Qiu Xiaolong - The Mao Case

“That’s how she survived, I see. Did you approach her after his death?”

“Qian was under surveillance. I knew better than to look for trouble. Besides, I was disappointed with her. So soon after Tan’s death, she found herself another lover – a new body hot in her arms with the old body not yet cold in the grave. And nothing but a lustful stud, almost ten years younger than she. They were caught in the act, with him doing something perverted, so he was jailed as a ‘degenerate hooligan.’ Of course, I still planned to give the package back to her, but then she died too.”

“What happened afterward, Mr. Xie?”

“Well, things started improving, though my wife left me to go to the United States. I must have told her too much about the American dream. Karma.”

“That’s not your fault, but her loss. Please, come back to our topic.”

“In the early eighties, people once again called me Mr. Xie. I no longer had to sulk about like a homeless skunk. My house was described as a symbol of the old Shanghai in the glittering thirties. So I ventured out to look for Jiao. It was a promise I made to Tan’s memory. She lived in the orphanage, where Zhong, Shang’s old maid, occasionally visited her. I gave some money to Zhong for Jiao’s sake – not much, but things were so hard for Jiao.”

“Did you meet Jiao there?”

“I tried not to, but one afternoon, she happened to see me in the company of Zhong, who introduced me as her father’s friend. Not long afterward, she left the orphanage and started working odd jobs.”

“Did you still keep that package with you?”

“Yes, I did. She shared a small room with three or four provincial girls, no privacy at all. I didn’t want to give it to her under the circumstances, whatever it could be.”

“You did the right thing, Mr. Xie, but a lot of things changed for her, yes?”

“Yes, and suddenly too. She quit her job and moved into a high-end apartment -”

“Hold on. You had nothing to do with the change?”

“No, not at all. I actually learned about it from Zhong, who thought I had helped. But how could I? Look at this garden. I can’t even afford a gardener.”

“You should have one,” Chen said nodding, looking at the wasted garden.

“After a few months, Jiao came to me, first as a visitor, and then as a student.”

“Did she inherit a large sum of money?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“But she came to you after the publication of the book Cloud and Rain in Shanghai, I assume.”

“I think so. As a student in my class, she’s well-qualified, but why she came to the class, I don’t know. Possibly it is her way of paying me back – her tuition is, I mean.” Xie said with his brows knit tight, “She’s helpful. It’s really beyond me why she provided an alibi for me the other day. Repaying me with more than money? I have done so little for her.”

“Perhaps it was little from your point of view, but a lot from her point of view. Anyway, have you heard any speculation about the changes in her life?”

“Most people believe that there’s someone behind her. An upstart who provides everything for her. But in matters like that, you can’t ask a young girl for an explanation if she chooses not to tell you.”

“That’s true.” Chen said, “But back to the package. Did you give it to her after she became a regular visitor here?”

“Not at first. I wasn’t sure, what with the unexplained change in her life, and with the possibility that there was someone else behind her. But I eventually did, several months ago. It’s hers, isn’t it? I had no reason not to give it to her.”

“Did you find out what was inside?”

“No. whatever secret it contained, it wasn’t mine. Some day I may have to swear,” Xie said, his eyes slightly squinting in the light, “that I have never seen anything.”

The afternoon sunlight, sifted through the foliage, illuminated the shrewd lines on his face. A survivor of these tumultuous years, Xie had to be cautious.

“Did she tell you anything about what was inside the package?”

“No, she didn’t.” Xie changed the subject abruptly, “By the way, have you heard about the burglary at her place about a month ago?”

“No, I haven’t,” Chen said. But it wasn’t difficult for him to understand why Internal Security hadn’t said anything about it, and why Liu believed that what they wanted to find was in Xie’s place.

“Hers is in a well-guarded complex. Yet a thief managed to sneak in, though he left without taking anything valuable.”

“Has she told anyone about the package?”

“I don’t know. She should know better, I think.”

“She has since been a regular visitor to your place and the two of you have a lot of contact. Apart from the package, have you noticed anything unusual about her?”

“Well, for a young girl living in affluence, she’s not really happy, but that may just be my impression. If anything is a little unusual, I think it’s her frequent visits. It’s understandable for the Old Dicks to come over and over again; they have nothing else to do and nowhere else to go. But for someone like Jiao, it beats me.”

“That’s a puzzle,” Chen said. “Also, a Big Buck would show off his ‘little concubine’ like he would a Mercedes, but no one seems to have seen Jiao appear in that kind of situation for anybody. Do you know anything about it?”

“No, I have never seen or heard of such a Big Buck in her company.”

“Do you think she lives by herself all the time?”

“Yes, I think so. Now that you’ve raised the question, though, I think there may be something. One afternoon, two or three months ago, she got a phone call in the middle of her painting lesson here and left in a great hurry, saying, ‘Somebody’s waiting for me at home.’ She lives there by herself, doesn’t she? How could someone be calling her from there? Also, it was on a red cell phone she has never used before or since.”

“You’re observant. No wonder you’re a painter. But it might have been simply an unexpected visitor at her home,” Chen said reflectively. But Xie was observant, perhaps not simply in his capacity as a painter and teacher. “Well, as her tutor, is there anything unusual about her painting?”

“I may not be a good judge. According to some critics, I’m no more than an arm chair impressionist – with nothing to share but impressions of those decadent years.”

“We don’t live in the opinions of critics, Mr. Xie. Anything you have noticed of late, not necessarily as a judge?”

“Well, not anything remarkable, I would say. Recently, she did a painting of a witch riding a broom, flying over the Forbidden City. Surprisingly surrealistic in terms of the subject matter.”

“A witch riding a broom?” Chen said. “Like in an American cartoon?”

“Yes. I don’t think she has tried her hand at a cartoon before. Nor have I noticed such a surrealistic streak in her work.”

“That may be something, but I’m no art critic. Anything else, Mr. Xie? Anything you can think of that may help me – and help you too?”

“That’s really about all I can think of.” Xie added in earnest, “Don’t worry about an old, useless man like me, Mr. Chen. But Jiao is a good girl. So young, and beautiful. She thinks highly of you. You’ll do whatever possible to help, won’t you?”

Xie might have taken Chen’s offer to help as coming out of a romantic motive. Chen, too, thought well of Jiao, but that was irrelevant.

His cell phone rang before he managed to say anything in response. He pressed the button. It was Gu.

“Thank god. You have finally come back, Chief,” Gu said. “I’ve called you so many times.”