Qiu Xiaolong - A Case of Two Cities

“I understand all that. I, too, would like to help the government fight corruption. But how can I admit to something I don’t know?”

“I’m not saying that you have to admit something you don’t know. But try to help us by making an effort-check your computer and talk to your employees. If, hypothetically, you succeed in finding out something about Ming, you would be making a great contribution to our work. In our report to Comrade Zhao, I’ll make sure to mention your great help.” Old Hunter added after a pause, “And we may not have to touch on the phone call part. Am I right, Officer Yu?”

“I don’t think Comrade Zhao has the time to read the transcript line by line,” Yu said, “especially without my highlighting those lines.”

“Since you have both said so,” Weici said slowly, “let me double-check for you.”

Weici turned on the computer. With the two cops standing behind him, he keyed in Ming’s name and did a name search. Nothing matched there.

“You see, nothing has been found,” Weici said.

“He may not have used his real name,” Yu said.

“Yes, that’s possible. Let me talk to my assistants then.” Weici picked up the phone and tried several numbers, asking about the possibility of Ming having come to the club. He seemed to get the same answer. On the fifth or sixth call, however, he appeared to have a different response. Weici rose and said to the two policemen, “Wait here for me.”

In about five minutes, Weici came back into the office with an ashen look on his face.

“Officer Yu. I have to apologize. Ming contacted Zhang Boxiong, one of my assistant managers, and has been staying in an unoccupied villa here. He must have bribed Zhang with a large sum. I didn’t know anything about it. I have fired Zhang, though I don’t think he knew anything about Ming’s relationship to Xing, either.”

“Of course you didn’t know anything about it,” Old Hunter echoed. “We appreciate your help.”

“Take us to the villa,” Yu said.

They were escorted to a free-standing white villa beyond the golf course. A waitress ran up to Weici and whispered something in his ear. He turned to Yu and Old Hunter. “Ming’s on the second floor. Here is the key. I’ll stay out here. I don’t want to see that bastard.”

They moved upstairs in silence. Whipping out his gun with one hand, inserting the key with the other, Yu opened the door. In the room, they saw a man in a scarlet silk robe holding a naked girl on a rumpled bed, watching an American sex video, and imitating it. They hadn’t heard anything because of the loud moaning and groaning from the TV.

“Who are you?” the man said, his hand still on the thigh of the girl trembling beside him.

“You are Xing Ming, aren’t you? We are from the Shanghai Police Bureau. You are under arrest for sleeping with this prostitute.”

“No, she’s my girlfriend.”

“Show me your ID,” Old Hunter said to the girl.

The girl, wrapped in a blanket, took it out of a purse on the sofa and said sobbing, “I am a student, but both my parents are laid off. I have to support the family.”

Old Hunter glanced at the ID and turned to Ming. “You’re having sex with an underage girl. She’s only fifteen.”

“I didn’t know that, officers,” Ming stuttered, a broken man. “I don’t even know her name.”

That should be more than enough. The cops thought it unnecessary to even mention Xing there.

As they marched Ming out, Yu saw Weici waving at them from a distance. He understood. In the car, Little Zhou nodded without asking any questions. He waited for Yu’s instruction.

“Where are you going to put him?” Old Hunter asked.

“Where do you suggest?” Yu asked.

“Anywhere but the bureau.”

“The Western Suburb Hotel then-under the custody of Comrade Zhao.”

“Good idea,” Old Hunter agreed. “You know where it is, Little Zhou?”

“I know, though I have never been there.”

On the way to the hotel, Yu said to the old man sitting beside him, “I never expected a white face performance like that, Father.”

“You know my other nickname, right?” Old Hunter went on, not waiting for an answer: “Suzhou Opera Singer. But you may not know that, for the last five months, I have been enjoying Suzhou opera three or four times a week. What an unbelievable luxury! Guess how? Nowadays, the traditional opera is going totally to rack and ruin. People watch TV and movies and DVDs. In the increasingly fast tempo of this new age, few have the time to enjoy the slow narrative of the traditional Suzhou opera. Most of the Suzhou opera theaters have been turned into nightclubs and actors can perform only in teahouses, like the old days. They make little money, sometimes no more than their bus fare and a bowl of noodles. I’m a regular teahouse visitor, so I am a regular audience member too. It’s free.”

“I see.” Yu knew the old man’s alternative nickname hadn’t come from his enjoyment of the opera, but from his way of talking as if a character in an opera.

He started up again, more eloquently than usual. “Now for the last few months, it’s the Romance of Three Kingdoms being performed at the shabby teahouse. I have learned quite a lot from this ancient book of wisdom. As you may not know, those CEOs of large cooperation today all read the Romance of Three Kingdoms for inspiration in their business operations. For instance, when we talked at the teahouse, I too thought of something from the Suzhou opera. Cao Cao suspected Liu Bei was an ambitious rival and kept him under close surveillance. So what could Liu do? He pretended to be a greedy man, asking materialistic favors of Cao. How could such a greedy man have genuine political ambition? As a result, Cao was less on his guard, and Liu was able to get away.”

“Now I am beginning to see, Father.”

“People have to believe you are vulnerable, and then they themselves will be vulnerable. Weici is a man too familiar with those insatiable red rats in the materialistic world. A lot of them must have asked him for favors just like that. So he took me for granted, believing that he could exchange favor with us and he would get off scot-free. If he believed his cooperation made no difference, why should he give up Ming?” Old Hunter paused, taking out a pack of cigarettes-Flying Horse. “You do not really have the imperial sword, do you? No one knows a son better than his father.”

Old Hunter didn’t seem ready to stop talking about the Romance of Three Kingdoms any time soon. Yu thought the old man was entitled to his moment of triumph.

THE ALARM CLOCK FRAGMENTED his dream of a black cat jumping around, almost slipping on the tile roofs in the depth of the night, under the stars, long and chill…

Chen got up, made a pot of coffee, and took a quick shower. He had to appear in decent shape, he reflected, smelling the first pleasant aroma. He was going to see her soon, to discuss the delegation’s new activities again. He finished the first cup in a few gulps, trying to shake himself out of the fragmented memories of a long night.

He had worked very late the previous night. Reading through the information she gave him, listening to the tape several times, he knew why she had given it to him. With his background knowledge, she hoped that he might be able to get something out of it. There was something going on, he was sure, but he failed to grasp what. Some of the names in Xing’s phone calls meant nothing to Chen, except that of “Little Tiger” in an alarming context. So he approached the hotel manager for the use of a computer. He forwarded Yu the phone transcript, and placed a weather phone call to him, believing his partner would get it.