Don't Cry, Tai Lake

FIVE

The center was a nice place, after all.

Chen took a walk around early Tuesday morning and began to get a better sense of the layout. The location spoke volumes for the center. Originally a huge lakeside area of the park, it had been converted into the Cadre Recreation Center for the benefit of veteran cadres, so they could enjoy the lake in peace and quiet without having to mix with the noisy tourist crowd.

There were several others like him walking around at a leisurely pace. Every one of them must have led a quite different life somewhere else, in a provincial town or in a large city, each powerful and privileged in their respective ways. In the blue-and-white-striped pajamas of the center, however, they appeared anonymous for the moment.

Even here, though, there was a sort of recognizable hierarchy. In the two gray multistory buildings near the entrance, the rooms were probably like those in a hotel; though still quite nice, each of them boasting a small balcony, they were probably not for very high-ranking cadres. In contrast, there was another building close to the center of the complex, and the size of the balconies indicated much larger rooms inside. Looking up, Chen saw a white-haired man step out onto a balcony on the third floor, stretch, and nod at him. Chen nodded back and moved on.

Soon, he saw a teahouse built in the traditional architectural style. It was much like the one he had seen in the park, but it stood embosomed in green foliage on the top of a raised plateau, adjacent to a modern-style building. From the distance, he could see several elderly people sitting outside by the white stone balustrade, drinking tea, talking, and cracking watermelon seeds.

It might be a good place, he reflected, for him to sit and study the initial report Sergeant Huang had faxed him that morning. The chief inspector was still debating as to whether he should get actively involved in the investigation.

He was surprised at the sight of a waterproof escalator stretching up the hill, leading directly to the teahouse. It wasn’t so much the technology of the escalator that surprised him but the fact that it was installed on the slope in the first place. Anyone who couldn’t walk up the flight of stone steps nearby could easily use the elevator inside the building next to it.

He turned away and walked to the clinic attached to the center instead. According to the brochure, the clinic provided convenient medical checkups for high-ranking cadres. Chen didn’t think there was anything wrong with him, but since he was there, he decided to see a doctor of traditional Chinese medicine.

Chen’s experience at the clinic proved to be quite different from that at a Shanghai hospital, where he usually had to wait a long time, standing in line, going through a lot of paperwork. Here, the nurses were practically waiting on him, not to mention that there was so much advanced equipment-all imported here for those high-ranking cadres.

The doctor felt Chen’s pulse, examined his tongue, took his blood pressure, and gave his diagnosis in a jumble of professional jargon spoken in a strong Anhui accent:

“You have worked too hard, burning up the yin in your system. Consequently both the qi and blood are at a low ebb, and the yang is insubstantially high. Quite a lot is out of balance, but nothing is precisely wrong, just a little of everything.” He dashed off a prescription and added thoughtfully, “You’re still single, aren’t you?”

Chen thought he knew what the doctor was driving at. According to traditional Chinese medical theory, people achieve the yin-yang balance through marriage. For a man of his age, continuous celibacy wouldn’t be healthy. The old doctor in Wuxi could be an ideal ally, Chen thought with a sense of amusement, for his mother in Shanghai, who worried and complained about his failure to settle down.

The prescription specified that the medicine be brewed fresh every day and then taken while still hot. The pharmacist at the clinic said that it was no problem to fill the prescription; Director Qiao had given specific instructions to provide whatever Chen needed.

Leaving the clinic, Chen continued walking instead of going back to his villa. He wasn’t entirely comfortable getting special treatment under the assumption that he was a high-ranking cadre. He’d noticed that some of the old people were looking at him with curiosity. It wasn’t likely that they recognized him. Still, at his age, he was quite conspicuous in this place.

Cutting across a small clearing with hardly any people around, he found himself walking up a flight of stone steps. He ended up at the back of the center, where he discovered a trail that wound down the hill. He followed the path, which was dotted with nameless flowers, and after a couple of turns it took him to a wire fence that separated the center from the lake, with a deserted road between the two.

He perched on a rock close to the foot of the hill and pulled out the fax. There didn’t seem to be anything really new or different from what Huang had already told him. After reading it a couple of times, he pondered what he could possibly do while still staying in the background. He didn’t think it would be a good idea for him to visit the crime scene or to interview any possible suspects. Still, something like an informal talk with people not being targeted by the local police might not be a problem. Perhaps a visit to Mrs. Liu. He didn’t see anything exactly suspicious about her. He was just a little bit curious about her decision to travel to Shanghai right after learning that her husband wouldn’t be back home that night. At the very least, she’d be able to tell him something about Liu.

Of course, another possible source of information would be Shanshan. For that interview, he’d better not reveal that he was a cop. He took out his cell phone, yet didn’t dial it. Deep down, he felt uneasy about not telling her he was a chief inspector, but he reassured himself that he was doing it for a good reason. And he wondered if the threating calls she had been getting had anything to do with the case.

He underlined several lines in the fax. There were some other points possibly worth looking into further. The timing of the murder, for one, and he scribbled a couple of words in the margin of the fax, though he was not sure about it.

Then to his surprise, he felt rather tired, and he rubbed his eyes. It was still quite early in the day. He couldn’t tell if the doctor’s diagnosis had had a psychosomatic effect on him.

He looked up, shaking his head. A little further to the north, he noticed a fence door had been left unlatched, which was probably unnoticeable from outside. Someone could have stepped out, having forgotten to lock the door behind them. He stood up to peer about, believing he must be close to the tourist area called Frost-Covered Goshawk Islet on his map.

As he started making his way back, a quietness unexpectedly enveloped him. He thought of several Tang dynasty lines: Only the sound / of a tiny pine nut / is heard dropping here / in the secluded hills … / There, a solitary one, / you must lie awake, thinking.

He tried to ridicule himself out of the mood. The Tang poem was about a night scene in the hills. Besides, who could be the “solitary one”?

Shortly after he got back to his villa, a young nurse appeared with freshly brewed medicine in a small thermos bottle.

“You’d better drink it quickly,” she said with a sweet smile. “A hot fresh dose could make a huge difference. There will be another dose delivered here in the afternoon.”

Afterward, he was rinsing the bitter herbal taste out of his mouth when a phone call came in from Director Qiao.

“You have to have lunch with us today, Chief Inspector Chen.”

“You don’t have to do that, Director Qiao. You’ve already done so much for me.”

“But we’d like to consult with you over lunch.”

“About what?”

“The center has been funded by the state up to now, but we’re considering possible reforms. Unlike hospitals, we don’t have our own way of making money. So we are thinking about opening part of the center to the public. Of course, service to Party cadres like yourself will remain our top priority. Our clinic and its location, however, may prove an attractive alternative to tourists, especially for those from Shanghai. They can stay here, just like staying in a nice, quiet hotel, and at the same time, enjoy a convenient and comfortable physical checkup. Now, you’re from Shanghai, where you are a celebrity. So you would be the very man to bring this message back to Shanghai.”

There might be something to this logic, Chen thought. The center was huge but far from fully occupied. Watching from his window, he had seen buildings with a considerable number of unlit windows at night. In recent years, state-run institutions like hospitals had resorted to charging their patients ever-increasing fees and getting “red envelopes” from them too, but the center was not in a position to do the same. They had to get by with the limited funds they received from the state.

But it was none of his business. Nor was Chief Inspector Chen here in Wuxi for business consultation. Still, Director Qiao seemed sincere in his approach, and Chen could not politely refuse.

He agreed to a late lunch, with the bitter taste of the herbal medicine lingering on his tongue.

There was still more than an hour before the lunch, so he sat himself in front of the laptop in the study and fumbled for an Internet connection. In spite of the instruction sheet beside the computer, he couldn’t get it to connect. It was an imported laptop loaded with Chinese software. At least he could try to write something. So he hunched down over the keyboard, though nothing came to mind for several minutes.

He took the laptop into the living room and sat where he could see the lake view outside the tall window. Then he thought of the unfinished poem he had started the day before-about one’s identity in others’ interpretations. The image of Shanshan walking along the lake shore with him started to intrude. What kind of man could he have been in her interpretation or imagination?

The phone on the table rang. He picked it up, heard the operator saying something indistinctly, and then Uncle Wang’s voice rushing over it in agitation.

“I know you’re vacationing at the center, Mr. Chen, but I had to call you. Shanshan is in trouble.”

“Oh-how?”

“This morning she came by, as usual, to put her lunch in my refrigerator, but before she stepped in, a couple of fierce-looking strangers appeared out of nowhere, intercepted her, and walked her into a car waiting outside. Afterward, I tried to call her at work. Someone there told me to keep quiet, that she’s been detained for interrogation.”

“Really! Do you know why?”

“She had some sort of an argument with Liu, her boss. That’s about all I know. Now that Liu’s dead, people must suspect her.”

“Just because of an argument about work? That’s outrageous. Do they have any evidence?”

“I have no idea. But Shanshan’s incapable of doing anything like this. I know her, Mr. Chen. I’ve known her since she was a child. ”

“I’ll look into it, Uncle Wang. Don’t worry. In the meantime, if you think of anything else, call me. Here is my cell number-” He paused, changing his mind, “No. I’ll come over and see you. Don’t move.”

He must have sounded like a cop, he thought, placing the phone back in the cradle. And it was true that he was preparing to act like a cop, though only the day before, he had reassured Sergeant Huang that the murder wasn’t his case and that he was just curious, only someone bored while on vacation.

His change in attitude was because of her. That much the chief inspector would admit to himself.

He left a short message for Director Qiao at the center office, apologizing for being unable to meet for lunch, then hurried out.

The road was just as attractive as before, but he was in no mood to look around like a tourist this time. It only took him about ten minutes to reach the eatery.

“She’s in trouble, I know,” Uncle Wang kept repeating. “I knew this was going to happen long ago. She stood in their way.”

“In whose way?”

“She was responsible for environmental protection, a job that made her ‘a nail in the eye’ to the people in power. It wouldn’t have been that bad if she didn’t take her job seriously. But she did. It wasn’t just Liu, but also those associated with him, who made things difficult for her. She told me about it. That’s one of the reasons she comes here for lunch. They don’t even let her eat a meal in peace there.”

Again Chen thought back to the ominous phone calls she’d been receiving. But could the pressure, no matter how unbearable, been enough to drive a young, spirited girl like Shanshan to murder?

“You have to help her, Mr. Chen. She’s a nice girl. She thinks so highly of you too.”

Apparently, Uncle Wang had read too much into the thing between them. But had she said something about him to Uncle Wang after they parted at the ferry?

Other than the pressure at work, however, the old man was unable to tell him anything new or helpful. So what was Chief Inspector Chen going to do?

Under normal circumstances, he could try to contact the local police, who might have no objection, though an understandable reluctance, to his looking into the case. Wuxi being so close to Shanghai, there might be occasion for them to help each other, and Chen’s own rising status as one trusted in Beijing might be useful to the Wuxi police.

With Internal Security lurking in the background, however, it could be a different story.

He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Sergeant Huang.

“I need to talk to you, Huang.”

“Oh yes, Chief. Where?”

“Well,” he said, aware that Uncle Wang was watching him closely. It wouldn’t do to talk in the presence of the old man. Looking up, he saw a barbershop across the road, one sporting a conventional pole with a helix of red, blue, and white stripes spinning. “Come to a barbershop on Wuyou Road, south of the Bus 1 terminal. I’ll meet you there.”

He took his leave of Uncle Wang and walked across to the barbershop, which had the refined name of WuYu Hair Salon.

A young girl in a backless slip came trotting out, “Welcome, boss. My name is Green Jade.”

It was a mistake, he realized immediately, seeing her nipples imprinted on the thin material as she took his hand and practically dragged him in. A large number of so-called hair salons nowadays were simply a cover for sexual services. Having seen many of them in Shanghai, he should have known better

He saw several other girls in the salon. One of them wore a red silk dudo bodice embroidered with a pair of mandarin ducks, and another simply had nothing on but a black lacy bra. They all looked at him curiously. He didn’t look like a regular customer at such a place, he guessed.

Green Jade led him to an inner room dimly lit with a solitary fluorescent light and started running down the available services the moment he sunk down into a leather recliner. “We provide all kinds of services, boss. Thai-style massage, foot washing, Japanese-style massage, oil back rubbing, oil body rubbing, hair washing … Whatever you want, you just name it.”

“I just want to have my hair cut.”

“No, we don’t cut hair, we only wash hair. Leisurely hair wash, luxurious, luscious. It’ll bring a relaxation to your every nerve, I guarantee it.”

“Go ahead,” he said resignedly. It was too late for him to back out. Huang must already be on his way.

The leather recliner designed for hair washing allowed him to practically lie on his back, with his head reaching out under the water. Green Jade spared no time applying shampoo to his hair, rubbing and massaging his scalp, pressing his temples with her fingers. She might have had some profession training, he mused as she stood, bending over him, her breasts almost bouncing out of her slip.

In the fluorescent light he noticed there was a deep-red rash on her bare arms and shoulders.

“Oh, you’re having allergy attack, are you?” he exclaimed with an involuntary shudder.

“Don’t worry. Many people are having the same problem here. For some, it’s much worse. It’s all because of the lake water, you know. There is so much industrial waste being dumped into it.”

It was further confirmation of the disastrous pollution problem, for which people were paying a terrible price.

“Let me rub your shoulders too, boss. They’re so tense. You must have worked hard. Relax,” she said, her hands beginning to work on him.

Before he could say anything, however, her fingers began brushing his groin.

“Let me rub your little brother too.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ll really enjoy it, and you can take pity on me at the same time. For washing your hair, I make only ten yuan, but for rubbing your little brother, I make sixty.”

He was going to protest as her hand started reaching for his belt, when Huang burst into the room. Without seeing Chen, whose hair was covered in lather and whose face was partially obscured by a towel, Huang started shouting for him.

“Chief Inspector Chen!”

The salon was thrown into consternation and all the girls were flabbergasted. Green Jade was transfixed at the sight of Huang in his police uniform, raising her two hands high as if in surrender.

“I’m here. Don’t worry, Sergeant Huang,” Chen said, rubbing his hair with a towel. “Let’s leave.”

He paid in accordance to the price listed on the menu on the wall. Green Jade kept thanking him, her face flushed, her hair disheveled. It was not as expensive as he had anticipated, but then perhaps the price charged was due to the presence of Sergeant Huang.

As they left the salon, Chen saw that Huang had come in a local police car.

Uncle Wang was serving a customer at an outside table, and there was no other place outside for them to sit and talk, so Chen followed Huang into the car and lost no time in asking about Shanshan.

“Your people have detained Shanshan, haven’t you?”

“You’re right on top of the latest developments, Chief,” Huang said, offering him a cigarette. “There’s a new focus in the investigation-on the people who had a grudge against Liu. She’s been detained because of her arguments with Liu. According to Mi, Liu had said something about firing her. So Shanshan has a possible motive. She was also heard threatening Liu about a week or so before his death in his office-saying that he would pay a terrible price. At least a couple of people in the company heard it.”

“I have reason to believe she was arguing with Liu about work, and she was warning him about the consequences of the industrial pollution. I strongly suspect she made no threat to Liu personally. So, who heard her make the threat?”

“Mi, and Zhou Qiang, the sales manager, who called her a bitchy busybody. It is true that some people in the company don’t like her.”

“What about her alibi?”

“She doesn’t have one. She said she was alone in her dorm room that evening, watching TV and reading, and she then went to bed around ten.”

“Most of the people in the dorm would have given you a similar answer. A considerable number of them are single, and Wuxi is not a city with a lot of entertainment at night.”

“Wuxi is not Shanghai, I know,” Huang said. “But the murderer is someone who was not a stranger to Liu. As we suspected from the very beginning, it’s someone who knew where Liu was spending the night.”

“But others in the company also know about Liu’s home office. It’s no secret. As you mentioned yesterday, Mi, the secretary, knew Liu’s whereabouts better than anybody else. And Mrs. Liu too.”

“That’s true.”

“It would make more sense for Liu to have told the people close to him about his plans for the night. With the rancor between Shanshan and Liu, how could she have possibly known where he would be?”

“How-I don’t have an answer to that.”

“Besides, with the problems between the two, it’s beyond me why Liu would have let her in, and then let her strike a fatal blow without struggling-even if she had paid him an unexpected visit that evening.” Chen paused before going on, “No, I don’t think she should be detained without any evidence or witnesses.”

“I see your point, Chief. As your friend, she may have told you things we don’t know.”

“Whether she’s my friend or not makes no difference. In fact, as I told you, I met her just two days ago,” he said, wondering whether Huang would take his word for it. “As cops, we have to tell ourselves what we can do, and what we can’t.”

“I couldn’t agree more. You’re a man of principle. I would not have detained her, but I’m the youngest one on the team; they wouldn’t listen to me. Not to mention that Internal Security is in the background, and they backed the decision.”

That was probably true, Chen thought, but he still hoped Huang would try to get her released. “There is something strange about this case, Huang. To begin with, the timing of the murder. It happened just as the IPO for the company is coming up, and in the midst of the persisting controversy about its dumping of industrial waste,” Chen said deliberately. “I’m stuck here on a vacation that has been pushed on me, as I’ve told you, and I really have nothing to do at the center. I think we can look into this case together-you and I.”

“You mean we can work on a case together? That would be absolutely fantastic, Chief Inspector Chen-to investigate under your supervision. I’ve dreamed of it for a long, long time.”

“No, it’s not my case. Nor is it the time for me to make a move out in the open. I’m not a cop while I’m in Wuxi. We have to make sure of that.” Chen added, with touch of self-irony, “I know you like Sherlock Holmes stories. Remember how he occasionally stays in the background and lets the police do the job?”

“Yes, he does that in several stories, Chief Inspector Chen.”

“None of your colleagues should know about my working with you.”

“Whatever you prefer.”

“But for me to work on a case, whether in the background or in the foreground, there are things I do, and things I don’t do.”

“I understand.”

“For one thing, I don’t want to crack a case by detaining and interrogating people without justification.”

“You mean-” Huang left the sentence unfinished with an edge of hesitation in his voice.

Chen knew why the young cop was hesitant, so he decided to give him another push.

“Honestly, I was surprised when I was told to come here on a vacation I don’t need. But Comrade Secretary Zhao must have his reasons.”

It was no more than the truth, but to the young cop, it hinted that Chen had been sent here for something highly confidential; something Chen himself had wondered about.

“I happened to know Shanshan,” Chen went on after a dramatic pause, “because of something said by Comrade Secretary Zhao. He read an article by her-something about environmental protection. So he wanted me to do some research on new problems in China’s economic reform,” Chen said. He thought it wasn’t too much of a fabrication. “I’m about to write a report on sustainable economic development, development that is not at the expense of the environment. It’s not at all my field, but I couldn’t say no to him.”

“No wonder you came to know her so quickly,” Huang said with an awestruck look on his face. “I really appreciate your trust in me, Chief Inspector Chen. I understand it’s highly confidential. I’ll do my best.”

“Give me what additional information you may have about the case. In particular, has the final autopsy report come out yet?”

“Yes, I’ll get you a copy too.”

“Don’t mention Zhao or me to anybody,” Chen added in a hurry, reaching for the car door handle. “It’s a very delicate situation, but you’re capable of judging how to deal with it.”

“Sure, I’ll follow your instructions.”

“Then we’ll get to work, Sergeant Huang,” he said. “I’ll discuss the first step we’re going to take soon, but in the meantime, I’m going to write a report about it for Beijing.”