Qiu Xiaolong - Shanghai Redemption

“I’m worried.”

That was all Jiang could say at that moment.

Chen glanced at his watch, rose, and pushed the wall of mahjong pieces down to the table with a bang, “I have an appointment at noon back in the city. Give me your cell number, and I’ll call you if I learn anything about Fei. Of course, don’t tell anyone about our conversation in the mahjong room.”

CHEN DIDN’T HAVE AN appointment in the city at noon, as he’d told Jiang, but he did take a taxi back to the railway station. This time, he had a train to catch.

On the train to Wuxi, he called Huang of the Wuxi Police Department. Not too long ago, Chen had helped with one of Huang’s cases in Wuxi. Huang was a young and energetic cop, a fan of Sherlock Holmes, and consequently of Chen. The “legendary chief inspector,” however, was a construct of his imagination.

As Chen expected, Huang was more than willing to help.

“No problem, Chief Inspector. I know Gong quite well. I’ll have him waiting for you at the restaurant in Turtle Head Park. It’ll be my treat. I’ll also reserve a hotel room for you under my name.”

Huang took it for granted that Chen was on a secret mission. In a way, Chen was. Unlike the others, Huang thought Chen’s new position was just a cover for some highly sensitive investigation. Exuberant despite Chen’s protests, he remembered well the details of Chen’s last trip to Wuxi.

“If there’s anything else you want me to do, I’m at your service. I’ve read that long poem of yours several times. It’s so romantic. I know-”

Chen stopped him, knowing what the young cop wanted to say next. It wasn’t the time for him to think about his poetry’s being romantic.

Around five thirty, Chen walked into the restaurant in the park. The last time he’d been in Wuxi, he’d gone to the park many times, but never to the restaurant, which was a tourist trap.

Huang and a middle-aged man, presumably Gong, were waiting at a table. Gong was a stout man with a reddish complexion and gray-streaked hair. He made quite a contrast to the dapper, energetic Huang.

“After your last trip, I doubt you’re interested in the lake specials, so I’ve chosen some simple dishes. It’s a great honor to have you with us, Chief Inspector.”

As a local cop, Huang knew only too well about the polluted lake.

“It’s getting a little better, or at least the lake looks a little better, but I won’t risk eating anything that came out of it,” Gong said.

It wasn’t the night for a leisurely dinner, but having skipped breakfast, and then lunch, Chen hadn’t had eaten anything except an almond biscuit on the train. Chen chopsticked up a piece of Wuxi barbequed rib with a sigh of contentment.

Before they touched the other cold dishes on the table, though, Huang stood up abruptly, saying, “Sorry, I have to make a phone call.”

It could be true. But more likely, it was just an excuse to give Chen and Gong the opportunity to talk in private.

“Huang has read too many mysteries,” Gong said. He took a gulp of beer, then came directly to the point. “You have some questions for me, Chief Inspector Chen?”

“Yes, about Fei.”

“Fei-that’s something that puzzles me, too. Fei is an old friend of mine. Many years ago, we were both educated youths in Jiangxi, and since then we’ve remained in close contact. We both thought this assignment would be an opportunity for us to catch up. I picked him up at the station, then drove him to the hotel. He didn’t say much about the job. It could have been highly sensitive, and I understood. We were eating in the hotel cafeteria when he got a phone call. He stepped out to take it, and when he came back, he obviously had something on his mind. About twenty minutes later, a jeep came and took him away. He said that it was for the job, and insisted that I not come out with him because I looked too flushed from the beer. He promised he would call me soon, but he didn’t call that night. He didn’t call the second day, possibly because he was too busy, so I called him that evening. His phone was turned off. I tried again on the third day, but still no luck. Then I called his hotel, and to my surprise, I was told he’d already checked out. The checkout was done over the phone. Of course, that’s possible. As I recall, he only had a backpack with him, when we were in the cafeteria. But if he was leaving, he should have let me know.”

“Yes, he should have called you.”

“I assumed that, instead of contacting me, he’d hurried back to Shanghai. This afternoon, I called his office, and his partner, Jiang, was no less puzzled. Fei hadn’t come back, nor had he contacted him.”

“This morning, I talked with Jiang too,” Chen said, “and he told me that he’s worried. He mentioned that Fei has a daughter in Beijing, but he doesn’t have her number.”

“I have it at home. She did a summer internship here two years ago. I’ll give her a call tonight.” Gong added reflectively, “But it’s all really strange.”

“Anything specific that struck you as strange?”

Gong shook his head in dismay.

“I’m just so worried, Chief-”

He was interrupted by Huang returning to the table, his phone in hand. Huang slumped into his seat, took a large gulp at the beer, and mentioned that he’d made several phone calls. Then he turned to Chen.

“By the way, I’ve just double-checked, Chief Inspector. Your friend is still here, still alone, still in the same old dorm building. Here’s the new number,” Huang said, writing down the number on a paper napkin and pushing it across the table.

Chen thought he knew what number Huang was talking about, and he put the napkin in his pants pocket, nodding his appreciation.

“I’ll call his daughter,” Gong repeated, “and some other people he may have contacted.”

“And you have my number, Gong,” Chen said. “Call me if you learn anything about Fei. I usually stay up late. I’m taking the train back to Shanghai in the morning.”

Chen had decided to come on the spur of the moment, and while he hadn’t expected miracles, the trip to Wuxi had been a disappointment.

After dinner, Huang drove him to the hotel.

“Call me if there’s anything you want me to do,” Huang repeated as he started the car. “I know you can always pull off a masterstroke.”

How there could be anything like a masterstroke from him? Chen wondered.

The hotel wasn’t fancy, but it was located close to the lake. Nothing about the neighborhood seemed even vaguely familiar. When he got the room key, Chen asked the front desk for a map of the area, though it was too late for him to go out. Then it hit him.

The hotel was close to Shanshan’s dorm. Huang had told him at the restaurant that she was still there. That was why Huang had picked this hotel.

Only he was in no mood to visit Shanshan tonight. He’d heard, since his last trip to Wuxi, that she was still single but was applying to study in UK. What was the point seeing her while he was in the midst of all this trouble?

Back in his room, he checked the train schedule for the morning. There was a fast train leaving for Shanghai at eight thirty. He dialed the front desk and asked them to book a ticket for him.

He felt tired, yet his mind was far from ready to take a break. He didn’t want to start working in the hotel room, which struck him as stuffy, so he changed his mind about going out. He left the hotel and walked over to the lake.

The lake looked dark green under the starlight. Here and there, he could still see patches of algae. A lone waterbird flapped off into the darkness.

Perching on a rock by the waterfront, he went over what had happened that day, making notes in his memory. It had been a long day, but he’d succeeded only in exhausting himself, like so many times before, without getting anywhere.