Poets and Murder

The counsellor conducted Judge Dee all the way to the monumental entrance gate of Magistrate Lo's private resi­dence. Just as the judge was about to enter, a broad-shouldered officer came outside. He wore the black, red-bordered tunic of the Prefecture, the long red tassels on his iron helmet in­dicating that he was a sergeant of the guard. A broadsword was strapped to his back. The judge went to ask him whether he had brought a message from the Prefect, but desisted when he saw the round bronze plaque hanging on a chain from the sergeant's neck. This was the token that he was on special duty, conveying a criminal to the capital. The tall officer hurriedly crossed the yard to overtake Counsellor Kao. Vaguely Judge Dee wondered what important criminal was being escorted through Chin-hwa.

He went to the right wing of the first courtyard, and opened the narrow, red-lacquered door that gave access to the court­yard that Magistrate Lo had placed at his disposal. It was small, but a unity in itself, the high surrounding walls giving it a pleasant atmosphere of quiet privacy. In front of his spacious bed-sitting-room ran a gallery, two steps leading down into the square yard, paved with coloured tiles. In the centre was a small goldfish pond, with a rockery behind it. The judge paused for a moment on the gallery, under the red-lacquered beams of the overhanging eaves, and admired the charming scene. From the crevices of the rockery, covered with moss, grew tufts of slender bamboos, and a small shrub of shining red berries. Over the garden wall he could see the tall maple trees of the park surrounding the residence. A breeze rustled their foliage, aglow with the rich colours of autumn: red, brown and yellow. He estimated it was about four o'clock.

The judge turned round, pushed the sliding-doors of red-lacquered lattice-work open and went inside, making straight for the tea-basket on the side-table, for he was very thirsty. To his disappointment he found it empty. Well, it didn't mat­ter, for presently his two hosts would offer him tea. His im­mediate problem was whether or not to change. Both the Academician and the Court Poet were senior in age and rank, so properly speaking he ought to visit them as he was, in full ceremonial dress. On the other hand, neither of the two was occupying an official post at the moment. The Academician had gone into retirement a year ago, and Chang had resigned his position at Court, in order to devote himself entirely to editing a complete edition of his poetic oeuvre. If the judge visited them in his ceremonial dress, they might take that as an impertinence, as an attempt to stress that he, the judge, was an official in function whereas they were not. Heaving a sigh, he thought of the old proverb, 'It's safer to beard a tiger in its lair than to approach a high official'. Finally he decided upon a long-sleeved violet gown with a broad black sash, and a high square cap of black gauze. He hoped that this dignified but modest attire would meet with approval, and went out­side.