Qiu Xiaolong - Death of a Red Heroine

A young waitress came in. She was wearing an indigo blue homespun top and a miniskirt, barefoot, with silver bangles jingling around her ankles, exactly like a fishing girl in the southern provinces-except for the menu in her hand.

He turned the menu over to Xie. She surprised him by choosing several inexpensive dishes, and shaking her head at one of the chef’s specials-fish-fragrance-sauced pigeon-recommended by the waitress.

“No, it’s too expensive.”

“Anything to drink?”

“Just a cup of water for me.”

“Well, we’ll have two iced beers then.”

“You shouldn’t. They charge three or four times more than they should for drinks,” she added after the waitress had left, almost like a virtuous wife who wanted to save every penny. Good. Chief Inspector Chen was starting to worry about the expense.

“I thought you’d take me to the police station,” she said.

“Why should I?”

“Maybe you will.” She reached into the leather handbag, took out a cigarette, but did not light it immediately. “Sooner or later.”

“No, whatever you do, it’s not my business-not here. But I don’t think it a good idea for you to stay… in that profession.”

“You are being genteel,” she said. “I do not like what you do either, but it is not so bad that I won’t have lunch with you.”

Smiling, she raised her glass toward him, relaxing as more dishes arrived on the table. The restaurant was known among Guangdong people for its excellent cooking.

At one point, their chopsticks crossed each other in an attempt to get hold of a large scallop on a bed of green snow beans.

“Please, you have it,” she said.

“It’s yours,” he said, “after all your work.”

The scallop looked like her big toe. White, soft, round.

She ate with relish, finishing four pancakes rolled up with roast duck and green onion, a bowl of shrimp dumplings, and almost the entire serving of beef tripe. He himself did not eat much but he put morsels in her saucer and sipped at his cup of Qingdao beer.

“Do you always eat this little?” she asked.

“I’m not hungry,” he said, afraid there would not be enough food for both of them.

“You are so romantic,“ she said.

“Really?” That was a strange compliment, he thought, to a police officer.

There was something touching his knee under the table. As it slowly traveled up, he knew it was her bare foot. She had removed her shoes. He clasped her leg where it was thinnest, and his hand became an ankle bracelet, slipping down. The shape of her smallest toe, bending with the adjoining ones, was distracting him in a way beyond his comprehension. Gently, he put her foot down.

Confucius said, “To eat and to mate is human nature.”

“What about a special dessert?” he asked.

“No, thank you.”

They shared segments of a Mandarin orange and sipped at the jasmine tea-compliments of the restaurant.

“Now I’m full,” she said. “You can start your questioning. But tell me first, how did you find me here?”

“Well, I had met your mother. She has no idea what you’re doing in Guangzhou. She’s so worried.”

“She’s always worried-all her life-about one thing or another.”

“She’s disappointed, I believe, that you did not take her path.”

“Her path, indeed?” she said. “Dear Comrade Chief Inspector, how can you go about investigating people without seeing the change in society? Who’s interested in literature anymore?”

“I, for one. In fact, I’ve read a collection of her essays.”

“I do not mean you. You’re so different, as Old Ouyang said.”

“Another of your bogus compliments?”

“No, I think so, too,” she said. “As for my mother, I love her. Her life’s not been easy. She got her Ph. D. in the United States. What happened to her when she came back in the early fifties? She was declared to be a rightist, and then a counterrevolutionary in the sixties. Not until after the Cultural Revolution was she allowed to teach again.”

“But she is teaching at a prestigious university.”

“Well, as a full professor at Fudan University, how much can she earn in a month? Less than what I made as a tourist guide for a week.”

“Money is not everything. But for a joke of fate, I might have studied comparative literature.”

“Thank heaven for that joke-whatever it was.”

“Life can be unfair to people-especially so for your mother’s generation-but we have reasons to believe that things won’t be so bad in the future.”

“For you, maybe not, Comrade Chief Inspector. And thank you for your political lecture, too,” she said. “I think it’s time that you start asking your questions.”

“Well, some may be difficult. But whatever you say will be kept confidential, I give you my word.”

“I’ll tell you whatever I know-after such a meal as you’ve just given me.”

“You had worked as a tourist guide before coming to Guangzhou.”

“Yes, I quit that job a couple of months ago.”

“On one of the Yellow Mountain trips, you met a man named Wu Xiaoming?”

“Wu Xiaoming? Oh yes, I remember him.”

“He had a girlfriend with him during the trip, hadn’t he?”

“Yes,” she said, “but at first I did not know it.”

“When did you come to know this?”

“The second or the third day of the trip. But why, Comrade Chief Inspector? What makes me worth your trip to Guangzhou?”

“She was murdered last month.”

“What?”

He produced a picture out of his briefcase. She took it over, and her fingers holding the picture trembled.

“That’s her.”

“She was Guan Hongying, a national model worker, and Wu Xiaoming’s our suspect. So what you know about the two of them may be very important.”

“Before I say anything,” she said, looking into the glass in her hand, and then up at him, “I want you to answer a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Are you aware of his family background?”

“Of course, I’m aware of that.”

“Then why do you want to pursue the investigation?”

“It’s my job.”

“Come on, there are so many cops in China. You’re not the only one. Why are you so dedicated?”

“I’m… a romantic cop, as you have said. I believe in justice. Poetic justice if you want to call it that.”

“You think you can bring him down.”

“We have a good chance. That’s why I need your cooperation.”

“Oh,” she said softly, “you really are special. No wonder Old Ouyang likes you so much. Now that you have answered my questions, I will answer yours.”

“What was your first impression of them?”

“I cannot remember exactly, but one of the first things I noticed about them was their assumed names.”

“How could you tell?”

“Wu registered for both of them in our office. He had to change a character stroke in his signature.”

“You’re very observant,” he said. “No one makes a mistake with his own signature.”

“What’s more, they registered as a couple, asking for a double room, but instead of showing their marriage license, he only provided me with a statement on official letterhead. Normally, it would be much easier to show the license.”

“I see.” He nodded. “Did you talk to your boss about your suspicion?”

“No, it was just an idea that crossed my mind. In the mountains, I noticed something else.”

“What’s that?”

“It was the second morning, I think. I happened to pass by their room. A perfect day, and everybody was having a wonderful time outside. I saw something like continuous flashing inside their room through the blinds. I felt curious-and a bit responsible too. So I peeped in. I was shocked to see Guan posing nude, on all fours, her legs wide apart, her forehead pressing against her forearms on the ground, like a kneeling dog. He was taking pictures of her. Now why should a couple come all the way to a mountain hotel room to take those pictures?”