Qiu Xiaolong - Death of a Red Heroine

“It’s Old Comrade Yu talking with somebody in there,” Meiling said in a subdued voice. “He wanted to bring the man into your office. For an important case, he said. He’s our adviser. So I had to let them in.”

“You did the right thing,” he assured her.

They overheard Old Hunter saying, “Why are you trying so hard to save someone else’s ass, you sucker? You know our Party’s policy, don’t you?”

“Comrade Adviser Yu is right.” Chen opened the door upon a sight he had foreseen: Old Hunter stood like a Suzhou opera singer talking dramatically to a man slumped in the chair.

The man was in his early forties, lanky, narrow-shouldered, with a suggestion of a hunchback. The photo of the stranger on top of Guan flashed through Chief Inspector Chen’s mind. This was the man.

“Ah, Director Chen,” Old Hunter said, “you’re back just in time. This S.O.B. has not spilled the beans yet.”

“He is-”

“Guo Qiang. He was driving a white Lexus-without a license.”

“Guo Qiang,” Chen said. “You know why you are here today?” Chen said.

“I don’t know,” Guo said. “Driving without a license is a minor offense. Just give me a ticket. You’ve no right to keep me here.”

“You sound like a happily innocent man,” Old Hunter said. “Whose car is it?”

“Take a good look at the white plate. It’s not difficult to guess.”

“Wu Xiaoming’s car-or rather Wu Bing’s car, right?”

“Yes. So you should let me go now.”

“Well, that is the very reason why you are being held here,” Chen said. “I tell you what. We have been watching you for days.”

“Why-so you’ve purposely trapped me,” Guo said. “You will regret it.”

“Comrade Adviser Yu,” Chen said to the old man, “thank you for bringing this suspect to us. From now on, it’s no longer a traffic violation case. I’m taking it over.”

“My last piece of advice to you, young man,” Old Hunter said, grinding out his cigarette. “Use your brains. Don’t you know who Comrade Chen Cao is? The new Metropolitan Traffic Control Director, as well as chief inspector of homicide, and head of the special case group, Shanghai Police Bureau. The game is over. You’d better come clean. A cooperative witness will be punished with leniency. Director Chen-Chief Inspector Chen-I should say-may work out a deal for you.”

As Old Hunter left the office, Chen stepped out, too, walking him to the elevator. “Have the car thoroughly examined, especially the trunk,” he said in a subdued voice, “for any evidence.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m going to do, Chief Inspector Chen.”

“Do it in an official way, Comrade Adviser Yu.” He held the door for the old man. “Have some other officer work together with you. Ask him to sign for anything, too.”

When he moved back to the office, he said to Meiling, “It’s important that we not be disturbed.”

“Now,” he said to Guo, closing the door, “let’s have a talk.”

“I’ve got nothing to say,” Guo said, folding his arms across his chest and staring defiantly ahead.

“We are not talking about a license or speed limits. It is about Guan Hongying’s case.”

“I know nothing about it.”

“In your testimony,” Chen said, producing a file folder from the cabinet, “you said that on the night of May tenth, Wu Xiaoming drove to your home around nine thirty. Wu turned your study into a darkroom, and stayed there for the night, developing his films. On that same night, a white Lexus was seen at a gas station about five miles from the Baili Canal. It was in that very canal that Guan’s body was found the following day. And it was Wu Xiaoming’s car, no mistake about it. We have the receipt bearing the gas ration coupon number. So who was the driver that night?”

“Wu might have lent his car to somebody else. How can I be responsible for that?”

“According to your testimony, Wu’s car was parked right in front of your home. Wu did not step out of the darkroom for one minute throughout the night. You were very emphatic. But you did not say that you yourself did not leave during the night. You had the car keys, as you do today. So you must have been the driver- unless you are providing a false alibi for Wu.”

“You cannot bluff people like that, Comrade Chief Inspector. Whatever you may say, I did not drive the car that night. Period.”

“You may call it a bluff, but we have a witness.”

“There’s nothing your witness can say against me. It’s the nineties now, no longer a time when you can detain a person just as you please. If it’s a case concerning Wu, don’t put pressure on me.”

“Don’t give me that,” Chen said, reaching for his briefcase. “I’m not talking about Wu, but about you. About obstruction of justice, perjury, and being an accessory to a homicide. You said in your testimony that you did not know who Guan was. False. Let me show you something.”

Chen produced a picture. The picture of Guan with a man on top of her. “Take a close look,” he said. “This was taken in Wu Xiaoming’s mansion, wasn’t it? Tell me that’s not you.”

“I don’t know anything about the picture,” Guo said doggedly, but with a hint of panic in his voice.

“You lied in your testimony, Mr. Guo Qiang,” Chen said, taking a leisurely sip of his tea. “You won’t get away with it.”

“I did not kill her,” Guo said, wiping away the sweat that had begun to bead on his forehead. “Whatever you say, you have no evidence to prove it.”

“Listen, even if we cannot nail you for the murder, the picture alone is enough cause to lock you up for seven or eight years. Plus your false testimony. Fifteen years, I’d say. You will be an ancient, white-haired hunchback when you walk out again. I’ll make sure you will have a wonderful time in there. You have my word on it.”

“You’re threatening me.”

“Think about your family, too. How will your wife react when she gets hold of that picture? Will she wait for you for twenty or more years? I don’t think so. You were married just last year, weren’t you? Think about her, if not about yourself.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Of course I can. So here is your chance: Work with me. Tell us what you know about Wu and Guan, and what Wu did on May tenth. A deal may be possible.”

“So you really think you can touch Wu?”

Chen understood the doubt in Guo’s mind.

He opened his briefcase again. In it was the envelope of the Party Central. Ling might have purposely chosen it for others to see. He had been carrying it with him. Not for any sentimental reason. He did not want to leave the letter at home with Internal Security snooping around.

“This is a case,” he said, flashing the envelope at Guo, “directly under the Central Party Committee.”

“So-” Guo stammered, staring at the envelope, “it’s a decision at the highest level.”

“Yes, the highest level. Now, you’re a clever man. Wu must have tipped you off about his maneuvers against me. What’s the result? I’m still chief inspector, and metropolitan traffic control director, too. Why? Think about it.”

“They are planning something against the old cadres?”

“That is your interpretation,” Chen said. “But if you think Wu will help you, you are dead wrong. Wu would be only too happy to have a scapegoat.”

“Are you sure you can work out a deal for me?”

“I’ll do my best, but you have to tell me everything.”

“Let me think-” Guo lifted his gaze from the envelope to Chen’s face and slumped further into the chair, making his hunchback more pronounced. “Where shall I start?”

“How did you come to know about the relationship between Wu and Guan?”