"Cats!" the poet murmured.
"We are coming to them! The old abbot painted many of them. Open that box, Tao Gan! It must contain his pictures and manuscripts. I see no other place for storing them."
Judge Dee and Tsung Lee looked on while Tao Gan sprang the padlock. The box was tightly packed with rolls of paper and silk. Tao Gan unrolled a few from the top. Handing the judge two rolls he said: "Here are more pictures of that grey cat, Your Honour."
Judge Dee looked casually at them. One showed the cat playing on the floor with its woollen ball, the other while it was playing in the grass, trying to catch a butterfly with its raised paw. Suddenly he stiffened. He stood stock-still for a while, staring straight ahead of him. Then he put the two pictures back into the box. He said tensely: "Close the box. I need no further proof! The old abbot was indeed murdered!"
Tao Gan and Tsung wanted to ask questions, but the judge barked: "Hurry up with that box; we'll now go and charge the criminal with his foul murder!"
Tao Gan quickly replaced the scrolls, closed the box and ran after the judge. Judge Dee cast one last look at the sunken face of the figure on the dais. Then he bowed, and made for the stairs.
"Aren't the abbot's quarters in the building over the fourth gate?" he asked Tsung Lee while they were going up.
"Yes sir! If we go back to the west tower, we can take the passage that leads east, straight to the rooms of the gate-house of the Sanctum."
"You take me there. Tao Gan, you run back through the Gallery of Horrors to the temple, and take the picture of the cat that is hanging above the altar in the side hall. Then you rouse a novice and have him bring you to the abbot's quarters, along the usual way."
They completed the climb up to the north-west tower in silence. From there Tao Gan went straight on; Tsung Lee took the judge to the dark passage on their left. Through the shuttered windows they could again hear the wind and rain outside. There were sounds of earthenware breaking on the flagstones of the central courtyard below.
"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…"