“For a week,” Chen echoed, wondering if he would be lucky enough to take off one day. Still, given the outcome of his skirmish with the gangsters, he should consider himself lucky – only his luck might not hold the next time. “Not a single word about my visit here to the bureau people, Dr. Xia,” he said, rising to leave, when his cell phone shrilled out again.

The number indicated it was a long distance call from Beijing. It was Wang, the head of the Writers’ Association there, whom Chen had touched for information about Diao, the author of Cloud and Rain in Shanghai.

“Diao has just come to Beijing, staying with his daughter.”

“Is he coming back to Shanghai soon?”

“I don’t know. He’s taking care of his grandson at her place, I’ve heard.”

“Well,” Chen said, realizing that could be a job taking weeks or months. “Thank you so much, Chairman Wang. That’s what I need to know. I appreciate it.”

“Can’t you forget about your work for one minute, Chief Inspector Chen?” Dr. Xia said in mounting exasperation. “Take a vacation somewhere where no one can find you. I insist. Get rid of your cell phone too.”

“A vacation – where no one knows me. And no cell phone. Thank you for your suggestion. I’ll think about it, Dr. Xia. I give you my word.”

Indeed, he could use a vacation. In Beijing. To do something about the Mao Case while there under the disguise of a vacation. He left the clinic.

At this stage, Diao could be crucial to the investigation, capable of providing information not only about Shang’s death but also about the special team from Beijing. More importantly, about what they had been looking for at the time. Diao must have done a lot of research for his book, not all of which might have been included in Cloud and Rain in Shanghai.

But the “vacation” meant the chief inspector had to leave the situation here unattended for days. In the face of the new developments, however, Chen considered the trip a worthy gamble.

He had a feeling that Mao was at the center of all the confusion and complications. Instead of focusing on his encounter with the gangsters, or on Yang’s murder case, he would cope, as in a proverb, by taking the firewood out from under the cauldron.

If his attackers took his vacation as being the result of their warning, so be it. They would come to know Chief Inspector Chen better, sooner or later.

Last but not least, there was something else for him in Beijing, he contemplated with a twinge of conscience.

So he turned onto Chengdu Road, from which he might be able to hail a taxi.

On the street corner, an elderly man was dozing in his wheelchair parked on the sidewalk, wearing a pair of sunglasses, with his feet placed high on the handle bar. Not a comfortable position. Chen couldn’t make out why he wanted to take a break like that in his wheel-chair. But then a lot of things made sense to one person, but not at all to others – like his vacation plan.

Chen pulled out his cell phone.

The first call went to Gu. Chen told him about his clash with the gangsters.

“What?” Gu exclaimed in a voice of combined shock and indignation. “Some bastards beat you up in broad daylight? Where are you? I’m coming over this minute.”

“Don’t worry. No broken bones. I’ve seen a doctor. He wants me to take a couple of days off. So I’m thinking of a short vacation,” Chen said. “I’m not sure if the attack is Triad-related, but their weapons and jargon were suspicious.”

“That’s outrageous. I will find out for you. You have my word for it.”

“Have you seen White Cloud lately?”

“Yes. Why, Chief Inspector Chen?”

“One of the gangsters said something about an ugly toad watering its mouth at the sight of a beautiful swan, so it could involve a romantic relationship. But there’s nothing going on between us, you know.”

“Absolutely nothing, I know, though she adores you like anything. You haven’t given her any chance. No, I don’t think she has anything to do with it, but I’ll talk to her about it. At my request, she has made a point of not mentioning you to other people.”

Chen wasn’t so sure about that. She was a young, fashionable girl. And Gu could be so proud of his connections.

“Of late, I’ve helped someone preserve his old house as a historical site. A real estate company concerned may not be pleased with it. The company is called East Wind, supposedly connected to both the black and white ways.”

“East Wind, I think I’ve heard of it. I know some people in the circle. I’ll tell you what. I’ll dig three feet into the ground.”

“You don’t have to go out of your way, Gu.”

“How can you say that, Chief Inspector Chen? Anyone who attacks you attacks me. It’s a slap in my face too,” Gu went on seriously. “In today’s society, there are not too many honest and capable cops like you left. If I do anything, it’s not just for you.”

“But don’t do anything rash. Don’t reveal my identity, either, when you make your inquiries.”

“Don’t worry. Enjoy your vacation. Call me if there is anything else.” Gu added, “Oh, I’ll visit your mother over the weekend. White Cloud will do so too.”

In Confucian classics, the concept of “expediency” is much discussed, his father had once taught him. For the moment, the Mao Case was the overriding priority, justifying whatever means. Gu had helped before, as he would again this time, full of yiqi, like in a martial arts novel. The chief inspector might have to pay him back, eventually, but he didn’t want to worry about it now.

His next call was to Old Hunter. “I’ve just seen Dr. Xia. He said I have suffered a concussion.”

“Did you have an accident?”

“No, I don’t think it was an accident. A couple of gangsters attacked me on the street,” Chen said simply. “To ensure a quiet recovery period, Dr. Xia insists on my taking a vacation – away from the work and worry. Somewhere that no one knows about. No phone calls. I have to take his advice, I’m afraid.”

“But the situation here may develop unexpectedly -”

“I’ll contact you from time to time.”

“Fine – oh, I got hold of someone, someone very reliable, to serve as Jiao’s temporary maid. She may be able to find out something for us.”

“Great. That will really help. Tell her to go to Jiao’s place at her earliest convenience. I’ll let Jiao know about it before I leave. In any emergency situation, you may contact a friend of mine. This is her number. She should know my whereabouts for the next few days.”

It was Ling’s number. For the moment, there was nobody else he could think of. According to Yong, Ling had moved back to her parents’ home.

“Will it be safe to call her?”

“It’s a special ‘red line’ for her high cadre family. You don’t have to worry about its being tapped. But don’t give it to anybody.”

“I understand.”

Old Hunter might have guessed. What would he be thinking about Chen’s sudden vacation? That the romantic chief inspector was impossible, rushing to his ex-girlfriend…

Chen decided not to worry about that, either.

He had to make another phone call, recommending “someone reliable” to Jiao, who had left a message on her cell number while on his way to the Shanghai Railway Station.