Peter May - The Fourth Sacrifice

‘Where is Mei Yuan?’ he asked, perplexed.

The woman said, ‘She had to go to the public security bureau to renew her licence. So she asked me to make her jian bings this morning.’

‘When will she be back?’

‘I don’t know. In a few hours, perhaps.’ The woman paused. ‘Who are you?’

‘Li Yan,’ he said, and her face opened up in a smile.

‘Ah, Li Yan. She has told me all about you. I am Jiang Shimei, her cousin.’ She held out her hand to shake his. ‘You looked after Mei Yuan when she was not well.’ She looked at Xinxin. ‘Is this your daughter?’

‘No.’ Li was embarrassed. ‘She is my niece.’

‘She is very beautiful.’ Jiang Shimei stooped to run fingers lightly down Xinxin’s cheek. ‘What is your name, little one?’

‘Xinxin.’

‘Xinxin? What a lovely name.’

‘Can you put my hair in bunches?’ Xinxin asked suddenly, and she dug into the pockets of her little green pinafore to produce two pink elasticated bands with plastic cartoon fox heads. ‘My Uncle Yan is hopeless. He says he doesn’t know how.’

‘Of course,’ Jiang Shimei said, and Li shuffled awkwardly while she quickly arranged makeshift bunches high on either side of Xinxin’s head. ‘There,’ she said. ‘Just perfect.’ And Xinxin’s little round face beamed with pleasure. And she did look perfect, Li thought, with the red piping on her white blouse matching the red tights she wore beneath her green pinafore, her red satchel slung over her shoulder, tiny feet secured in open white sandals.

‘Tell Mei Yuan,’ Li said, ‘that I need her advice. I will come back later.’ He lifted Xinxin on to the bike behind him.

‘Do you not want a jian bing ?’

‘I have no time today.’ And he pushed off across the road, weaving through the stream of traffic, whose horns blared angrily. He cycled up the slope, past fruit and vegetable stalls on his left, a barber’s shop open for business already, the smell of wet cut hair and scented oil drifting out of the open door. He parked under the trees next to the front entrance of Section One and took Xinxin by the hand, leading her with great apprehension to the side door, and up three flights to the top floor. The pair drew curious glances from secretarial staff and detectives. Apart from nodded acknowledgements, no one made any comment. Li hesitated briefly outside the door to the detectives’ room, then summoned all his courage and walked in, little Xinxin trotting wide-eyed at his side, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Zhao was just putting down the telephone. He turned and caught sight of Li. ‘Boss, I’ve got a car waiting downstairs to take us to the Middle School …’ His voice trailed off as he saw Xinxin. Other heads turned. The hubbub of voices died down.

Wu pushed his sunglasses back on his head. ‘Um … is there something you haven’t been telling us, boss?’

Li decided to brazen it out. ‘Guys, this is my niece, Xinxin. Her mom’s not very well right now, so I told Xinxin that you would keep her amused this morning while I conduct those interviews.’

There was a moment’s stunned silence before Qian, whose own little girl was nearly ten, took the initiative. ‘Hello, Xinxin,’ he said, rounding the desk. ‘Those are beautiful bunches you’ve got. Did your Uncle Yan do them for you?’

Xinxin tutted and raised her eyes to the ceiling as if he was mad. ‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘Uncle Yan’s useless.’ Which elicited much laughter from around the room. She went on, warming to her reception, ‘It was a lady in the street that did it.’

‘Yeah,’ Wu said, ‘we all think Uncle Yan’s pretty useless, too, don’t we, guys?’ There was a general chorus of consent as Li drew Wu a look.

Qian lifted her up to sit on the edge of the desk and looked in her satchel. ‘What have you got here?’ And he pulled out the books that Mei Yuan had left two nights previously, and a jigsaw puzzle in a cardboard box.

‘It’s dead easy,’ Xinxin said. ‘Do you want me to show you how to do it?’

‘Sure,’ Qian said. The other detectives started gathering around, indulging the age-old adoration that the Chinese have for their children. ‘Has Uncle Yan tried it yet?’

Xinxin laughed so infectiously it got all the detectives laughing with her. ‘ Silly! ’ she said. ‘How could someone who doesn’t know how to do bunches do a jigsaw?’ More laughter at Li’s expense.

‘Li!’ The voice was sharp and imperative, and brought the room to silence. Li turned to see Section Chief Chen Anming standing in the doorway. Chen flicked his head towards Li’s office. ‘A word.’ And he went through. Li pulled a face at the other detectives and then followed Chen through.

Chen turned. ‘Shut the door,’ he said. ‘What the hell’s going on, Li?’

Li shrugged. ‘I’ve got a problem, Chief.’ And he explained how his sister had abandoned Xinxin, literally on his doorstep. It would take a week or more, he explained, to write to her father so that he could come and get her. Meantime he didn’t know what else to do.

‘Well, you can’t turn the detectives’ office into a crèche,’ Chen said. ‘In the name of the sky, Li, we’ve got a serial killer on the loose!’

Li was at a loss. ‘I know,’ he said lamely.

Chen glared at him for a moment, then shook his head, giving way at least a little to the sympathy he felt for Li’s predicament. ‘Where does her father live?’

‘Near Zigong, in Sichuan Province.’

‘I’ll call the police chief there and have him get in touch with your brother-in-law. He could be on a train to Beijing by tonight.’

Li nodded, abashed. ‘Thanks, Chief.’

There was a burst of laughter from the office outside, and Li grinned, embarrassed. ‘She seems to be a big hit with the guys.’ He paused. ‘You’ve got a couple of kids, haven’t you, Chief?’

Chen grunted. ‘A long time since they were that age. My daughter’s in publishing, and my son teaches quantum physics.’

The door to Li’s office swung open and Xinxin strutted in holding out one of Mei Yuan’s books. ‘Will you read this to me, Uncle Yan?’

Li glanced beyond her to the expectant faces of the detectives outside and knew that she’d been put up to it. ‘I can’t, honey,’ he said. ‘I have to go and interview some men. I’m late already.’

Xinxin turned to Chen. ‘Will you read it to me, Uncle Anming?’

Chen flushed, and narrowed his eyes at the detectives in the next room, realising that he, too, had been set up. He flicked a look at Li who was somehow managing to keep his face straight. ‘I’m very busy, little one,’ he said.

Xinxin frowned. ‘What’s that yellow mark on your head?’ she asked, gazing up at him, and the sound of stifled laughter drifted through from the next office.

Chen flushed. ‘That’s from smoking too much,’ he said.

‘Oh.’ Xinxin’s face fell and she said, very seriously, ‘Smoking’s ve-ery bad for you.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Chen said.

Xinxin giggled. ‘Good. So now you stop smoking and read to me, OK?’

She took his hand, quite unselfconsciously, and he blushed to the roots of his hair.

Li said quickly, ‘Now you take good care of Uncle Anming while I’m away, Xinxin.’ He glanced quickly at Chen, hardly daring to meet his eye. ‘Sorry, Chief. Got to dash. Late already.’ And he turned and hurried out, before Chen had time to object. Li collected Zhao as he went, grabbing him by the arm and whisking him through the door.

The two of them stifled their laughter all the way down the corridor, before it finally burst forth in the stairwell and resounded around the building.

‘Oh, shit, Zhao,’ Li said, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes. ‘I’m going to be in big trouble when we get back.’