Qiu Xiaolong - Enigma of China

“But how?” she said. “How can you help me?”

“Tell me what you know about Zhou-and then, only then, will I be able to find a way.”

“He’s dead because of a pack of cigarettes. How can anything I tell you about him help?”

“What you tell me may help us get the real criminal. The one who was behind all of this. Only by pushing this investigation through to the end will I be able to get everyone else off your back. We have to help each other,” he said, then added gently, “If it would make it a little easier for you, tell me something about yourself, how you started to work for him.”

“My parents have already told you everything, I suppose,” she said. Still, she started telling Chen her version.

About seven years ago, after she graduated from a college in Shanghai, she had gone to England to further her studies. She studied hard and got an MA degree in communications. People believed that she would have a great future, but she couldn’t find a job in England. In the meantime, she used up all the money saved by her not-that-well-off parents. She couldn’t stay in England any longer, so she had no choice but to go back to Shanghai. Once back, she found herself a “haigui”-a derogative term for a returnee from overseas, which was pronounced the same as the word for “sea turtle”-and soon turned into a “haidai,” a derogative term for the jobless from overseas, pronounced the same as the word for “seaweed.”

Then she happened to read about Zhou in the newspapers. He had once lived in the same neighborhood as she, had moved away when she was still very young, and was now an important Party official. In desperation, she contacted him, wondering whether he would remember a little girl from the old neighborhood. He did, and to her surprise, he went out of his way to help her get the job as the secretary in the housing development office. At first, she thought he’d simply taken pity on her, but nothing was simple and pure in the world of red dust. It didn’t take long for her to grasp the true meaning of being a little secretary. She was unwilling, then reluctant, but ultimately resigned. Spring is gone, no one knows where. She was no longer young, and she thought she should feel flattered that a powerful man like Zhou wanted her as a little secretary. Zhou was considerate enough to keep their relations a secret in the office, though possibly more because of his own position, since he had to think about the political consequences. Still, he seemed to care for her in his way, even though he chose not to divorce his wife. He arranged for them to go to England on vacation, where they were able to spend a week like a real couple, staying in the sort of five-star hotels that she had never dreamed of being able to stay at when she was there as a student. It was all at the government’s expense, of course. Then he took her to Shaoxing to buy her a villa. When she asked him why, he told her that there was no telling what might happen to him in the future and that now at least she would have something to fall back on-and wasn’t she glad to own her own home?

Ever since the 95 Supreme Majesty scandal had broken, she’d been living in unceasing trepidation. Though he might not have confided in her about all his dirty business deals, she knew enough to realize that he was finished. As for herself, while she might not end up like him, it was only a matter of time before she was fired. Dang wouldn’t let her keep that crucial position in the department. What’s more, Jiang and his team were putting a lot of pressure on her to speak out against Zhou. She didn’t know what to do, so she called in sick and fled. She needed a break and a place she could quietly think about her options.

“I didn’t think anyone knew about this place,” she concluded.

Her account focused on her own experience, Chen noticed, and it didn’t have much to do with Zhou, though she didn’t try to conceal their relationship.

What could Jiang have wanted from her, considering how anxious he was to have Zhou’s death declared a suicide?

And why had she really fled here, all of a sudden? Presumably there was much pressure put on her, as she claimed, but she should have known that running away only made matters worse.

“What do you intend to do now, Fang?”

“Perhaps I can go back to England. That is, if I’m able to sell the property here.”

“Do you think you could get out of the country? As far as I know, your name and passport picture have been sent to the customs authorities throughout the country.”

She didn’t respond.

“Let’s talk a bit more about Zhou,” Chen said.

“What more can I tell you? Jiang believes I know ‘secrets’ about Zhou, but Zhou always told me that it wouldn’t do me any good to know about his business. I really believe he was trying to keep my interests in mind,” she said, with a catch in her voice. “He told me one day that everything he did for me was because I had been so nice to him in the old neighborhood. Allegedly, as a little girl, I’d flashed a sweet smile at him one day when he was utterly down and out. That was when he was working at a neighborhood production group for seventy cents a day and not seeing any light at the end of the dark tunnel.”

“It’s just like Jia Yucun at the beginning of Dream of the Red Chamber,” Chen commented without elaborating on it. It was possible that the archetype of an appreciation for beauty overwhelmed Zhou.

“I just did what I was supposed to do as the department secretary, never inquisitively or intrusively.”

“Did he have any other secretaries?”

“You mean little secretaries? Not in the office. Some people said that he kept me simply as a cover for other ones. I suppose that’s possible, but I don’t think he had the time for that.”

“But as his secretary, you surely know some of the confidential details about his work.”

“He worked hard and was under a lot of pressure,” she said, discernibly hesitant. “It was not an easy job for him. Nominally, he was the one in charge of land and housing development for the city, but there were so many other officials anxious to have a finger in the pie. He had to walk a tightrope all the time. For instance, there was the scandal of the West Eight Blocks. The head of the Jing’an District practically gave the land away, selling it at an incredibly low price to the developer. The developer got a loan on it for five times the amount he’d paid. Zhou knew about that, but the district head had already gotten approval for the deal from Zhou’s superior. What could Zhou do with those higher-ups who were far more powerful? He didn’t really talk to me about those things, but they weren’t really secrets, not in today’s China.”

“Yes, I have heard of the West Eight Blocks. The head of Jing’an District was shuangguied because of it, but the scandal didn’t touch Zhou. Not at the time.”

“Whatever sort of official Zhou might have been, he was good to me,” she said, her head hanging low. “It’s not fair that Zhou alone was to be punished when it’s really like a chain of crabs bound together on a straw rope-all connected.”

She then went on, repeating what she’d already said, adding nothing new or substantial.

But Chen didn’t believe she was telling him everything. He had to break down her resistance.

“I don’t know how I can help you if you don’t tell me everything,” Chen said, interrupting. He brought out the envelope from Melong and handed it to her. “Take a look.”

Her hand was trembling as she took out the pictures.

“So it was you, Chief Inspector Chen?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was sent copies of these pictures a couple of days ago.”

“Really! I didn’t send those. Do you know who else might have sent them?”