Sun Ming nodded forlornly. After a while he asked: "But why did the fellow insist on delivering a statement in front of me? If he had thought I would speak up in his favour, he must have been an even greater fool than I always thought he was!"
"Before I answer that question, sir," Judge Dee said, "I would like to ask you first whether True Wisdom was aware of the fact that the balustrade of the landing was broken?"
"Of course he was!" Sun replied. "I told him myself that I wanted to have it repaired. He was diligent enough, I must grant him that!"
"In that case," Judge Dee said gravely, "he committed suicide."
"Nonsense! I myself saw him grabbing for that balustrade, Dee!"
"He fooled both you and me," the judge said. "Remember that he couldn't have known that we would meet you at the bottom of the staircase leading up here. He thought that you would be in your library. He never intended to meet you, sir, let alone make a statement. He only wanted to come up here because he knew he was lost, and because the landing was the best place he could think of for committing suicide before I could arrest him. He pretended it was an accident in order to safeguard his reputation and the interests of his family. For now we shall never be able to say with absolute certainty what part he took in all that happened here. Your unexpected appearance did not materially change his scheme."
Tao Gan and Tsung Lee came in.
"He broke his neck, Your Honour," the former announced soberly. "He must have died instantly. I fetched the prior. They are now bringing the corpse to the side hall of the temple, to lie in state there pending the official burial. I explained that it had been an accident." Turning to Sun he added: "The prior wishes to speak to you, sir."
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."