“There are so many people now joining forces, or taking part in one search or another, that it reminds me of an old Chinese saying-the law cannot punish when too many people are involved.” After a pause, Chen went on, “But can you tell me more-any details at all-about how you got the photo you posted online?”
Here it came. Melong wasn’t unprepared.
“I’ve already told the netcops everything. But for you, I’ll go over this one more time. I got an e-mail with that photo attached. The e-mail message was simple. ‘This picture appeared in Liberation, Wenhui, and other official newspapers last Friday. Look at the pack of cigarettes in front of Zhou, the director of the Shanghai Housing Development Committee. What’s the brand? 95 Supreme Majesty. Do you believe an incorruptible Party cadre working wholeheartedly in the interests of the people could afford it?’
“Officials smoking the top, most expensive brands is nothing new. But out of curiosity, I looked at that day’s newspaper, which threw new light on the picture. As a rule, we don’t post anything without knowing the identity of the contributor. This time, however, it was a picture that had already been published in the official media, so we didn’t have to worry about its authenticity. I simply posted the photo online and put the e-mail message underneath it. What happened then, you must already know.”
“The netcops came to you after that, right?”
“It wasn’t just the ordinary netcops. Before they showed up, some people from the city government hurried over, a group headed by somebody named Jiang. Then Internal Security showed up too. At their insistence, I dug out the original e-mail. They looked into it, and according to the IP address, it was sent from an Internet café not too far from here. That’s it.” Melong paused and took a big sip of tea before he continued on. “They want me to help them ferret out the anonymous sender, but what’s the use of dragging me in? They have far more resources at their disposal than I do.”
Melong chose not to go into what netcops might do to him. There was no point. The chief inspector couldn’t side with him.
“Yes, that is really up to them to do. They’re the netcops, after all.”
The sarcasm in Chen’s statement was unmistakable. It was difficult, however, for Melong to play along in the dark. He thought he’d better wait until the cop showed all his cards.
“You think so too?” Melong asked.
“It’s not easy to run a Web forum like yours. You’re doing something meaningful, an alternate way for people to find out what’s happening in our society, our socialist society with Chinese characteristics. On your Web forum, they’re allowed to speak their mind despite the difficult circumstances and stringent regulations.”
“Thank you, Chief Inspector Chen. Things must not be easy for you, either, what with all those complicated responsibilities on your shoulders.”
“You’re right.” Chen lit a cigarette for him, and then one for himself. They spent the next minute wrapped up in the silent, spiraling smoke. “The case I’m working on is another difficult one. For me, the one and only focus is determining the cause of Zhou’s death. But before we could get anywhere near to a conclusion, my colleague Detective Wei died in a suspicious accident. I hold myself more or less responsible for the accident that killed him. He might have discovered a clue while investigating, but I was too busy to discuss the case with him that morning, and I failed to warn him of the risk involved in taking the case in that direction.”
Melong began to see why Chen set up this meeting at the teahouse. The chief inspector was intent on revenge, and in desperation, he was seeking Melong’s help. But if he thought it involved something like hacking into Zhou’s computer, the way the netcops did, then Chen was making the same mistake.
“It’s difficult for me,” Chen continued, “because there are so many different people working on the same case, and some of them were involved before we were brought to it. The shuanggui of Zhou began a week earlier, and they already had his computers and files taken away. All the information made available to me looks like it was secondhand or preselected.”
“According to one of the netcops who spoke to me,” Melong said tentatively, “the hard drive of Zhou’s computer was destroyed before they got to it. But who do you think are the likely suspects?”
“For the moment, I’m working on one possible direction, though it’s only one among many. The picture in the newspaper is too small and the resolution too low for anyone to be able to see the cigarette brand. So whoever sent the picture in must have had access to the original one on Zhou’s computer-one that was high enough resolution that it could be enlarged so that the details would be readable. This occurred to me when I was looking at some other pictures that were sent to me electronically.”
“That makes sense,” Melong said, without adding that it was the same theory that the netcops were working on.
“Now, who could have access to the original photo? The people close to Zhou, who would be able to sneak into his office and check his computer or his camera,” Chen said. “As Detective Wei said to me, one approach would be to focus on who might have benefited from making Zhou’s problems public.”
“That would narrow down the list.”
It was like a tai chi performance. Each of the players made a show of striking out in a direction, without really hitting the opponent. The true intention was to understand each other. Melong got it. While Chen seemed to be moving in the same direction as the netcops, he wasn’t after Melong.
Whether a target or not, Melong didn’t want to have anything to do with the police.
“But it’s just a list. That’s why we have to help each other, Melong. Once the case is solved and everything comes out, I don’t think the netcops or any of the others will waste their time on you.”
The hint was unmistakable. Given Chen’s position and connections, it wasn’t impossible for the chief inspector to help. At least this time. Melong started debating with himself.
A cell phone rang. It was Chen’s. He pulled out a white phone.
Melong moved to step out of the room, but Chen gestured for him to stay.
“Sorry, it’s just from my mother, but I have to take it.”
Chen spoke like a filial son. Melong couldn’t help noticing the change of expression on Chen’s face. It looked like one of immediate relief. The next few fragmented words and sentences that were Chen’s side of the conversation didn’t make much sense. They were, of course, out of context.
“I did… my colleague’s widow… to Mr. Gu about it… Yes, I’ll thank Dr. Hou properly… come around either tomorrow or the day after that… Yes, I will… East China… Take good care. See you.”
Chen put the phone back into his pants pocket and said, “My mother had a minor stroke, and she’s just checked out of East China Hospital. I keep the phone on at all times. She’s old and all alone, so I’m concerned.”
“She doesn’t live with you?”
“No, she insisted on not moving in, saying that she prefers to stay in the old neighborhood. But she won’t stay in the hospital too long, worrying about the cost.”
“Which hospital did you say it was?”
“East China Hospital.”
“No surprise, for a high-ranking cadre like you.”
“No, that wasn’t it. She was admitted because of a doctor I know there. He’s also the head of the hospital. It was due to connections, you might say, but I have to do whatever I can for my mother. Anyway, he’s been taking good care of my mother, whether it has anything to do with my position or not.”
“In today’s society, no one is capable of doing anything without connections, and connections come from one’s position,” Melong said, then added in spite of himself, “Not everybody is as lucky as you are.”
“What do you mean, Melong?”
“My mother has been diagnosed with lung cancer, second stage, but before any hospital in the city will admit her, she has to wait at least two months. She has no chance of getting into a top one such as East China. I feel so helpless,” he said, with a slight sob in his voice. He drained the last of the tea from his cup. “I’m a total unworthy son.”