The Chinese Gold Murders by Robert van Gulik

Author:Robert van Gulik
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9789085241522
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 1958-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Eleven

Judge Dee remained silent all the way to the east gate. Only when they were being carried across the creek over the Rainbow Bridge did he comment to Hoong on the beautiful view presented by the White Cloud Temple ahead. Its white marble gates and the blue tiled roofs stood out against the green mountain slope.

They were carried up the broad marble stairs, and the bearers deposited the palanquin in the spacious courtyard, surrounded by a broad open corridor. Judge Dee gave his large red visiting card to the elderly monk who came to meet him. “His holiness is just finishing his afternoon devotion,” he said.

He led them through three other courts, each on a higher level against the mountain slope, and connected with each other by beautifully carved marble staircases.

At the back of the fourth court there was a flight of steep steps. On top judge Dee saw a long, narrow terrace, hewn directly into the moss-covered rock. He heard the sounds of running water.

“Is there a spring here?” he asked.

“Indeed, your honor,” the monk answered. “It sprang from the rock below here four hundred years ago, when the founding saint discovered the sacred statue of the Lord Maitreya on this site. The statue is enshrined in the chapel there on the other side of the cleft.”

The judge saw now that between the terrace and the high rock wall there was a cleft of about five foot broad. A narrow bridge consisting of three transverse wooden boards led over it to a large, dark cave.

Judge Dee stepped on the bridge and looked down into the deep cleft. Some thirty feet below him a swift stream gushed over pointed stones. A delightful cool air came up from the cleft.

Inside the case on the other side of the bridge he saw a golden trellis, with a red silk curtain hanging behind it. That apparently concealed the holiest of the holy, the chapel of the statue of Maitreya.

“The abbot’s quarters are at the end of the terrace,” the old monk said. He took them to a small building with an elegantly curved roof, nestling in the shadow of century-old trees. Soon he came out again, and bade the judge enter. Sergeant Hoong sat down on the cool stone bench outside.

A magnificent couch of carved ebony covered with red silk cushions took up the entire back part of the room. In its middle a small, rotund man was sitting cross-legged, huddled in a wide robe of stiff gold brocade. He bowed his round, closely-shaven head, then motioned the judge to sit down on a large carved armchair, in front of the couch. The abbot turned round and placed the visiting card of the judge respectfully on the small altar in the niche behind the couch. The rest of the walls were covered by heavy silk hangings, embroidered with scenes from the life of the Buddha. The room was pervaded by the heavy smell of some outlandish incense.

The old monk placed a small tea table of carved rosewood by the side of judge Dee’s chair, and poured him a cup of fragrant tea.

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