"The gale is blowing tiles from the roof," the poet remarked. "That will be the last of the storm; they usually begin and end with a violent gale."
The two men came to a halt in front of a solid-looking door. It was locked.
"As far as I remember from the plan, Your Honour," Tsung Lee said, "this is the back door of the abbot's bedroom."
Judge Dee rapped hard on it with his knuckles. He pressed his ear to the smooth surface. He thought he heard someone moving about inside. He repeated his knocking. At last there was the sound of a key, and the door was slowly opened a crack. The light of their lantern shone on a haggard face, distorted by fear.
XIV
When the abbot recognized the judge, he seemed greatly relieved, his tense features relaxed somewhat. He asked haltingly: "What … what gives this person the honour…"
"Let's go inside!" Judge Dee interrupted curtly. "There's an urgent matter I want to talk over with you."
The abbot took them through a simply furnished bedroom to the comfortable library adjoining it. Judge Dee noticed at once the queer, cloying smell. It came from a large antique incense-burner, standing on the side table. With a gesture the abbot invited the judge to sit down in the high-backed armchair next to his desk. He himself went to sit behind it, and motioned Tsung Lee to a chair by the window. He opened his mouth a few times, but apparently he didn't yet trust himself to speak. He evidently had received a bad shock.
The judge leaned back in his armchair. He studied the abbot's twitching face for a while, then said affably: "A thousand pardons for disturbing you so late in the night — or so early in the morning, rather! Fortunately I found you still up and about. I see that you are still fully dressed. Did you expect company?"
"No … I was taking a brief nap in the armchair in my bedroom," the abbot said with a wan smile. "In a few hours I'll have to conduct the matins; it … it didn't seem worth while to change. Why did Your Honour come by the back door? I thought that…"
"You didn't think that the old abbot had risen from the crypt, did you?" Judge Dee asked quietly. As he saw the sudden panic in True Wisdom's eyes he added: "He couldn't, because he is very dead. I can tell you, because I have just come from there."
The abbot had now mastered himself. He sat up and asked sharply: "Why did you go to the crypt? I told you that at this time of the year…"
"You did," the judge interrupted him. "But I felt it necessary to examine the papers left by your predecessor. Now I want to verify a few points about his death, while my memory of what I saw is still fresh. Hence my barging in here at this unusual hour. Let your thoughts go back to that last day of your predecessor's life. You had the noon meal together with him in the refectory. You hadn't seen him during the morning, had you?"
"Only during the matins. Thereafter His Holiness retired to his room, as a matter of fact to this very library. It has always been the private quarters of the abbots of this monastery."
"I see," Judge Dee said. He turned round in his chair and looked at the three high windows in the wall behind him. "Those give on to the central courtyard, I suppose?"
"They do," the abbot replied hurriedly. "During the day this room is very well lighted; that's why my predecessor liked it. Its bright light made it very suitable for painting, the only relaxation he ever indulged in."
"Very suitable indeed," the judge remarked. He thought a moment, then went on: "By the way, when I was talking with you in the reception room, an actor came in, and you commented on their careless behaviour. Did you see who it was before he shut the door again?"
The abbot, who had succeeded in taking hold of himself, again became ill at ease. He stammered: "No … that is to say, yes, I did. It was that swordsman, Mo Mo-te."
"Thank you." Judge Dee looked fixedly at the frightened man behind the desk, slowly stroking his long beard.
They sat in silence for a while. Tsung Lee started to shift impatiently in his chair. Judge Dee did not move; he listened to the rain against the shutters. It seemed less heavy than before.
There was a knock on the door. Tao Gan came in with a roll under his arm. After he had handed it to the judge, he remained standing by the door.
Judge Dee unrolled the picture and laid it on the desk before his host. He said: "I gather that this is the last painting Jade Mirror did."
"Yes. After the noon meal I had a cup of tea with him here. Then he dismissed me, saying that he wanted to devote the afternoon to doing a picture of his cat. The poor animal was sitting on that side-table of carved ebony over there. I left immediately, as I knew that. His Holiness liked to be alone when he worked. The last I saw was that he was spreading a sheet of blank paper out on this desk, and…"
Suddenly the judge got up and hit his fist on the table.
"You are lying!" he barked.
The abbot shrank back in his chair. He opened his mouth, but the judge shouted: "Look at this painting, the last work of the great and good man whom you foully murdered by putting nightshade poison in his tea after the noon meal, here in this library!" He quickly bent over the table and pointed at the picture. "Do you mean to tell me that a man can paint such an intricate picture in the space of one hour? Look at the detailed treatment of the fur, the careful sketch of the carving of the table! It must have taken him at least two hours. You lie when you say that he began to paint it after you had left him. He must have done it in the morning, before the noon meal!"
"Don't dare to say that!" the abbot said angrily. "His Holiness was a skillful artist. Everybody knows that he worked very quickly. I won't…"
"You can't fool me!" Judge Dee snapped. "This cat, your victim's pet, did its master one last service! This cat proves clearly that you are lying. Here, look at its eyes! Don't you see that the pupils are wide open? If it had been painted at noontime, in summer, and in this brightly lit room, the pupils would have been just narrow slits!"
A long shudder shook the abbot's spare frame. He stared with wide eyes at the picture in front of him. Then he passed his hand over his face. He looked up into the blazing eyes of the judge, and said tonelessly: "I want to deliver a statement in front of Master Sun Ming."
"As you like!" Judge Dee replied coldly. He rolled the picture up again and put it in his bosom. The abbot led them down a broad stair-case. Below, he said in the same toneless voice: "The storm is over. We can go by the courtyard."
The four men crossed the wet, empty central courtyard, strewn with broken tiles. Judge Dee walked with the abbot in front, Tao Gan and Tsung Lee following close behind.
The abbot made for the building west of the temple, and pushed a door open in the corner of the yard. It gave access to a narrow passage that led them straight to the portal in front of the refectory. As they went to the spiral staircase leading up into the south-west tower, a deep voice spoke up: "What are you people doing here in the deep of night?" Sun Ming was standing there, carrying a lighted lantern.
Judge Dee said gravely: "The abbot wants to make a statement, sir. He expressed the wish to do so in Your Excellency's presence."
Master Sun lifted the lantern and gave the abbot an astonished look. He said to him curtly: "Come up to my library, my friend. We can't engage in delivering statements here in this draughty portal!" Turning to the judge he asked: "Is the presence of those two other fellows necessary?"
"I am afraid it is, sir. They are important witnesses."
"In that case you better carry my lantern," Sun said handing it to the judge. "I know my way about."
He went up the stairs, followed by the abbot, with Judge Dee, Tao Gan and Tsung close behind him. The judge noticed that his legs felt as if they were made of lead. There seemed to be no end to the winding stairs.