Qiu Xiaolong - A Loyal Character Dancer

“Don’t forget your pregnant wife in China.”

“Your supervisor must look into it. If Feng’s so well hidden, how did they get to him?”

“That’s what he is investigating.”

“Those secret societies are powerful,” he added, “even in the United States.”

“True,” she agreed. “What about our investigation here?”

“I’m on my way to Party Secretary Li’s office. I’ll call you soon.”

Chief Inspector Chen was not sure what Party Secretary Li’s response would be. But he knew that interviewing potential contacts of Wen’s would be monotonous. The company of an American partner would at least provide an opportunity for him to practice his English.

“How’s everything, Chief Inspector Chen?” Li said, rising from his chair.

“Searching for this woman is like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“You are doing your best.” Li poured a cup of jasmine tea for him. “How is Inspector Rohn getting along in Shanghai?”

“Fine. And she’s quite cooperative too.”

“You are the right person to handle her, Chief Inspector Chen. Any leads so far?”

“Detective Yu has found one. Wen got a phone call from Feng on April fifth and went into hiding because of the call.”

“That’s very important. In fact, that’s great. I will pass the information to the leading comrades in Beijing today.” Li did not attempt to conceal the excitement in his voice. “You have done an excellent job.”

“How?” Chen was surprised. “I’ve not done anything yet.”

“It’s the Americans’ carelessness that has caused Wen’s disappearance. They should not have permitted anyone to get close enough to Feng to threaten him. They should not have allowed Feng to make that call,” Li said, rubbing his hands. “The Americans’ responsibility. That’s it.”

“Well, as for responsibility, I’ve not yet discussed it with Inspector Rohn. She said the U. S. Marshals would investigate.”

“Yes, that’s the way to go. The gang must have found out about Feng’s witness status and whereabouts through some leak on the American side.”

“That’s possible,” Chen said. He was thinking of what Yu had told him about the local Fujian cops’ poor work. “But there could also be a leak on our side.”

“Well, any other information from Inspector Rohn?”

“The Americans want to have the trial as scheduled. They are anxious about our progress.”

“Any other news from Fujian?”

“No. Detective Yu has a difficult job there. The Flying Axes seem to be popular, and the local police are no match for them. They have no clue whatsoever. Nor are they eager to crack down on the gangsters. So what can Yu do-except knock on one unfriendly door after another?”

“The popularity of the triad tradition in the area, I understand. You did the right thing to send Detective Yu there.”

“Now for my work here, I’m going to interview some of Wen’s possible contacts. Inspector Rohn wants to join me,” Chen said. “What do you think, Party Secretary Li?”

“I don’t think that is part of her mission here.”

“She said she got permission from her headquarters.”

“Wen is a Chinese citizen,” Li said deliberately. “It is up to the Chinese police to look for her. I don’t see any necessity for an American officer to join our effort.”

“I can tell her that, but the Americans may suspect that we are simply trying to cover up. It would add to the tension if we keep her out of our investigation.”

“The Americans always look at others askance, as if they were the world’s only police.”

“That’s true, but if she has nothing to occupy her here, Inspector Rohn will insist on going to Fujian.”

“Urn, you have a point. Can’t you let Qian conduct the interviews while you keep her entertained with tourist activities?”

“She will insist on joining Qian then.” He then added, “And Qian does not speak English.”

“Well, I don’t think it can do much harm for her to interview some ordinary Shanghainese with you. I don’t have to repeat: the safety of Inspector Rohn has to be our top responsibility.”

“So you think it is okay for her to work with me?”

“You have full authority, Chief Inspector Chen. How many times have I told you that?”

“Thank you, Party Secretary Li.” Chen continued, after a pause, “Now about the other case. The body in Bund Park. I am planning to look into some potential triad connections here. They may also know something about whether Wen is in Shanghai.”

“No, I don’t think so. If you start asking questions, the Flying Axes will soon hear of it. Your efforts will only stir up a sleeping snake.”

“We need to do something about the Bund Park murder case, too, Party Secretary Li.”

“No hurry. Detective Yu will be back in a couple of days. It can be a job for him. At this moment, with Inspector Rohn staying here, you mustn’t do anything foolish to bring a hornet’s nest down about your ears.”

Li’s response did not really surprise him. The Party Secretary had never been enthusiastic about his investigating the Bund Park case, and Li always had his reasons, political reasons, for doing or not doing something. His reaction to Feng’s phone call was also understandable. To Li, it seemed to be much more important to place responsibility on the Americans than to find the missing woman. The Party Secretary was a politician, not a policeman.

After he finished his talk with Li, Chen hurried out of the bureau to a meeting with Old Hunter, Yu’s father.

Earlier in the morning, the old man had phoned him, suggesting they have tea together. Not in the Mid-Lake Teahouse in the City God Temple Market where they had met on several occasions, but in another one called Moon Breeze, closer to the area where the old man performed his daily activities as an honorary advisor for the Traffic Control Office, wearing a red armband. The retired cop received little in pay, but he got a great kick out of the official-sounding title, imagining himself a staunch pillar of justice whenever he stopped a bike illegally carrying a baby on the back rack or a private taxi displaying an outdated license plate.

The Moon Breeze was a new teahouse. There seemed to be a revival of interest in tea among the Shanghainese. He saw a number of young people drinking with gestures made fashionable by the new movies, before he caught sight of Old Hunter slouching in a corner. Instead of southern bamboo music in the background, a waltz could be heard. Incongruously, strains of “The Blue Danube” rippled through the teahouse. Clearly this was a place for young customers who, though not yet adapted to Starbuck’s coffee, needed some space in which to sit and talk. At a neighboring table, there was a mah-jongg battle going on in full swing, with the players as well as onlookers chattering and cursing.

“I have never been here before. It’s so different from the Mid-Lake,” Old Hunter said rather sadly.

A young waitress came over, light-footed, in a scarlet cheongsam with high slits revealing her ivory thighs, bowing in Japanese fashion. “Do you need a private room, sir?”

Chen nodded. That was one of the advantages of visiting modern teahouses, in spite of the mixture of services.

“It’s the bureau’s expense,” he said as they entered the room. It would be out of the question for the retired cop to pay for the room out of his meager pension. Being a chief inspector with a special budget had its advantages.

Most of the furniture in the private room was in classical style, but there were soft, comfortable cushions placed on the mahogany armchairs, and a dark purple leather sofa matching the color scheme of the room.