Qiu Xiaolong - Death of a Red Heroine

So there was all the routine work he would have to familiarize himself with-documents to read, officers to meet, reports to review, and calls to make. Several papers were already waiting his signature.

Following Meiling, he made a tour of his office suite. There were several computers in each room, forming a network for metropolitan traffic control. In spite of the evening computer courses he had taken, he would require two or three weeks to become familiar with the system. A director’s responsibilities consisted not only of dispatching traffic police officers, but also maintaining close cooperation with the public transportation bureau, the construction bureau, and the city government.

After the tour, Chen felt even more disoriented. Earlier in the morning, he had been ready to quit, believing that his career coming to an end. Now he was sitting at an impressive desk, the tall window behind him overlooking the People’s Square, with the afternoon sunlight shining on his brass director’s plaque.

But he did not have the time to ponder this unexpected change. Meiling handed him a copy of the department newsletter. “The latest issue, just delivered to us.”

It was an edition focusing on traffic violation cases. Most of the offenders were quite young. Yet they might be seriously punished, for the report’s tone sounded politically serious. Some might even get ten or fifteen years.

He leaned back in his swivel chair, feeling both exhausted and exhilarated, watching Meiling arrange the papers neatly in a pile on the desk. His first secretary. It was wonderful to have one. He was intrigued by the difference produced by a female presence in the office.

He settled down to the work.

The day turned out to be much longer than he had expected. He told Meiling to go home at six. By the time he himself was able to leave his office, it was already past eight.

Little Zhou’s guess was right. Chen had a car for himself, and a driver, too, who had called his office asking when he would be needed. He declined the offer; as the director of the Shanghai Traffic Control Office, he felt obliged to learn the situation firsthand. With my horse galloping jubilantly in the spring wind, I see the flowers all over Luoyang in one day.

The decision to take the bus home instead of his car cost him another hour. The bus came to a stop in bumper-to-bumper traffic at Henan Road. The weather was hot, and the passengers cursed the stuffy air loudly. He, too, grew inexplicably exasperated- involved in the collective angst of the city. Still, it was an ethical necessity for him, he believed, to experience the traffic ordeal as one of the ordinary Shanghai people.

It was not until he had reached his apartment, and lit a cigarette, that he was able to look back at the day’s events. He should have been elated by the unexpected promotion, but its very unexpectedness was disturbing to him. Why should he, of all people, have been chosen to fill such an important position?

A man, once bitten by a snake, would be nervous all his life at the shadow of a straw rope.

Yet it did not appear to be a trap. He thought about the last remark by Party Secretary Li as he left Li’s office, about Ling’s long distance call from Beijing. Was his promotion just due to her family? That was what he dreaded.

C hief Inspector Chen-”Director Chen”-lost no time in exercising his new authority, as he sat in the leather swivel chair against a wall plastered with street and transport maps, looking down at the people moving about in the People’s Square.

One of the first few instructions he had dictated to Meiling was to summon Old Hunter to the office. As the old man had been working as a temporary traffic patrol officer, it was not difficult for Meiling to page him. Old Hunter arrived at the office, as Meiling was ready to leave. Chen asked her to stay, saying, “Don’t go, Meiling. Please get me the regulations regarding an adviser’s position for our department. Compensation, as well as the other benefits.”

“They are all in the cabinet,” Meiling said. “I’ll find them.”

“Congratulations. Chief Inspector Chen-oh no, Director Chen,” Old Hunter said as he examined the impressive office furniture. “Everybody says you are doing a wonderful job.”

“Thank you, Comrade Old Yu. It’s my second day here. As a new hand, I need your valuable help.”

“I’ll do whatever I can, Director Chen.”

“You’ve worked as a traffic officer. So one of the problems you must have noticed, I believe, is the problem of traffic accidents. These accidents cause not only casualties, but also serious traffic jams.”

“That’s true,” Old Hunter said, casting a curious glance at Meiling, who was kneeling on the floor, busily searching in the drawer of the tall file cabinet.

“I believe it is partially because more and more people are driving around without a license.”

“You’re right. Driving has become a fashion. Everybody wants to have his hands on the wheel. Driving school is way too expensive, and takes a long time, so some people go without a license.”

“Yes, this is really dangerous.”

“Exactly. Those young people-quite a number of them- seem to believe they’re born drivers. Totally irresponsible.”

“That is why I want you to do something-a sort of experiment. Choose one particular area, station yourself there, and look out for those licenseless drivers. If you have a hunch, stop the car for a checkup. Don’t just give a violator a ticket, take him into custody-no matter who he may be.”

“Good idea,” Old Hunter said. “As that old saying goes, you have to use a strong drug for a desperate disease.”

“And report to me directly.”

“That’s fine. Like son, like father. Where are you going to put me?”

“What about Jingan District? As for a particular street, you pick one. My suggestion is to start with Henshan Road.”

“Oh, Henshan Road-yes.” Old Hunter’s eyes sparkled. “I see, Chief Inspector Chen-no, Director Chen.”

“It’s an important task,” Chen said earnestly. “Only a veteran like you would be up to it. So I’d like to appoint you as our special adviser. You will have a couple of police officers under your command.”

“No, you don’t have to create a position for me, Director Chen. I will do my best anyway.”

“Meiling,” Chen said, turning to his secretary, “when you find the compensation regulation, send Adviser Yu the money in accordance with it.”

“I’ve already got it,” Meiling said, “A check can be cut right away.”

“That’s great. Thank you.”

“No,” Old Hunter protested in embarrassment. “I’d rather be a volunteer.”

“No, you will be paid, and you will have your men, too. That’s your authority. I just want to emphasize one point: Do whatever you are supposed to-no matter whose car it may be-with a white plate or not.”

“Got you, Comrade Director Chen.”

Chen believed he had made himself clear to Old Hunter-in Meiling’s presence.

Old Hunter should be able to detain whoever drove the white Lexus-at least for one day. If anything went wrong, Old Hunter was no more than a traffic police officer carrying out his responsibilities. So there was one thing Chen was now able to do about Guan’s’ case.

The result came faster than he had expected.

On Thursday, he attended a field meeting in the morning. The mayor inspected the project connecting the banks of the Huangpu River by the Yangpu Bridge. Once it was completed, the bridge would also alleviate the traffic congestion in the area. Chen had to be there too, mixing with a group of cadres, walking back and forth along the bridge.

When he returned to the office, Meiling pointed her finger at his closed office door with a slightly puzzled expression on her face. Approaching, he could hear a high-pitched voice inside his office. “It’s no good denying it, Guo Qiang!”