Judge Dee rose. He said to Sun: "For the time being we'd better keep to that theory of an accident. Perhaps Your Excellency will be so kind as to discuss with the prior the necessary measures to be taken. I suppose the Chief Abbot in the capital must be informed as soon as possible!"
"We'll send a messenger first thing tomorrow morning," Sun said. "We'll also have to ascertain the wishes of His Holiness regarding the succession. Pending his answer, the prior can take care of the routine administration here."
"I hope that tomorrow morning you'll kindly help me to draw up the official report about this, sir," the judge said. "I'll leave the picture of the cat here; it's an important piece of evidence."
Sun Ming nodded. He gave the judge an appraising look, then said: "You had better go and get a few hours sleep, Dee! You look a bit off colour!"
"I still have to arrest Mo, sir!" the judge replied dejectedly. "I am convinced that Mo is the real criminal, more guilty than the abbot. It must depend on Mo's testimony whether we report the abbot's death just now as suicide, or as death by misadventure. And now that the abbot is dead, Mo is the only one who can tell us what really happened to the three girls who died here."
"What does the fellow look like?" Sun asked. "You say he is an actor? I watched the entire mystery play, except for the last scene."
"Mo was on the stage all the time. He acted the part of the Spirit of Death. But you couldn't see his face, sir, because he wore one of those large wooden masks. I saw him in the last scene where he performed a sword dance, but then his face was painted. I suspect that now he is posing as one of the monks here. He is a tall, broad-shouldered fellow, and usually looks rather morose."
"Most of the monks do," Sun muttered. "Wrong diet, I suppose. How do you expect to find him, Dee?"
"That is what I must try to work out now, sir!" Judge Dee replied with a rueful smile. "I can't settle this case without Mo's full confession."
He took his leave with a deep bow. As he went to the door, with Tao Gan and Tsung Lee, the small prior came in, looking more nervous than ever.
XVI
When the three men entered the temple hall, they found the almoner, talking in a hushed voice to a small group of monks. Seeing Judge Dee he quickly came forward and led him silently to the side hall.
The abbot's corpse had been laid on a high bier, and covered with a piece of red brocade, embroidered in gold thread with Taoist symbols. The judge lifted one end. He looked for a while at the dead man's still face. As he let it drop again, the almoner whispered: "Four monks will be here all night reading prayers, Your Honour. The prior plans to announce the abbot's demise in a few hours, during matins."
Judge Dee expressed his condolence, then went back to the front hall where Tao Gan and Tsung Lee stood waiting for him. The poet asked diffidently: "May I invite Your Honour to have a cup of tea up in my room?"
"I refuse to climb any more steps!" Judge Dee replied firmly. "Tell one of those monks to bring a large pot of bitter tea to that room over there!"
He went to the small cabinet over on the other side of the front hall. It was apparently used as a reception room. Judge Dee sat down at the tea table, a beautiful antique piece of carved sandalwood. He motioned Tao Gan to take the chair opposite him. Silently the judge studied the painted portraits of Taoist Immortals, yellowed by age, that were suspended in gorgeous frames on the walls. Through the open-work carving in the wall above them he could vaguely see the heads of the large gilded statues on the altar in the dim temple hall.
Tsung Lee came in carrying a large teapot. He poured out three cups. The judge told him to be seated also.
While sipping their tea they listened to the monotonous chant that came drifting over to them from the side hall opposite. The monks by the abbot's bier had started intoning the prayers for the dead.
Judge Dee sat motionless, slumped back in his chair. He felt completely exhausted. His legs and his back were throbbing with a dull ache, and he had a queer, empty feeling in his head. He tried to review the circumstances that had led up to the old abbot's murder and True Wisdom's suicide. He had a vague feeling that some features still needed a further explanation; there were some isolated facts which would complete his mental picture of Mo Mo-te — if only he could find the correct interpretation. But his brain was numb; he couldn't think clearly. Mo Mo-te's helmet kept appearing before him. He had the distinct feeling that there was something wrong with that helmet. His thoughts became confused; he realized that the monotonous chant of the monks was lulling him to sleep.
He suppressed a yawn and sat up with an effort. Placing his elbows on the table he looked at his two companions. Tao Gan's thin face was as impassive as ever. Tsung Lee looked utterly tired; his face was sagging. The judge reflected that now that the poet's fatigue had made him drop his habitual insolent airs, he wasn't an unprepossessing youngster. Judge Dee emptied his teacup, then addressed him: "Now that you have executed your late father's command, Tsung Lee, you'd better settle down to a serious study of the Confucianist Classics, so as to prepare yourself for the literary examinations. You may yet prove yourself a worthy son of your distinguished father!" He gave the youngster a sour look, then he pushed his cap back from his forehead, and continued in a brisk voice: "We must now have a consultation about how we can catch Mo Mo-te, and save his most recent victim. He must tell us where he concealed that one-armed woman, and who she is."
"A one-armed woman?" Tsung Lee asked astonished.
"Yes," Judge Dee said giving him a sharp look. "Ever seen such a mutilated woman about here?"
Tsung Lee shook his head.
"No sir, I have been here now more than two weeks, but I never even heard about a one-armed woman. Unless," he added with a smile, "Your Honour would be referring to that statue in the Gallery of Horrors!"
"A statue?" Judge Dee asked. It was now his turn to be astonished.
"Yes, the one with all those chains, sir. Its left arm had become worm-eaten, and it fell off. They repaired it very quickly though, I must say." As Judge Dee looked fixedly at him he added: "You know, that naked woman being speared by a blue devil. I heard you remark to Tao Gan that you…"
Judge Dee hit his fist on the table.
"You utter fool!" he burst out. "Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"
"I thought … I told you about a statue being repaired, when we entered the gallery, sir. And…"
The judge had jumped up and grabbed the lantern.
"Come along quick, you two!" he barked and ran out into the temple hall.
He seemed to have forgotten his fatigue completely. He rushed up the stairs two at a time to the landing above the temple. Tao Gan and Tsung Lee had difficulty in keeping up with him.
Panting, the judge took them through the west passage to the tower, then ran down the steps that led to the entrance of the Gallery of Horrors. He kicked the door open and went inside. He halted in front of the blue devil and the naked woman spread-eagled against the boulder.
"Look, she is bleeding!" he muttered.
Tao Gan and Tsung Lee stared aghast at the thin stream of blood that trickled along the cracked plaster on the woman's breast, from the spot where the spearpoint had entered.
Judge Dee bent and carefully brushed aside the hair that covered the face.
"White Rose!" Tsung Lee gasped. "They've killed her!"
"No," Judge Dee said. "See, her fingers are twitching."
The body had been covered with a coat of white plaster, but the hands and feet had been painted black. A casual observer would not see them against the dark background.