He tested the lowest shelf with his foot. It was much too fragile to support his weight, but it would probably support a slight young girl all right. He fetched the ebony seat of the lute table from inside, and placed it close by the flower rack. The carved panels were now within easy reach. He felt the edge of the one just above the rack, and discovered he could move it aside a bit. When he exercised more pressure, the panel slid open. The light of his lantern fell on the pale, frightened face of the girl crouching just inside the dark opening.
'You had better come down, Miss Min,' the judge said dryly. 'You need not be afraid, I am a guest of your father staying here overnight. Here, let me give you a hand.'
But she did not need any assistance. She put her foot down on the upper shelf of the flower rack and lightly descended. Gathering her dust-covered blue robe around her, she cast a quick glance at the mountain slope where the fires of the bandits were burning high. Then she went silently inside.
The judge motioned her to take the chair by the table, then sat down opposite her, on the lute-seat, which he had dragged inside again. Stroking his long, greying beard, he studied her pale, drawn face. She had not much changed in the last three years. He marvelled again at the skill of the painter who had achieved that perfect likeness. And the pose from the waist upward had been cleverly contrived. It had glossed over the bent back that was nearly a hump, and it concealed the fact that her head was a little too large for the small, frail body. At last he spoke:
'I was told that you had died from a heart attack, Miss Min. Your old parents are mourning for you. In fact, it was the maid Aster who died here in this room. She was murdered.' He paused. When she remained silent, he resumed: 'I am a magistrate, from a district up north. This place does not belong to my territory, of course, but since it is completely isolated now, I represent the law here. Therefore, it is my duty to investigate this murder. Please explain what happened.'
She raised her head. There was a sombre gleam in her wide eyes.
'Does it matter?' she asked in a low, cultured voice. 'We shall all be murdered. Soon. Look, the red glow of dawn is in the sky.'
The truth always matters, Miss Min. I am waiting for your explanation.'
She shrugged her narrow shoulders. 'Last night, before dinner, I had come up here. I washed and made up my face, waiting for Aster to come and help me change. When she did not appear, I got up and went out on the balcony. Standing on the balustrade, I watched the mountain slope, looking for those awful bandits, and thinking worriedly about what would happen to us. At last, when I had been standing there for a considerable time, I realized that it was getting late, and decided to change my robes without waiting for Aster. When I had gone inside, I saw Aster lying on my bed, on her right side, her back turned to me. With an angry remark on my lips I stepped up to the bed. Then I saw to my horror that the back of her dress was stained with blood. I bent over her. She was dead.
'I began to shriek, but quickly put my hand over my mouth. In a flash I realized what must have happened. When Aster came up and didn't find me in the room, she thought that I was still somewhere downstairs. She laid herself down on my bed, planning to jump up as soon as she would hear me coming. She was that kind of impertinent, lazy girl, you know. Then someone came in and killed her, thinking it was me. Just when that awful thought had come to me, I heard shuffling footsteps on the landing outside. That must be the murderer coming back! In a panic I rushed out on the balcony, and up into the loft.'
She paused and pensively patted her hair with her slender white hand. Then she went on:
'I must explain that I had been exploring the possibilities of that loft, as soon as I learnt that the bandits had come. I wanted to ascertain whether it could serve as a hiding place for my old parents and me, should the bandits come and ransack the house. It seemed eminently suited for that purpose, so I put a few coverlets there, a water jar, and some boxes of dried fruit. Well, I hadn't left my bedroom one moment too soon. For now I heard the door open, and again those horrible, shuffling footsteps. I waited for a long time, straining my ears, but I heard nothing. At last there came a loud knocking on the door, and someone shouted for me. I thought it was a trick of the murderer, who had discovered his mistake, so I kept quiet. Then there were again loud knocks on the door. I heard my uncle cry out in alarm that I was dead. My uncle had mistaken Aster for me. He had not met me after his arrival here, and the last time he had seen me had been seven years ago. Nor had he seen Aster, who had kept to the women's quarters that afternoon. Yet it was strange that my uncle made that mistake, for Aster had been wearing her blue maid's dress. I concluded that the murderer, when he came back the second time, had undressed the dead body and clad it in one of my robes. I wanted to come out and tell my uncle everything, then I reflected that it was much better to leave the murderer under the impression that I had disappeared, thus giving me time to try to obtain a clue to his identity.
'Exhausted by fear and suspense, I slept that whole night. This morning I came down once to fetch a new jug of water and a box of cakes. I crept down to the landing on the second floor, and overheard the bailiff and the steward discussing my sudden death, from a heart attack. That proved to me that the murderer had somehow or other succeeded in obliterating the traces of his cruel deed, and that made me all the more afraid. For he must be an uncommonly resourceful and ruthless man. In the afternoon I slept. In the evening I heard voices in my room, one I recognized as that of the bailiff. Then all was quiet again, until I heard someone playing my lute, my own favourite melody. Since no one in the house plays the lute except me, I suspected it might be someone from outside, either the murderer or an accomplice. The rainstorm was over, so this seemed an excellent opportunity for trying to learn who my unknown enemy was. I climbed down noiselessly and peered round the screen door. In the shadows in the back of the room I saw a tall bearded man completely unknown to me. In a dead fright I fled up to my hiding place again. That is all, sir.'
Judge Dee nodded slowly. She was an intelligent girl, capable of logical reasoning. He pulled the tea-basket towards him and poured her a cup. He waited till she had emptied it eagerly, then asked:
'Who wanted to kill you, do you think, Miss Min?'
She shook her head disconsolately.
'No one I can think of, sir. That's exactly what frightens me so, that terrible uncertainty! I hardly know anybody from outside, for we have few visitors here, you know. Until last year a music master used to come here regularly from the village by the fortress, and my teacher in painting and calligraphy lived in for some time. Then, when my studies had been completed, and after my impending marriage to young Mr Liang had been announced, I led a very secluded life and saw no one that did not belong to the household.'
'In such a case,' the judge remarked, 'we always begin by looking for a motive. Am I right in assuming that you are the sole heir to the estate?'
'Yes, I am. I had an elder brother, but he died, three years ago.'
'Who would be the next heir?'
'My uncle, sir.'
'That might constitute a strong motive. I was told that, although your uncle is a wealthy man, he still is very fond of money.'
'Oh no, not uncle!' she cried out. 'He has always been very close to my father, he would never ... No, you may dismiss that idea at once, sir.' She thought for a while. After some hesitation, she resumed: 'There's Mr Liao, our steward, of course. I know he was fond of me. He never said so, of course, but I knew it all right. It's true that a man in his subordinate position, and without property, would ordinarily not even dream of marrying his master's only daughter. But since Liao comes from an old literary family that produced two eminent poets, there was a chance that my father, if I had been agreeable, would have considered an eventual proposal. However, Liao kept silent, and when my engagement to Mr Liang had been announced, it was of course too late. That news upset him greatly, I couldn't fail to notice that. But it seems unthinkable that such a modest, refined gentleman as Mr Liao would ever ...'