He thought about warning Inspector Rohn, but refrained. What would he tell her? The omnipresence of gangsters would not contribute to a positive image of contemporary China. Whatever the circumstances, he had to keep it in mind that he was working in the national interest. It was not desirable for her to think of the Chinese police or China in a negative way.
Looking at his watch, he decided to phone Party Secretary Li at home. Li invited him to come over to talk.
Li’s residence was located on Wuxing Road, in a high cadre residential complex behind walls. There was an armed soldier standing at the entrance gate and he made a stiff salute to Chen.
Party Secretary Li waited in the spacious living room of a three-bedroom apartment. The room was modestly furnished, but larger than Lihua’s entire home. Chen seated himself on a chair beside a pot of exquisite orchids swaying lightly in the breeze that came through the window, breathing elegance into the room.
There was a long silk scroll on the wall, bearing two lines in kai calligraphy: An old horse resting in the stable still aspires / to gallop thousands and thousands of miles. It was a couplet from Chao Cao’s “Looking out to the Sea,” a subtle reference to Li’s own situation. Prior to the mid-eighties, Chinese high-ranking cadres never retired, hanging on to their positions to the end, but with the changes Deng Xiaoping had introduced into the system, they, too, had to step down at retirement age. In a couple of years, Li would have to leave his office. Chen recognized the red seal of a well-known calligraphist imprinted under the lines. A scroll of his was worth a fortune at an international auction.
“Sorry to come to your home so late, Party Secretary Li,” Chen said.
“That’s okay. I’m alone this evening. My wife is at our son’s place.”
“Your son has moved out?”
Li had a daughter and a son, both in their mid-twenties. Early last year, the daughter got an apartment from the bureau by virtue of Li’s cadre rank. A high-ranking cadre was entitled to additional housing because he needed more space in which to work in the interests of the socialist country. People grumbled behind his back, but no one dared to raise it as an issue in the housing committee meeting. It was surprising that Li’s son, a recent college graduate, had also received his own apartment.
“He moved last month. She is with him tonight, decorating his new home.”
“Congratulations, Party Secretary Li! That’s something worth celebrating.”
“Well, his uncle made a down payment on a small apartment and let him move in,” Li said. “Economic reform has brought about a lot of change in our city.”
“I see,” Chen said. So this was the result of housing reform. The government had started to encourage people to buy their own housing to supplement their work units’ assignments, but few could afford the price-except the newly rich. “His uncle must have done well in his business.”
“He has a small bar.”
Chen was reminded of Old Hunter’s story about Li’s untouchable brother-in-law. Those upstarts were successful not because of their business acumen, but because of their guanxi.
“Teaor coffee?” Li asked with a smile.
“Coffee.”
“Well, I only have instant.”
Then Chen started by briefing Li about the food poisoning incident in Fujian.
Li responded, “Don’t be too suspicious. Some of our Fujian colleagues may not be too pleased with Detective Yu’s presence. It’s their domain, I can understand that. But it goes way too far to accuse them of being connected with a gang. You don’t have any evidence, Chief Inspector Chen.”
“I’m not saying all of them are tied to the triad, but one insider can do a lot of damage.”
“Take a break, Comrade. Both Yu and you are overwrought. There’s no need to imagine yourself fighting in the Bagong Mountains, with every tree and weed an enemy soldier.”
Li referred to a battle during the Jin dynasty, when a panic-stricken general’s imagination turned everything into the enemy chasing him into the mountains. But Chen suspected that it was Li who had lost sight of the enemy. This was no time to take a break. Perceiving a slight change in Li’s attitude toward the investigation, he wondered whether he had done something more than his Party boss had expected.
He shifted his focus to Inspector Rohn’s cooperation, one of Li’s main concerns.
“The Americans are pursuing the investigation in their interests,” Li commented. “It is a matter of course for her to cooperate. As long as they know we are doing our best, we don’t have to worry. That’s all we need to do.”
“That’s all we need to do,” Chen echoed.
“We’ll try to find Wen, certainly, but it may not be easy to accomplish this within the time frame-their time frame. We don’t have to go out of our way for them.”
“I’ve not worked on such a sensitive international case before. Please give me more of your specific instructions, Party Secretary Li.”
“You’ve been doing a great job. The Americans must see that we are trying our best. That’s very important.”
“Thank you,” Chen said, familiar with Li’s way of saying something positive to soften what would follow.
“As an old-timer, I would just like to make a few suggestions. Your visit to Old Ma, for example, may not have been an excellent choice. Ma is a good doctor. No question about it. I still remember your effort to help him.”
“Why not, Party Secretary Li?”
“The Mas have their reasons to complain about our system,” Li said, frowning. “Have you told Inspector Rohn the story of Dr. Zhivago in China?”
“Yes, she asked me about it.”
“You see, the Cultural Revolution was a national disaster. A lot of people suffered. Such a story is nothing new here, but may be sensational to an American.”
“But that happened even before the Cultural Revolution.”
“Well, that’s like what happens in an investigation,” Li said. “You are not doing anything now, but it’s still what you have already done.”
Chen was astonished by Li’s reproof, which was not totally irrelevant.
“Also, I’m concerned by the accident in Zhu’s place. Those old houses with dark, rotten staircases. Fortunately, nothing serious has happened, or the American might really get suspicious.”
“Well-” I really am suspicious, Chen did not say.
“That’s why I want to reemphasize that you must provide a safe and satisfactory stay for Inspector Rohn. Think of something else to do. You have served as an escort for Westerners. A cruise on the river is a must for a tourist. And a visit to the Old City.” Li said, “I’m going to invite her to a Beijing Opera. I’ll let you know as soon as I have made arrangements.”
So Party Secretary Li actually wanted him to stop the investigation, though he did not say so explicitly.
Why? Chen was perplexed. There were so many possible points for him to ponder over. As he had suspected, he’d been given this assignment more for the appearance of carrying out an investigation than to obtain a result. If he was going to do a real job, it would have to be done without the bureau’s knowledge.
He tried to clear his mind on the way home, but he was still exasperated when his apartment building came in sight.
Turning on the light in his apartment, he compared his strikingly plain room with Li’s. No exquisite orchids breathing the owner’s elegant taste. No silk scrolls sporting the calligraphy of renowned scholars. A room is like a woman, incapable of standing comparison, he reflected.
He took out the cassette tape of Yu’s interview in the village. It had been express-mailed to his home. The information provided by Wen’s neighbors was not really new. The apathy shared by them was also understandable, considering what Feng had done during the Cultural Revolution.
To some extent, the chief inspector thought he could understand the isolation Wen had inflicted upon herself. During his first few years in the police bureau, he had also alienated himself from his former friends who had started teaching in colleges or interpreting at the Foreign Ministry. A cop’s career had not been his expectation for himself, nor his friends’. Ironically, that was one of the reasons that he had thrown himself into translating and writing in those days.