“After the Cultural Revolution, there was a short period of ‘rectifying the wrong cases.’ Without talking to Party Secretary Li about it, I dropped in at Teng’s school one day. To my consternation, there was no ‘rectifying the wrong case’ with regard to Teng, because there was no case. Nothing in official record at all. He committed suicide during an unofficial investigation. That’s all there was about it. Disaster comes in and out of the mouth, as an old saying goes. With Mao in the background, no one was willing to talk about it.

“I kept a notebook on the case, so I got hold of the books mentioned in Teng’s class notes, as well as some new publications about Mao. I had hoped to prove that it was Teng’s typo, so he, too, was at least partially responsible. Alternatively, that one of the authors had made a typo. Either way, I wouldn’t have to hold myself responsible. A deceiving and self-deceiving trick, you may say, like silencing a ringing bell by stuffing up one’s own ears. But the more I read, the lower my heart sank -”

“Wait a minute, Old Hunter,” Chen interrupted at the sight of the returning waitress. “Bring more hot water.”

“Two thermos bottles of hot water,” Old Hunter said. “We don’t serve hot water like that,” she protested weakly. “We paid for a private room. At least we should be able to have the tea our way.”

After she brought the hot water as requested, Old Hunter waved the waitress out of the room, poured a cup for himself, and resumed.

“About Mao’s marriages, here’s a summary of what I’ve gathered from various sources. After their marriage, Kaihui gave birth to three sons. In 1927, Mao went to the Jingjiang Mountains as a guerrilla fighter, leaving Kaihui and their young children behind in the suburbs of Changsha. Less than a year later, however, Mao married Zizhen, who was then only seventeen, nicknamed ‘the flower of Yongxing County’ and a guerrilla fighter in the mountains. What proved this beyond any doubt was an article in defense of Mao’s marriage to Zizhen. It was written by a senior Party official and published in History Magazine. According to the author, it was simply another sacrifice for the revolution: Zizhen was the younger sister of a guerrilla leader who had arrived in the mountains earlier, so Mao had to marry her so as to consolidate the revolutionary forces there. ‘Any criticism of Mao’s marriage with Zizhen was irresponsible, made without proper historical perspective.’ ”

“That’s unbelievable! Such a brazen excuse.”

“Whatever the excuse, Mao married Zizhen – an act of undeniable bigamy. In the mountains, he lost himself in the cloud and rain of her youthful, supple body, which bore a daughter for him that same year.”

“But Mao could have been lonely in the mountains, or lost in a moment of passion,” Chen said. “It might not be fair to judge him on one episode in his personal life.”

“Whatever he did as the supreme Party leader is not for me to judge. I was simply looking into what he did as a man to his women.”

“Perhaps Mao believed Kaihui had already died.”

“No, that’s not true. Kaihui knew nothing about his betrayal, and had someone carry handmade cloth shoes to him. She also asked several times to join him in the mountains, but he always said no. Like in a Suzhou opera line, he heard only the new one’s laughter, not the old one’s weeping. And there’s something else,” he said, sipping at his tea, deliberately, like wine. “Something you will not believe.”

“Oh, the climax of the Suzhou opera is finally coming,” Chen said nodding, like a loyal audience.

“At first, the nationalists in Changsha didn’t bother Kaihui and her children. In 1930 though, when Mao led a siege of the city of Changsha, the situation changed drastically. Kaihui and her children were in danger. Mao should have moved them out of the city, but no rescue effort whatsoever was made. The siege lasted about twenty days, and Mao and his troops were close to where she was, but he did nothing. He didn’t even try to contact her.

“After the siege failed, the nationalists retaliated and arrested her. They wanted her to sign a statement cutting all ties with Mao, but she refused. She was executed in 1930. It was said that she was dragged barefoot to the execution grounds – according to a local superstition, her ghost would therefore be unable to find her way back to home, to Mao.”

“What a horrible story!” Chen exclaimed, picking up the teacup but putting it back down right away. “And what an old hunter you really are to have dug up all that information!”

“I am not saying that Mao had her killed on purpose. But it’s not too much to say that he was responsible for her death. He should have thought about the consequences.”

“Now I understand something Mao said years later,” Chen said, “ ‘For the death of Kaihui, I could not atone by dying hundreds of times.’ He must have written that poem to her out of guilt.”

“I’ve discussed the poem with an old friend, a senior history teacher, who has done extensive research on Mao, and not just about his personal life. He called Mao a man of snake and spider heart, and he believed that Mao got rid of Kaihui that way because he couldn’t afford to let the two women confront each other in the mountains. There is no ruling that out as a possibility, and he actually did similar things to his comrades in the Party.”

“Well, people have opinions and opinions.”

“I don’t want to dwell on it, but the memory of the Mao case has haunted me all these years. When Yu came back to Shanghai as an ‘ex-educated youth,’ I took early retirement so that he could start working at the bureau in my place. That was the main reason, of course, but there was another. The Mao case. Because of it, I am not a worthy cop. We’ve known each other for many years, Chief, but I have never told you about this case. Nor anybody else, not even Yu. It’s a rock on my heart.”

“You did all you could. It was the Cultural Revolution. Why be so hard on yourself?” Chen said with emotion in his voice. “I really appreciate your telling me about the case. It is not only a lesson about how to be a conscientious policeman, but also an enormous help on the assignment I’m going to discuss with you.”

“An assignment concerning Mao, I suppose. What can I do to help?”

“You’re so perceptive. Now you have talked to me about your case, I don’t think I should have any hesitation in talking to you about mine. You’ve helped more than you can imagine.”

“What do you mean, Chief Inspector Chen?”

“I’ve been assigned to my own Mao case, to use the name you called yours. It doesn’t concern him directly, and I’m full of doubts and reservations. For one thing, I used to like his poems, like the one for Kaihui, without knowing anything about the real background. So I could hardly bring myself to believe some aspects of this case. But if Mao did that to Kaihui, he could have easily treated other women similarly.” After a pause, Chen resumed earnestly, “At this stage, I can tell you little about it, because that’s about all I know.”

“I understand,” Old Hunter said. “As for what Mao was capable of doing to his women, you may have heard about what happened to Zizhen. According to the official version, she had to be treated at a Moscow mental hospital, leaving Mao alone in Yan’an, so they sort of ‘naturally separated.’ Then Jiang Qing sneaked in and became Madam Mao. But mind you – Mao was separated, not divorced. Mao made Zizhen stay at the Moscow hospital for years, all alone, speaking no Russian, having no Chinese rice, while he wallowed in his imperial lust for Madam Mao – a sexy B-movie actress.”

“If he acted like that to his wives, first to Yang, then to Zizhen, I have no doubt that he could have done the same to Shang.”

“Shang – do you mean the movie star?”

It was Chen’s turn to summarize his Mao case, which the chief inspector did briefly. Old Hunter listened, understanding now why Chen had come to him instead of his son, Detective Yu. Chen’s summary might have skipped over the details, but there was no point to pushing for them.