Qiu Xiaolong - Shanghai Redemption

“The First Lady-” Yu cut in. He’d heard that before, but referring to her that way publicly was taboo in China’s politics. That title was reserved for the wife of the Party’s general secretary, the number one. “But what does all that have to do with Chen?”

“It’s about making sure all the prince’s men are lined up behind him. That’s an absolute necessity in China’s politics. Is Chen one of Lai’s men? Hardly, and if he’s not, how can Lai allow Chen to remain in such a crucial position? He can’t. He can’t afford anyone who isn’t completely loyal. The Party congress scheduled for the end of the year is Lai’s big opportunity, and there’s not even the slightest chance he’ll risk letting anyone spoil that for him.”

Peiqin knew what she was talking about. However, it was one thing to remove Chen from his crucial position in the police department, and it was another to go after him relentlessly, determined to publicly destroy him. Events were coming to a crucial juncture, with the Party congress coming up, and such a move against Chen could backfire. Chen had been a popular chief inspector, having conducted a number of high profile anticorruption investigations.

“There’s also one post about your new position,” she said. “It’s in relation to your investigation of the Liang case.”

“What about it?”

“Commenters have proposed a lot of different interpretations, speculating about what really happened to Liang. Generally, they believe that Liang was caught off guard but that he had been preparing for his exit, securing a passport or even several of them, a long time ago. So as soon as the Internet started buzzing about him, posting evidence of his corruption, he fled.”

“But there’s no record of him leaving the country.”

“He could have sneaked out under another name, with a false passport, or he could be in hiding somewhere in the country. With all the money that he’s hoarded away, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to lie low for a while and then, when the time is right, stage a comeback.”

“You’re right, Peiqin,” he said, finishing the cake. “But I think I have to leave early this morning. There are so many pending cases that the squad is investigating.”

“You go ahead. After I finish preparing the dishes for Chen’s mother, I’ll go see her at the hospital, and then I’ll leave for the restaurant around noon.”

Yu didn’t explain what he was going to be working on that day. Yesterday, Party Secretary Li had initiated another talk with him, asking questions about the squad’s work, focusing on the progress of the Liang case. Li seemed anxious for Yu to declare it a “cold case.” In other words, a case that wasn’t yet resolved, but one on which there was no more productive work to be done.

Yu called Xiao Yang, a young officer in the squad, telling him that he had to take care of something and would be in later. After hanging up, he headed to the subway entrance near Huangpi Road.

Liang’s company was located on West Nanjing Road. According to the company profile, there wasn’t a factory or workshop at that location. In the Shanghai dialect, such a company was sometimes called a briefcase company, meaning all of its assets could be put into a briefcase.

But to his surprise, when he got there, the company had a large, luxuriously decorated office in a tall building next to Henglong Center, another new landmark in Shanghai. The office was partitioned into a large number of cubicles, but there were only five or six people there. The phones, however, were ringing constantly. The office manager, a man named Jun, received Yu with an ill-concealed mixture of indifference and impatience.

“Your people have already been here. What more can I possibly tell you? We’re more anxious than anybody to learn what’s happened to Liang. His wife, Wei, is worried sick.”

“You’ve heard nothing new?”

“Nothing. But in the meantime, we have to keep the business going, and it’s been very difficult. So please find him as soon as possible. He’s not shuangguied, is he?”

Shuanggui-“double gui” or “twin designations”-was something beyond the legal system. A corrupt Party official might be detained for inter-Party interrogation at a specific place (the first gui ), for a specific time (the second gui ), before going through any legal procedure. It was done to protect the interests of the Party. This way, whatever details the corrupt official might spill wouldn’t come out in the media. If a Party official wasn’t shuangguied, then it might mean he wasn’t in serious trouble.

Yu ignored Jun’s question and instead asked, “How long have you worked here, Manager Jun?”

“More than three years.”

“So you would be able to answer the questions being raised on the Internet about your company’s incredibly lucrative deals from the government?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, Comrade Detective Yu. I work under his wife, and I’m only responsible for PR. The boss didn’t share any confidential details about the company’s business transactions.” Jun went on after a pause, “You know we supply parts for the new high-speed trains, don’t you? For a country with such a huge population, the importance of the high-speed rail can’t be exaggerated. In less than ten years, we’ve already surpassed the rail systems of America and the more advanced European countries. The safety, as well as the quality, of our products is not just critically important, it’s a political priority.”

Jun’s answer sounded like glib propaganda, an echo from an article in the People’s Daily .

“But your company only supplies chairs and tables for the new trains.”

“Nonetheless, they are integral part of those trains. The designs were studied and restudied, and our products meet all the quality requirements. Everything has to be the best, a point that has been made again and again, and everything we did was legitimate. You can’t pay attention to irresponsible hearsay on the Internet,” Jun said, raising his voice. “If you have any more questions, you have go through our representatives, the Kaitai law firm. Our bid to supply parts for the high-speed rail project was arranged through them.”

Jun handed him a business card.

“Their offices are nearby, in Commerce City. It’s just a block away, on Nanjing Road.”

Yu took the card, surprised at the hostility in Jun’s voice. So far it was still a missing person case, but given all the evidence posted about the company’s practices on the Internet, there was no reason for a PR manager to be this uncooperative.

There was also something strange in the way Jun had referred him the law firm. It was as if he thought he was playing a trump card.

Afterward, Yu made his way to Kaitai LLC in the Shanghai Commerce City, one of the top office buildings in the city. To his amazement, the law firm occupied nearly half a floor, and an impressive sign outside the suite indicated that it had branch offices in Beijing and Hong Kong.

A partner in the law firm named Dai received Yu in an office that overlooked West Nanjing Road. Dai was seated at a large mahogany desk, with a laptop next to a desktop computer, and what looked like a tablet as well. On the white wall behind him, there was an impressive array of pictures of Party officials and business tycoons. Some of the people in the pictures were foreigners, including a president of a European country. Yu recognized only a few of them.

Dai turned out to be far more polite than Jun, but also far more guarded.

“The city government people came to us about Liang and his business transactions. We were told not to discuss the sensitive details with anybody else. Besides, Liang is neither charged nor shuangguied. He’s simply disappeared. We’re not obliged to say anything.” Dai added with a smile, “Of course, if you have some general questions, I’ll try my best to help.”