"This afternoon, when the professor was taking his siesta, I had a look at his collection of books. I found a fine old illustrated work on archery which greatly interested me. When I put it back, I saw an old book that had been lying behind it. It was a chess manual. I leafed it through, and found on the last page the problem that the dead dancer carried in her sleeve."
"Excellent!" Judge Dee exclaimed. "Did you bring the book with you?"
"No, Your Honor. I thought that the professor might become suspicious if he discovered that it was missing. I left brother Ma to watch the house and went to the bookshop opposite the Temple of Confucius. When I mentioned the title of the book, the shopkeeper said he still had one copy, and began at once about that last problem! He said that the book was published seventy years ago by the great grandfather of Han Yung-han, an old eccentric whom the people here used to call Hermit Han. He was famous as a chess expert, and his manual is still widely studied. Two generations of chess lovers have pondered over that last problem, but no one has ever succeeded in discovering its meaning. The book gives no explanation of it; therefore it is now generally assumed that the printer added that last page by mistake. Hermit Han died suddenly while the printing was still in progress; he didn't see the proofs. I bought the book. Your Honor can see for yourself."
He handed the judge a dog-eared, yellow volume.
"What an interesting story!" Judge Dee exclaimed. He eagerly opened the book and quickly read through the preface.
"Han's ancestor was a fine scholar," he remarked. "This Preface is written in a very original, but excellent, style." He leafed the book through till the end, then took from his drawer the sheet with the chess problem and laid it next to the printed book. "Yes," he pursued, "Almond Blossom tore that sheet from a copy of this book. But why? How could a chess problem that was printed seventy years ago have anything to do with a plot that is being hatched now in this city? It's a strange affair!" Shaking his head, he put the book and the loose sheet in the drawer. Then he asked the sergeant: "Have you found out more about Liu Fei-po, Hoong?"
"Nothing that has a direct bearing on our cases, Your Honor," Hoong replied. "Of course, the sudden death of his daughter and the disappearance of her body have set tongues wagging in that neighborhood. They say that Liu must have had a premonition that the marriage would be an unlucky one, and therefore tried to have it annulled. I had a cup of wine with one of Liu's palanquin bearers in the wine shop on the corner near the Liu mansion. The fellow told me that Liu is fairly popular with his personnel; he is a bit strict, but since he is away traveling so often they have on the whole an easy life of it. He told me one strange thing, though. He maintains that Liu sometimes practices a kind of vanishing trick!"
"Vanishing trick?" the judge asked, amazed. "What did he mean by that?"
"Well," Hoong said, "it seems it has happened several times that after Liu had retired to his library, when the steward went there to ask him something he found the room empty. He then looked for his master all over the house, but he was nowhere to be seen, and nobody had seen him go out. Then, at dinnertime, the steward would suddenly meet him walking in the corridor, or in the garden. The first time it happened the steward told Liu that he had been looking everywhere for him in vain, but then Liu had flown into a rage and cursed him for a doddering fool, blind as a bat. He said he had been sitting in his garden pavilion all the time. Later, when the same thing repeated itself, the steward didn't dare to remark on it any more."
"I fear," Judge Dee said, "that the palanquin bearer had had a drop too much! Well, as regards the two calls I made this afternoon, Han Yung-han let it slip out that Dr. Djang retired before his time because one of his girl students accused him of an offense against morality. Han maintains that the professor was innocent, but according to him all prominent citizens of Han-yuan are high-minded persons! Thus Liu's accusation about Dr. Djang assaulting his daughter may, after all, not be as improbable as it seemed to us at first sight. Second, Councilor Liang has a nephew living with him whose handwriting seems to me to resemble closely that of our elusive Student of the Bamboo Grove! Give me one of those letters!" Judge Dee took the summary Liang Fen had given him from his sleeve, and studied it together with the letter Hoong placed before him. Then he hit his fist on the table and muttered peevishly: "No, it's the same thing we are running up against every time in this vexing case! It just doesn't fit! Look: it's the same style of calligraphy, written with the same ink and the same kind of brush! But the strokes are not the same, not quite!" Shaking his head he went on: "It would all tally nicely, though. The old Councilor is in his dotage, and except for an aged couple there are no other servants in that large mansion. That fellow Liang Fen has his quarters on a small back yard, with a door to an alley behind the house. Thus he has an ideal situation for a secret rendezvous with a woman from outside. Perhaps it was there that the dead courtesan used to spend her afternoons! He could have made her acquaintance in a shop somewhere. He maintains he didn't know Candidate Djang, but he knows very well we can't check that, because he is dead! Does the name Liang occur on that list the professor drew up for you, Hoong?"
The sergeant shook his head.
"Even if Liang Fen had an affair with Almond Blossom, Your Honor," Chiao Tai remarked, "he couldn't have killed her because he wasn't on the boat! And the same goes for Dr. Djang."
Judge Dee folded his arms across his chest. He remained deep in thought, his chin on his breast. At last he spoke.
"I admit frankly that I can't make head or tail of it! You two can go now and have your meal. Thereafter Chiao Tai goes back to the house of Dr. Djang to take over there from Ma Joong. On your way out, Sergeant, you can tell the clerk to serve my evening rice here in my office. Tonight I shall reread all documents pertaining to our two cases, and see whether I can't find a lead." He angrily tugged at his mustache. Then he resumed: "For the time being our theories don't look very promising! Number one: the murder on the flower boat. A dancer is murdered in order to prevent her from betraying a criminal plot to me. Four persons had the opportunity: Han, Liu, Soo and Wang. The plot has something to do with an unsolved chess problem that is only seventy years old! The dancer also had a secret love affair-that perhaps has nothing to do with her murder. Her lover was Dr. Djang, who was familiar with the pen name found on the love letters, or Liu Fei-po, for the same reason plus the resemblance of his handwriting, or Liang Fen, because of the resemblance of the handwriting plus the fact that he had an excellent opportunity for having secret meetings with her in his quarters.
"Number two: a professor of profound learning but questionable morals assaults his daughter-in-law, who commits suicide. The groom also commits suicide. The professor tries to have the body buried without an autopsy, but a carpenter suspects the truth because he had a talk with a fisherman-make a note that we try to locate that fellow, Hoong!-and that carpenter is promptly murdered, apparently with his own ax! And the professor sees to it that the dead body of the bride disappears without a trace.
"That's all! But now don't you two start thinking that there's something afoot here! Goodness, no. This is a sleepy little town; nothing ever happens here-says Han Yung-han! Well, good night!"