, carefully avoiding the creaking floorboard. The hall was dimly lit by a single lantern above the counter. The clerk had tidied up, leaving only the large ink-slab, a cake of black ink, and a tubular holder with a few writing-brushes. The judge found that the counter had two drawers to the right of the cashier's high stool. He pulled the upper one out. It contained the inn's register, a jar of the thick brown gum cashiers use for sticking bills together, a wooden stamp reading 'payment received' and the red seal-pad belonging to it, and a package of blank sheets and envelopes. He quickly opened the second drawer. Yes, next to the abacus lay a red ink-slab, and a small cake of red ink. Beside it were a water-container for moistening the slab and a red brush. Also a flat cash-box, empty of course — Mr Wei would never forget to empty it before retiring at night. But during the day the box might contain a fair amount of money. He went round the lattice screen. The large clothes-box he had seen Wei rummage about in was still standing on the floor, closed. He lifted the lid. It was completely empty. No robes. And no red jacket.

Judge Dee sat down in the armchair behind the innkeeper's desk. Wei had placed it in a strategic position, for sitting there he could watch the hall through the open-work lattice screen, keep an eye on the counter and all who went in and out of his hostel. Yes, the problem of the marked map had now been solved.

There remained the final problem, namely where the necklace actually was now. He was convinced that the solution to this problem must be sought here in the Kingfisher, and within the small circle of the cashier's dreary, everyday life. Again he im­agined he was Tai Min, sitting on his high stool behind the counter, doing his work there under the watchful eye of Wei. He would offer the register to new guests for signing, and depart­ing guests would ask him for their bill. Tai Min would then collect the various accounts relating to the room rent and other expenses incurred, add up the amounts due on his abacus, and write the total in red ink on the bill (which would eventually be stuck with brown gum to the day's previous bills). After the guest had paid, the cashier would put the money in the cash-box in the second drawer, then stamp the bill 'Payment received', and... . Suddenly Judge Dee sat up straight. Gripping the armrests of the chair, he quickly went over all the facts in his mind. Yes, that was the solution, of course! He leaned back and smote his fore­head. By heaven, he had made the most serious mistake a criminal investigator can ever make. He had overlooked the obvious!