The Willow Pattern

The judge nodded. He glanced at the three characters inscribed on the wooden board over the moon door. They read 'Abode of Elegant Leisure'. 'Excellent calligraphy,' he remarked.

'They were written by my late husband,' a soft voice spoke up. It was Mrs Mei. Doctor Lew stood beside her. He made a low bow.

'The staircase is very steep indeed, madam,' Judge Dee said. And the bannisters are too low to take hold of, should one miss one's step.'

'I do not think, my lord, that higher bannisters would have saved Mr Mei,' Doctor Lew observed. 'He must have had a stroke when about to descend. Most probably he was already dead when his head hit the newel.'

The judge turned to Mrs Mei.

'Could we perhaps see your late husband's library, madam? I would like very much to see the place where my valued friend used to read and write.'

It was a courteous request. But Tao Gan did not fail to notice the hard glint in Judge Dee's eyes. He wondered what the judge had just heard or seen that had put him suddenly on the alert.

'Certainly, sir!’ Mrs Mei said. She gave a sign to the housemaster, who preceded them upstairs. 'Be careful, my lord!' he warned the judge when he stepped onto the gallery. 'There's still some wax on the floor, from the candle my master let drop there.' He cast a timid glance at Mrs Mei, who was coming up behind the judge, and added: 'I had meant to clean up here myself, but with my illness ...'

Shaking his head he pushed the double door open and ushered the judge and Tao Gan into a large room, dimly lit by the red lampion in the hall. Judge Dee saw vaguely that the walls on the left and right were covered from floor to ceiling by solid antique bookcases of polished ebony. Against the back wall stood a broad couch of the same material, on top of it a thick reed mat and a white silk pillow. On the wall above the couch hung a large painting of the Abode of the Immortals, darkened by age.

Judge Dee went to the desk of carved ebony that stood in the centre of the thick-piled dark-blue carpet and sat down in the large armchair behind it, facing the door. On his left stood a high floor-lamp, with a pear-shaped shade of white silk. He took up the book that was lying open on the desk, but found that the light coming through the door was in­sufficient to read by. 'Light the floor-lamp for me,' he told the housemaster.

While the old man lit the lamp with his tinderbox, the judge leafed the book through. Now he put it down and said to Mrs Mei, who had remained standing by the door, together with Doctor Lew:

'Here is another proof of your husband's devotion to public welfare, madam. This book, the last he read before his demise, is a medical treatise on how to combat epidemic diseases. Truly a great man!’

He bent over the desk, and began to examine all the writing implements and small ornaments with meticulous care. He took up the ink-slab, a small oval piece of stone of about half an inch thick, and admired the delicate carving of the tiny plumblossoms that decorated the rim. Passing his finger over the perfectly clean surface of the stone, he made an appreciative remark on its fine quality. Then he looked at the white, new writing-brush, the small paper­weight of green jade, and the water container of white por­celain. He did all this in a casual manner. But Tao Gan realized that the judge was looking for something. Peering over his shoulder, his hands behind his back, the thin man followed every movement. But try as he might, he could not guess what exactly the judge was trying to find.

At last Judge Dee got up. He cast a last, sweeping glance at the room and said with satisfaction:

'Everything here breathes a spirit of antique elegance.' Tao Gan had come to know his chief very well. He con­cluded from his mien that he had not found what he had expected to discover in the library.

They went down the marble staircase. When they were standing in the hall again, Mrs Mei said:

'My cousin is waiting in the front hall, my lord. Tea and refreshments are served there. I hope your lordship will allow me to retire now, I ...'

The judge did not seem to have heard her. Pointing at the moon door, he asked the housemaster:

'What is the room over there used for?'

'It's our best guest-room, sir. It's rarely used, only for the master's old friends, as a matter of fact. It's not large, but it offers complete privacy. For it has a door that gives access to the side garden, connected with the street outside by a small gate. Thus the guests can come and go as they like.'

'Show me that room,' the judge said curtly.

'It'll be very untidy, my lord!’ Mrs Mei protested. 'No one has used it these last weeks, and the maids ...'

Judge Dee had already gone to the moon door and pushed its lattice door open. He remained standing just beyond the threshold, his arms folded in his wide sleeves. He took in the enormous bedstead on the left, closed by blue satin cur­tains that hung down to the white marble floor from the elaborately carved ebony canopy, high up under the raftered ceiling. The bedstead was flanked by a clothes-rack and a washing-stand with a brass basin. When his eye fell on the large dressing-table against the wall opposite, beside a narrow door, he walked straight over to it, followed on his heels by Tao Gan.