“I’m trying to help, Shanshan,” he repeated. “Please tell me what you know about Jiang.”
She sat unresponsive, statuelike. The hills behind them were spread out like a traditional landscape scroll.
“Only by clearing Jiang,” he went on in earnest, “can I hope to help you and get you out of trouble.”
“I don’t know how you can help,” she said softly, but she started to tell him what she knew.
“Jiang had started as an entrepreneur in Wuxi in the late eighties. Having made a small fortune for himself in the early waves of China’s economic reform, he began to take note of the deteriorating environment in the area. A native of Wuxi, he had grown up by the lake, so he took it as his responsibility to draw attention to the issue. Initially, his efforts were not without support, and he had limited success. The media mentioned him as a fighter for the environment, and he even appeared on provincial TV and radio programs. With his firsthand knowledge about the problems with local industry, and by talking and writing about them, he was able to get several local factories to mend their ways-at least to some extent.
“Jiang then began taking the issue more seriously. He sold his business and devoted himself full time to environmental protection. He managed to make a modest living from the fees for talks and articles, but his efforts started to upset an increasing number of Big Bucks, especially those he mentioned unfavorably. So they launched a fierce counterattack, claiming that he was seeking publicity at the expense of law-abiding companies, and that his writings were amateur and half-baked, not based at all on scientific research.
“Then they took it even further by appealing to city authorities. After all, the success of Wuxi was dependent on its booming industry, and the city couldn’t afford for it to be discredited. The officials didn’t hesitate to put pressure on him.
“Jiang persisted, however, targeting factories that continued to dump pollutants into the lake. After doing extensive research, he sent detailed reports to many newspapers and magazines. To his dismay, though, his submissions were invariably returned. He was told that they had received specific instructions from above banning his work and that those companies were untouchable because they produced the majority of the local industrial revenue. Still, he kept on sending letters and reports to government authorities-higher and higher authorities-a persistence which eventually got him labeled a ‘political troublemaker.’
“According to his research, most of the companies in Wuxi were problematic. They were far from meeting the environmental standards, and the situation was aggravated by the acquiescence of the government.
“He started to reach out to foreign media, contacting Western correspondents, who sometimes paid him for his work and published it abroad. Ironically, it then found its way back into China, even into some ‘inside journals’ compiled for high-ranking leaders in Beijing. This made the local officials consider him even more troublesome, and he was consequently blacklisted. But those factories went on operating as before, at the expense of environment.
“So he modified his tactics. He started doing specific field studies, collecting pictures and data, undeniable evidence, before confronting the companies in question and demanding that they mend their ways. If they then didn’t do anything about it, he would post vivid pictures and concrete information on the Web. Those Web posts became quite influential, even more than his earlier articles in the newspapers and magazines, drawing thousands and thousands of responses. As the information spread to an ever-increasing number of people, it became a serious headache to the authorities.
“Then, out of the blue, the accusation came up that Jiang was making a mountain of money by blackmailing those companies. A local business tycoon even went so far as to produce a letter from Jiang which said: ‘If you don’t respond, you’ll have to pay for it.’ There was no question that it was a warning, but it was too vague for it to be read as blackmail.
“So for the last two years, he has been in trouble,” she concluded, “and there has been one attempt after another to bring him down. But I don’t think he would blackmail someone for his own benefit.”
Chen listened on attentively, without interrupting or commenting. Her narrative about Jiang had gone on fairly long. The afternoon light that silhouetted her against the quaint pavilion was gradually fading. In the distance, a light haze began softening the hills.
“But as you said, he had sold his business and had to make a living,” Chen said. “Nowadays, he doesn’t make any money from his speeches or articles.”
“I guess he made enough before he became an activist.”
“What kind of a man do you think he is?”
“He’s no murderer, I’ll say that.” Then, as if in afterthought, she said, “Of course, he has his flaws. For instance, he’s too fond of the limelight. And he’s self-important too. When a company offered to pay him a consulting fee, he never said no. He might have planned to use the money for his environmental work, but it wasn’t a good idea.”
“How did his activities affect you?”
“I got to know him about a year ago. Because of our common interests, we would meet up and talk from time to time. On one occasion, I talked to him about the problem at my company, citing a bunch of research data which he later put into a special report.”
“Do you know if he approached Liu with it?”
“He did. Liu was furious with me over my ‘betrayal,’ though there was nothing secret or confidential about the data. Anyone could accumulate the same information through their own research. But I, too, was upset with Jiang. He should have considered the consequences before confronting Liu with it. Jiang claimed that he never mentioned my name, but that didn’t change the fact that he got the data from me. I was so pissed off, I stopped seeing him.”
He noticed her choice of words-stopped seeing him. They carried a subtle hint as to the nature of their relationship.
“That was several months ago?” Chen asked.
“Yes. What he’s been doing since, I have no idea.”
“About two months ago, in March, I believe, he contacted Liu again. They met at the chemical company office and had a heated argument.”
“What? That’s not possible! Jiang promised me that he would target other companies instead. He said that it wouldn’t be a problem since there are so many of them around.”
“Well, maybe he did it because of the timing. With the coming IPO of the Wuxi Number One Chemical Company, Liu would have been more likely to compromise at that critical juncture. At least, that is how Internal Security has it figured.”
“But I still don’t think Jiang would have come to the office.”
“Mi says she heard him arguing with Liu in his office.”
“When was that?”
“At the beginning of March-the day before Women’s Day. She was positive about it.”
Shanshan made no response, instead staring first at him, then seemingly at something beyond him, in the distance. The air on the hill became slightly chilly for the time of year.
There was something suddenly vulnerable about her, he noticed. She sat up against the post, her arms hanging at her sides, hands slightly open, as if in supplication. She hadn’t yet said anything explicit about her relationship with Jiang. Chen decided not to push. What she would tell him, eventually, she would.
The personal factors aside, a clear picture was forming of the economic background behind the case against Jiang. For the local government, environmental protection efforts were made only to the extent that they wouldn’t jeopardize the appearance of “a harmonious society.” The local authorities depended on the ever-increasing production and profits contributed by the factories, which cut costs by dumping industrial waste into the lake. Exposing this to the Western media, as well as on the Web, made Jiang politically intolerable, and Internal Security must have been following him for quite a while. Which would explain how they came to intervene so quickly in the case.