The judge left the innkeeper to his worries and entered the first restaurant he saw. He ate a simple meal, then had his tea on the balcony upstairs. Sitting close to the balustrade, he aimlessly watched the crowd in the street below. On the corner a group of youngsters were adding more bowls of food to the altar of the dead erected there. Judge Dee counted on his fingers. The next day would be the thirtieth of the seventh moon, the end of the Festival of the Dead. Then the paper models and the other offerings would be burned. This entire night the gates of the Other World would still be open.
Leaning back in his chair, he vexedly bit his lips. He had been confronted with baffling problems before, but then there had been at least sufficient data for formulating some theories and selecting some possible suspects. But he could not make head nor tail of the present situation. Doubtless one and the same criminal was responsible for the thirty-year-old murder of Tao Kwang, and the demise of Autumn Moon. And had that man now also eliminated Miss Ling? He frowned worriedly. He could not get rid of the feeling that there was a connection between her disappearance and the attack on Ma Joong and his two friends. And the only clue he had was that the unknown murderer must be about fifty years old, and a man living on, or closely connected with, Paradise Island. Even the case of the Academician had not been completely cleared up. Jade Ring's story about how she killed him seemed straightforward enough, but his relationship to Autumn Moon remained a mystery. It was passing strange that nobody seemed to know where their intimate meetings had taken place. There must have been more to their relationship than mere amorous dalliance. It is true that he had planned to redeem the Queen Flower. But didn't his preoccupation with Jade Ring prove that it was some ulterior reason rather than ordinary passion that had made him decide to buy Autumn Moon out? Was she perhaps blackmailing him ? He shook his head disconsolately. Since both the Academician and the Queen Flower were dead, he could never solve that mystery.
Suddenly he started to mutter angrily at himself. He had made a big mistake i The guests at the table next to him looked curiously at that tall, bearded gentleman who seemed to be working himself up into a rage all by himself. But Judge Dee didn't notice it. He rose abruptly, paid his bill and went downstairs.
He passed Kia Yu-po's hostel and walked along the bamboo fence on its left till he came to a small gate. It was standing ajar, on the jamb hung a wooden tablet, marked 'Private'.
He pushed it open and followed a well-kept path, winding among the tall trees. Their thick foliage screened off the noise from the street. When he had come out on the bank of a large pond, it was curiously still. A gracefully curved bridge of red-lacquered wood led across. While walking over the creaking boards he heard the splashes of the frightened frogs, jumping into the dark water.
On the other side a steep staircase led up to an elegant pavilion, raised about five feet above the ground on thick wooden pillars. It had but one floor, the pointed roof was decked with copper tiles, grown green with age.
Judge Dee went up on the balcony. After a quick look at the solid front door he walked round the pavilion. It had an octagonal shape. Standing at the balustrade at the back, he overlooked the garden behind Kia's inn and the side garden of the Hostel of Eternal Bliss beyond, dimly lit by the light coming from the park. He could vaguely discern the path leading to the veranda of the Red Pavilion. Turning round he inspected the back door. A strip of white paper had been pasted over the brass padlock, with the impression of Feng's seal on it. The door looked less solid than the one in front. As soon as he had put his shoulder against it, it burst open.
He stepped into the dark hall and, by groping located a candle on the side-table. He lighted it with the tinderbox that was lying beside it.
Raising the candle high, he surveyed the luxuriously appointed entrance hall, then had a quick look in the small sitting-room on the right. On the left of the hall he found a side-room, furnished only with a bamboo couch and a rickety bamboo table. Behind it was a washroom and a small kitchen. Evidently these were the maid's quarters.
He went out and entered the large bedroom opposite. Against the back wall he saw a huge bedstead of carved ebony, screened by gaudy curtains of embroidered silk. In front stood a round table of intricately carved rosewood, inlaid with mother of pearl. It could be used both for taking tea and for cosy dinners for two. The scent of a strong perfume lingered in the air.
The judge went over to the large dressing-table in the corner. He looked casually at the round mirror of polished silver and the impressive array of pots and boxes of coloured porcelain where the dead woman had kept her powders and ointments, then inspected the copper padlocks of the three drawers. It was there that the Queen Flower would have stored away her notes and letters.
The padlock of the upper drawer had not been closed. He pulled it out but saw nothing but crumpled up handkerchiefs and greasy hairpins which gave off a bad smell. He hastily pushed it shut and went on to the next. The padlock of this one also hung loosely on the hinge. The drawer contained the articles a courtesan uses for her intimate toilet. He slammed it shut. The third drawer was securely locked, but when he jerked at the padlock the thin wood round the hinges that held it splintered away. He nodded with satisfaction. The drawer was stuffed with letters, visiting cards, used and unused envelopes, receipted bills and sheets of blank writing paper, some crumpled up, others soiled by greasy fingers and lip salve. Evidently the courtesan had not been a very tidy person. He took this drawer over to the table and emptied its contents there. He pulled up a chair and started to sort the papers out.
His hunch might prove entirely wrong, but he had to verify it. During the dinner in the Crane Bower the Queen Flower had casually mentioned that the Academician had given her a vial of perfume as a parting present, enclosed in an envelope. She had asked him what perfume it was, but he had answered 'See that it reaches its destination'. Preoccupied with her thoughts about the perfume, she might well have paid no attention to something else he had said just before that, and remembered only his last words, which she had taken to be a jocular reference to the vial of perfume. But his words sounded like an instruction rather than an answer to her question. An instruction regarding another enclosure he had put in the envelope, next to the vial. Perhaps a message or a letter which the Academician wanted her to deliver to a third person.
He carelessly threw opened letters and visiting cards on the floor. He was looking for an unopened envelope. Then he found it. He leaned forward and held it close to the candle. The envelope was rather heavy, it bore no address, but was inscribed with a poem, in a strong, impressive calligraphy. It was a quatrain, reading:
The judge pushed his skull-cap back, pulled a hairneedle from his topknot, and slit the envelope carefully open with it. He shook out a flat vial of carved green jade with an ivory stopper. Then he eagerly took up the second, smaller envelope that fell out. It was securely sealed, and addressed, again in the Academician's handwriting: 'To His Excellency Lee Wei-djing, Doctor of Literature, former Imperial Censor, etc. etc., for his gracious inspection'.