Qiu Xiaolong - Death of a Red Heroine

“Under normal circumstances, yes, these are possible options. But in the present political climate, it’s out of the question.”

“So there’s nothing we can do?”

“You’ve done a lot. It’s just that the situation is so complicated at the moment,” Li said. “Of course, that does not mean we cannot do anything. We have to proceed carefully. I will discuss it with some people.”

“Yes, we are always discussing,” Chen said, “but Wu’s applying for a visa to the United States at the very moment.”

“Is that true?”

“Yes,” Chen said. “Wu will get away while we are still discussing and discussing.”

“No he won’t if he is guilty, Comrade Chief Inspector Chen,” Li said slowly. “But there’s something else I want to talk to you about first. It’s about your new assignment.”

“Another assignment?”

“There was an emergency meeting yesterday at the city government hall. About the traffic problem in Shanghai. Traffic, as Comrade Deng Xiaoping has pointed out, is one of the everyday concerns for our people. Now that more people have cars, with new construction going on everywhere and roads being blocked, the traffic situation is becoming a serious problem. Comrade Jia Wei, Director of the Shanghai Metropolitan Traffic Control Office, has been sick for a long time. We have to have someone young and energetic to fill such a position. So I recommended you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, all the people agreed with me. You’ve been appointed temporary acting director of Shanghai Metropolitan Traffic Control. It’s an important position. You will have several hundred people under your command.”

Chen was confounded. It was a promotion, to all appearances. And to a position far beyond a chief inspector’s level. Normally, a cadre of tenth rank would be chosen for such a post. According to an old Chinese saying, his promotion to the position was like a carp jumping over a dragon gate. And it would also be highly lucrative. The latest fashion was for people to drive their own cars, to show their wealth, success, and social status. With more vehicles adding to traffic congestion, the city government had set up strict regulations about issuing vehicle licenses. As a result, license applicants had to pay a considerable “back door” amount in addition to the regular fee. Since most of the private car owners were upstarts, they were willing to pay to get their hands on the wheel. Bribery to traffic control officers had become an open secret.

“I’m so overwhelmed,” Chen said, trying to gain time by resorting to political cliches. “I’m too young for such a position of heavy responsibility. And I have no experience-none whatever in the field.”

“In the nineties, we are getting experience every day. Besides, why shouldn’t we use our young cadres?”

“But I am still working on the Guan case-I am still the head of the special case group-aren’t I?”

“Let me repeat it one more time: No one says that you have been suspended from your job here. The case is not closed-I give you my word as an old Bolshevik with thirty years in the Party. This is an emergency posting, Comrade Chief Inspector Chen.”

Could it be a trap? It would be much easier to connect him with malfeasance in the new position. Or could it be a demotion in the disguise of promotion? Such a tactic was well known in China’s politics. The new job was a temporary one, and after a while he could be justifiably relieved of it, and then of his chief inspectorship at the same time.

Anything was possible.

Outside the window, traffic was heavy along the Fuzhou Road, where a white car came rushing through the intersection recklessly.

A decision flashed through his mind. “You are right, Comrade Party Secretary,” Chen said. “As long as it is the Party’s decision, I accept it.”

“That’s the spirit,” Li said, apparently pleased. “You are going to do a great job there.”

“I will do my best, but I want to ask for something-a free hand. No Commissar Zhang or anybody like him. I need the authorization to do whatever I think necessary. Of course, I’ll report to you, Comrade Party Secretary Li.”

“You’re fully authorized, Comrade Director Chen,” Li said. “You don’t have to go out of your way to report to me.”

“When shall I start?”

“Immediately,” Li said. “As a matter of fact, the people there are waiting for you.”

“Immediately, then.”

As he stood up, ready to walk out of the office, Party Secretary Li added casually, “By the way, you got a phone call from Beijing yesterday. It was a young woman, judging by her voice.”

“She dialed your number?”

“No, she somehow had access to our bureau’s direct line, so it came to my attention. It was during the lunch break. We could not find you, and then I had to attend the meeting at the city hall. Well, her message is ‘Don’t worry. Things are going to change. I’ll contact you again. Ling.’ Her phone number is 987-5324. If you want to call back, you can use our direct line.”

“No, thanks,” he said. “I think I know what this is about.”

Chen knew the number, but he did not want to call back. Not in the company of Party Secretary Li. The Party Secretary was always politically sensitive. Ling’s access to the bureau’s direct line would have spoken for itself. And the phone number in Beijing, too.

She had made another effort to help-in her way.

So how could he be upset with her?

Whatever she did was done for his sake-and at cost to herself.

“So don’t worry,” Party Secretary Li said as Chief Inspector Chen left his office.

Chief Inspector Chen did not even have time to worry.

Downstairs, he saw a black Volkswagen waiting for him at the driveway. The driver, Little Zhou, was all smiles. Party Secretary Li was not just being dramatic about the urgency of the assignment.

“Good news!”

“I don’t know,” Chen said.

“Well, I know. We’re off to your new office,” Little Zhou said. “Party Secretary Li has just told me.”

The traffic was terrible. Chen thought about it, and about his new position, as the car crawled along Yen’an Road. It took them almost an hour to reach the Square Mansion, located at the People’s Square.

“What a location! And you’ll have a car exclusively for yourself, and a driver, too,” Little Zhou said, reaching out of the window before he drove away. “Don’t forget us.”

His new office was a multi-room suite in the Square Mansion in the center of Shanghai. The city government itself was located in the same building, together with a number of important organizations. Such an impressive office site was probably chosen to convince people of the serious attention being paid to traffic congestion by the city authorities, Chen reflected.

“Welcome, Director Chen.” A young girl wearing a pair of silver-rimmed glasses was waiting for him. “I am Meiling, your secretary.”

So he had a personal secretary working for him at a reception area in front of his spacious office. Meiling lost no time showing him the ropes. “The office is not just a department under the Shanghai police bureau. It’s under the joint leadership of the city government and the bureau,” Meiling said. “Even the mayor himself calls in here from time to time.”

“I see,” he said. “So there is a lot of work.”

“Yes, we’ve been terribly busy. Our old director was rushed to the hospital, and we have not had any preparation for your arrival.”

“Neither have I. As a matter of fact, I knew nothing about my appointment until a couple of hours ago.”

“Our old director has been sick for several months,” Meiling said apologetically, “There’s a backlog of work.”