Judge Dee at Work

The attack subsided only after she had taken his fur coat and made him sit down in the bamboo chair at the rickety tea-table. It was very warm in the small dark room; the copper brazier in the corner was heaped with glowing coals. Noticing his astonished glance, she said with a sneer; 'That's the advantage of being a prostitute nowadays. We get plenty of coal, army issue. Serve our gallant soldiers!’

She took the candle, lit it at the brazier, then put it back on the table. She disappeared through the door curtain in the back wall. Judge Dee surveyed the room in the flickering light of the candle. Against the wall opposite him stood a large bedstead; its curtains were drawn, revealing rumpled quilts and a soiled double-pillow.

Suddenly he heard a queer sound. He looked round. It came from behind a faded blue curtain, which was covering something close to the wall. It flashed through his mind that this could well be a trap. The military police flogged thieves on the street corners till their bones lay bare, yet robbery and assault were rampant in the city. He rose quickly, stepped up to the curtain and ripped it aside.

He blushed despite himself. A wooden crib stood against the wall. The small round head of a baby emerged from under a thick, patched quilt. It stared up at him with its large wise eyes. The judge hurriedly pulled the curtain close, and resumed his seat.

The woman came in carrying a large teapot. Pouring him a cup, she said, 'Here, drink this. It's a special kind of tea; they say it cures a cough.'

She went behind the curtain and came back with the child in her arms. She carried it to the bed, pulled the quilts straight with one hand and turned the pillow over.

'Excuse this mess,' she said at she laid the child on the bed. 'I had a customer here just before the magistrate had me called to attend our dinner.' With the unconcern marking women of her profession, she took off her robe. Clad only in her wide trousers, she sat on the bed and leaned back against the pillow with a sigh of relief. Then she took up the child and laid it against her left breast. It started drinking contentedly.

Judge Dee sipped the medicinal tea; it had an agreeable bitter taste. After a while he asked her: 'How old is your child?'

'Two months,' the woman replied listlessly. 'It's a boy.'

His eye fell on the long white scars on her shoulders; one broad weal sorely mutilated her right breast. She looked up and saw his glance. She said indifferently, 'Oh, they didn't mean to do that, it was my own fault. When they were flogging me, I tried to wrench myself loose, and one tongue of the scourge curled over my shoulder and tore my breast.'

'Why were you flogged?' the judge asked.

'Too long a story to tell!’ she said curtly. She concentrated her attention on the child.

Judge Dee finished his tea in silence. His breathing came easier now, but his head was still throbbing with a dull ache. When he had drunk a second cup, Jasmine carried the baby back to the crib and pulled the curtain shut. She came to the table, stretched herself and yawned. Pointing at the bedstead, she asked, 'What about it? I have rested a bit now, and the tea hardly covers what you paid me.'

'Your tea is excellent,' the judge said wearily; 'it more than covers what I gave you.' In order not to offend her he added quickly, 'I wouldn't risk infecting you with this accursed lung trouble. I'll have one more cup, then I'll be on my way.'

'As you like!’ Sitting down opposite him, she added, 'I'll have a cup myself, my throat is parched.'

In the street footsteps crunched in the frozen snow. It was the men of the night watch. They beat midnight on their wooden clappers. Jasmine shrank in her seat. Putting her hand to her throat, she gasped, 'Midnight already?'

'Yes,' Judge Dee said worriedly, 'if we don't start our counter-offensive very soon, I fear the Tartar hordes will break through and overrun this area. We'll drive them back again, of course, but since you have that nice child, wouldn't it be wiser if you packed up and went east tomorrow morning?'

She was looking straight ahead, agony in her feverish eyes. Then she spoke, half to herself, 'Six hours to go!' Looking at the judge, she added: 'My child? At dawn his father will be be­headed.'

Judge Dee set his cup down. 'Beheaded?' he exclaimed. 'I am sorry. Who is he?'

'A captain, name of Woo.'

'What did he do?'

'Nothing.'

'You aren't beheaded for nothing!' the judge remarked crossly.

'He was falsely accused. They said he strangled the wife of a fellow officer. He was court-martialled and condemned to death. He has been in the military jail now for about a year, wait­ing for the confirmation. It came today.'

Judge Dee tugged at his moustache. 'I have often worked to­gether with the military police,' he said. 'Their judicial system is cruder than our civilian procedure, but I have always found them efficient, and very conscientious. They don't make many mistakes.'

'They did in this case,' Jasmine said. She added resignedly: 'Nothing can be done; it's too late.'

'Yes, since he is to be executed at dawn, there isn't much we can do about it,' the judge agreed. He thought for a while, then resumed, 'But why not tell me about it? You would get my mind off my own worries and perhaps it might help you to pass the time.'