Qiu Xiaolong - A Case of Two Cities

Chen composed a fax requesting Little Huang’s detailed file from the Writers’ Association in Beijing. He also made a long-distance call to Fang Youliang, one of his former schoolmates now teaching at the Beijing Foreign Language University. Some interpreters were enlisted by the Foreign Liaison, Chen knew, as early as their freshman year. Fang promised to provide any information about Little Huang from the college.

Of course, there was one more direction, Chen reflected, but he didn’t want to think too much about it for the moment. It was already nearly six A.M. He reminded himself that there were more phone calls to make-as delegation head.

AT HOME, DETECTIVE YU looked at an ashtray that was already full in the morning and made himself a cup of extra-strong Uloon tea.

He had taken the day off for a number of reasons. Peiqin had been busier than ever, working at a state-run job as well as a private-run job, leaving home before six, so it was up to him to take care of some things at home. He had to pay Qinqin’s English camp fee at the district school office. He had to buy fresh noodles for the evening. Most importantly, he had to check into a room-exchange proposal. Someone had offered to exchange a new two-bedroom apartment with bathroom and kitchen for their one-and-half room unit without bathroom or kitchen. The deal sounded too good to be true. Peiqin attributed it to the possibility of their area being turned into a high-end commercial complex in the near future. Still, a bird in hand is worth two in the woods. She was greatly tempted by the offer. After all, there was no telling what would happen next in China. She wanted Yu to take a close look at the apartment, lest there was something wrong with the feng shui of that new building. In Shanghai, most people were still dependant on government housing like Yu, so a room-exchange decision could be a very important one, in spite of the fast-developing new housing policy.

But for Yu, it would also be a day for him to think about what he could do for Chief Inspector Chen.

He had a hunch that the murder was somehow related to the Xing investigation, though it occurred thousands of miles away. He did not have anything to prove it but, as a cop, he didn’t believe in coincidence. As with An’s death. He couldn’t shake off a feeling that, for some reason, Chen hadn’t told him everything. People like Jiang could have hardly ordered a murder, even in the United States. So someone at a much higher level might be involved. It was a matter of life and death for Chen-to be exact, for both Chen and Yu.

But the only real help Yu had provided-together with Peiqin-was in moving Chen’s mother out of danger temporarily. Still, time was not on their side. Yu might not be able to keep the old woman in hiding for long. Party Secretary Li had already approached him about the whereabouts of the old woman.

“You don’t know where she is?” Li said sarcastically. “It’s like the sun rising in the west.”

In the bureau, Kuang had gone so far as to taunt Yu with Chen’s connection to An in front of other cops.

“Your boss has really enjoyed the peach blossom luck,” Kuang declared in the main office of the bureau. “A tit-tat meeting with that beautiful anchorwoman in a ‘Lovers’ Nest’-a couple days before her death.”

Yu ignored it as a joke, which it wasn’t. Kuang must have heard something, or he wouldn’t have had the guts to speak of Chen like that.

But the only thing Yu had so far was An’s cell phone record, which he had studied for days without discovering anything substantial. It was out of the question for him to approach those officials. He had thought about doing research on them, but he would have to get special access permission for the bureau computers. And that might not be a good idea, as others might trace his work. Everybody knew about his relationship to Chen.

He didn’t have a computer at home. Among his friends, no one had one at home. Not even Chief Inspector Chen.

Spitting out a loose tea leaf, he remembered he had seen a laptop in Chen’s home. Not Chen’s, but one lent to him for a translation project by an upstart named Gu-a computer as well as the college girl, White Cloud, as a “little secretary,” who was “lent” to Chen’s mother this time.

It wasn’t difficult to guess why Gu had befriended Chen. It was an investment for future return. But since the shrewd businessman saw potential in the chief inspector, Gu might help his assistant as well.

Yu took a taxi to the Dynasty Karaoke Club. He still had many things to do afterward, so on the way there, he got the money for Qinqin’s English camp out of the bank.

As soon as Yu sent in his business card, Gu came out and welcomed him into a spacious office. A tall man in a Western-style suit with Chinese-style cloth-heeled shoes and green jade neck decoration, the entrepreneur was gracious to the detective. Yu lost no time explaining the purpose of his visit, though he refrained from mentioning any specific details.

“It’s something important for Chen, Mr. Gu, or I would not have come to you like this.”

“You don’t have to explain,” Gu said, picking up the phone on his desk and giving instructions to his secretary outside the office. “We haven’t met before, but Chen has talked such a lot about you. It’s like I have known you for years too.”

A young waitress in a pink cheongsam came in with a new laptop still in the box, and another, in a green cheongsam, with a platter of fruit enveloped in a mirage of spiraling mist. “Tropical rainforest,” she said. She also had a bottle of foreign wine in an ice bucket and opened the wine with a pop.

“If you are not in a hurry,” Gu said, raising the cup, “I’ll have one of our best K girls for you in a private room. My treat. You have really given me face today.”

“Thank you, but I’m really in a hurry. Next time, Mr. Gu.”

There would be no next time, Yu was sure. He had heard of stories about K girls in private rooms and he had to think of Peiqin. That was the bottom line.

“It’s an honor that you thought of me, Detective Yu. I am a businessman, but a man of yiqi too. I am willing to have my chest pierced with knives for a friend.”

It sounded sort of like triad jargon. Detective Yu was confounded that someone with triad connections would make such a statement to a cop.

“We have already cooperated,” Gu went on warmly. “Between your wife Peiqin and White Cloud. What a masterstroke Peiqin made in the water shop.”

As Yu was about to leave the club with the laptop, Gu said casually, as if in afterthought, “You have a room in the Luwan District, close to the intersection of Huaihai and Madang Road, right?”

“Yes…”

“Don’t exchange it with others. There are huge potentials there. If you really want to move to a larger apartment, let me know. I’ll give you a new three-bedroom apartment in a decent area-plus a hundred thousand yuan in cash.”

“No kidding!”

“Think about it. You don’t have to give me an answer right now. Not a single word about it to anyone else, of course. You are my friend and I’m not an unscrupulous businessman who would rip off a friend like you.”

Probably not, Yu observed. Stepping out of the Dynasty, he thought about calling Peiqin, but he saw no sign of a public phone booth there.

Connections and corruptions, Detective Yu pondered, walking. It could be hard to draw a clear-cut line between the two. In fact, he had got the room through Chen’s help-with the inside information from Chen’s connection. Still, Chen got nothing for himself, and Yu deserved a room-even according to the official housing committee of the bureau. So Yu could say that he had done all that, like Chen, not for himself…