Qiu Xiaolong - Red Mandarin Dress

Since early morning, he had been overwhelmed by a deluge of reports and statements. The telephone kept ringing, somehow like the funeral bell in a half-forgotten movie. After only a few hours’ sleep last night, having skipped breakfast for a teleconference with a Beijing forensic expert, he began sweating in his cotton-padded uniform. Like the other cops in their group, he already felt jaded in the morning, brewing another cup of extra-strong tea-a cup half full of tea leaves.

Liao seemed discouraged, no longer talking about the profile or the garage. Nor about his sex business scenario, which had been vetoed by Li. The sex industry in the city was an open secret, but no one was supposed to talk about it, especially not in connection with a sensational serial murder case.

As for the psychological approach expounded by Chen, Yu didn’t even mention it in the bureau. He didn’t think anyone would take it seriously. Psychological studies would help only after the criminal was caught, but not when he remained unknown and at large. Still, Yu recommended heightening security with the help of the neighborhood committee on Thursday night. For once, Li agreed readily.

Yu was preparing to make a second cup of tea, putting another pinch of oolong tea leaves into the old cup, when the phone rang again.

“May I speak to Detective Yu Guangming?” It was an unfamiliar voice, possibly that of a middle-aged woman.

“This is he. Speaking.”

“My name is Yaqin. I worked with Jasmine. You came to our hotel the other day. I saw you talking to the front desk manager.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Is the reward for information about Jasmine still available?”

“Yes, two thousand Yuan, if it leads to a breakthrough.”

“Jasmine had a boyfriend. She met him several months ago. He stays at our hotel when he comes back from the United States. He’s a regular customer here.”

“That may be something,” Yu said. “Can you give me more details, Yaqin?”

“His name is Weng. He’s not that rich, or he wouldn’t stay at our hotel, but he has bucks, at least enough so that he’s capable of staying here for months at a time. And he has a green card, which is enough for many a Shanghai girl to have hooked up fast and furious. Anyway, they hit it off. People have seen them dining outside, her hand grasped in his.”

“Have you seen them together?”

“No, but I saw her sneaking into his room late one afternoon, about a month ago. It was not during her shift that day.” She added, “He was a realistic choice for the girl. He’s about fifteen years older, but he could have taken her to the United States.”

“Have you noticed anything suspicious about him?”

“Well, nothing that I am sure of. His family is still in Shanghai, but he chooses to stay at a hotel. Why? That’s beyond me. No one knows what kind of work he does, nor where his money comes from. The cost of a hotel for three or four months is a sizable sum.”

“I talked to your manager the other day. He didn’t say anything about Weng or about his relationship with Jasmine.”

“He may not know,” she said. “Besides, the hotel business has been affected by her murder. There may be no interest in drawing more public attention like that.”

“Is Weng at the hotel right now?”

“He came in from the States this morning. He has been shut up in the room ever since.”

“I’ll come over immediately. If he comes out, tell him not to leave the hotel.” Yu said, “Are you sure he was in the United States for the last two weeks?”

“When she died, he wasn’t here, but I’m not sure where he was. And he arrived with all his luggage this morning.”

“Can you check his passport? Particularly the date of his latest entrance.”

“That should be easy. He leaves his passport in a safety box here. I’ll check it out for you.” She added, “But I don’t want to be seen talking to or passing information to a cop.”

“No problem. I understand. I won’t come in uniform.”

Forty-five minutes later, Yu arrived at the hotel lobby dressed in a gray jacket Peiqin had bought him. No one seemed to recognize him. He soon saw Yaqin, a short woman wearing her hair in an old-fashioned knot, though probably only in her mid-forties. She sneaked him a photocopy of the passport. It showed that Weng left via Guangzhou the day Jasmine was murdered and came back only this morning. Weng would have hardly had the time for the first crime. Definitely not for the second.

“Thank you, Yaqin,” he said. “Is Weng still here?”

“Room 307,” Yaqin said in a whisper.

“I’ll call you later,” he said in a low voice. “So we can meet away from the hotel.”

She nodded, picking up a full ashtray from the lobby table like a conscientious hotel employee.

He stepped into an old elevator, which bobbed him up to the third floor. Following the narrow corridor to the end, he knocked on a brown door marked 307.

The door creaked open. The man inside appeared to be in his early forties, his hair uncombed, his eyes red, slightly swollen. Yu recognized him as Weng, though his passport picture looked younger. It was evident that Weng had not changed since his arrival, his clothes rumpled, encompassing his stout body like an overstuffed duffle bag. Yu produced his badge and came straight to the point.

“You must know why I am here. So tell me about your relationship with Jasmine, Mr. Weng.”

“You are moving fast, Comrade Detective Yu. I’ve just come back this morning, and you already have me as a suspect.”

“No, I don’t. As you may not know, there’s been another victim here while you were in the States. You don’t have to worry about being a suspect, but what you tell me will help our work. You want to avenge her death, don’t you?”

“Yes, I’ll tell you what I know,” Weng said, letting Yu into the room. “So where shall I start?”

“Let’s start when you met-but no, let’s go to the very beginning. Tell me first about your trips back to Shanghai,” Yu said, taking out a mini recorder. “It’s just our routine procedure.”

“Well, I left Shanghai to continue my studies in the United States about seven or eight years ago. I got my PhD in anthropology there, but I couldn’t find a job. Finally I started working for an American company as their special buyer in China. With no factory or workshop, the company designs the products in the US, has them manufactured here, and then sells them for a good profit all over the world. Sometimes they simply buy wholesale at the Yiwu Small Product Market and put their own labels on them. They hired me because I speak several Chinese dialects and am capable of negotiating and bargaining in the countryside. So I fly back and forth regularly, with Shanghai as my base. After all, it’s my home city, and it’s convenient for me to go anywhere from here-”

“Hold on a minute, Weng. You still have your family here, why don’t you stay at home?”

“My parents had only a room of sixteen square meters, in which my elder brother still lives with his wife and two kids, all huddled up together. I can’t squeeze back into that one single room. My brother might not say anything, but his wife would grumble nonstop. The company pays all the expenses for my business trips. Why should I save money for them?”

“I see,” Yu said. “So you met her during your stay in the hotel.”

“I met her about half a year ago, in an elevator incident. The ancient elevator stopped moving between the fifth and sixth floor. We were trapped inside, just two of us, facing each other and the possibility of its crashing down the next instant. All of a sudden, I felt her so closely. In her hotel shirt, skirt, barefoot in plastic slippers, carrying a pail of soap water. At a flowerlike age, she looked too good to be at such a menial job. Then the light went out too. She grasped my hand in panic. After the longest five minutes in my life, the elevator started moving again. In the light, which came back like soft water, she looked so pure and charming. I asked her to have a cup of tea with me in the canteen-to relieve the shock in an old convention. She declined, saying that it was against the hotel policy. The next morning I happened to see her again in the lobby. She looked worn out, having just finished the night shift. I followed her out and invited her to a restaurant across the street. She agreed. That’s how things began to develop.”