“Sima probably did it that way for the sake of convenience.”
“I don’t know why he did it that way, but I know it makes for hard evidence of a relationship between the two. Also, the errand boy managed to get a snapshot of Sima and Jin standing by the window, his hand on her shoulder. It’s from a fair distance so it’s not very clear, but it’s still useable. Our errand boy has promised that he will station himself there every evening, and the whole weekend too, until he gets some higher-quality pictures.”
“That is fantastic. I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough.”
“No need to thank me. You can call me whenever you need me,” Old Hunter said. “For a man of my age, I really don’t have anything to worry about. And I’m old enough to give you a piece of my mind, Chief Inspector. You believe that you can make a difference, but you should think about qingguan-those honest, incorruptible officials in Suzhou opera, like Judge Bao or Judge Dee. They were popular in the ancient dynasties, and they’re still popular today. Why? Because, like you, they’re rare, in a society without justice or law. Just last night, I watched a TV show about Judge Bao. Guess how Judge Bao solves a crucial case? The solution emerged when a fitful wind blew someone’s hat away. It was just one small thing leading to another, leading eventually to the emperor’s real mother, who was hiding in a hut. Ultimately, however, the resolution all depended upon the intervention of a still-conscientious, filial emperor. As for Judge Bao, even with incredible luck on his side, he got into much trouble. At one point, he was marched out to the execution grounds, only to be spared at the last minute because of the emperor’s mother.”
“Yes, I’ve thought about the issue of qingguan. It’s sort of an archetype in our collective consciousness. The continued popularity of the archetype speaks to the problems of the system. But I’ve never heard of the Judge Bao story you just described.”
“It’s not a commonly told one. In fact, only in Suzhou opera is there such a detailed version of that story,” Old Hunter said, standing up abruptly, “But I’ve got to get to work. I think I’ll leave the cage at the market for the day, even though Zhang Zhang wouldn’t say anything if I brought it to the office.”
Chen rose, watching Old Hunter walk to the gate at Huangpi Road. Chen then turned and headed back to the gate at the People’s Square, where he could get to the subway and from there to the railway station.
SIXTEEN
THE NEXT MORNING, CHEN woke up in his hotel room in Suzhou with a dull headache, his neck stiff, and his back sore. He hardly had the strength to get out of bed. For several minutes, he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his mind blank, before he noticed that the laptop was still on with the Suzhou opera CD inside. He must have fallen asleep while listening to it.
The day before had been an exhausting one-after meeting with Old Hunter at the People’s Park early in the morning, there was the hustle and bustle at the subway station, the long line waiting for a ticket at the railway station, then standing for the entire trip in the slow, inexpensive, and overpacked train back to Suzhou. He was pretty much worn out when he got back to the hotel. When he got there, he shut himself up in his room for hours, going over all the information he had. In spite of all his efforts, the multifarious pieces of information remained unconnected. It was exhausting, and, drained, he must have fallen asleep, having just put in the CD.
It was still quite early in the morning. So, ignoring his headache and pains, he decided to pick up where he’d left off last night. He decided to treat the nightclub raid as the central piece of the puzzle and try to fit the other pieces around it.
The Heavenly World was represented by the law firm founded by Kai, the wife of the First Party Secretary of Shanghai, which accounted for its being untouchable. So a raid against the club, even a secret one made against the ex-chief inspector, couldn’t happen without Kai being notified.
Was Kai the one working against Chen behind the scenes?
But despite the failure of the raid, it didn’t make sense for her to continue putting pressure on Shen. After all, Chen would never step back into that nightclub.
By why did Shen call Kai a bitch when he was talking to White Cloud?
And what about the sudden shift of topic-when Shen went from talking about Kai to bringing up the dead American? Was there some unseen connection? It wasn’t simply that the American died in the nightclub or not. Kai didn’t have any reason to be concerned about that.
The death of the American was also mentioned at the ernai café. Chen recalled hearing a fragmented sentence on the tape about “the death of a laowai”-a “foreigner.” Some of the ernai’s men were high-ranking officials, and the ernai might have heard something from them.
He got up, made himself a cup of coffee, and started surfing the Internet again, this time focusing on Kai. But, after a half hour of searching, all he could find was a short bio of her.
Kai was born into the family of red generals. After graduating from Beijing University, she started her own law firm. Her marriage to Lai was believed to be a “red alliance.” As a capable attorney, she won a number of major cases, including high-profile international ones. Her practice expanded rapidly, establishing branch offices in several large cities. When Lai was appointed Shanghai Party Secretary, Kai was then referred to as the “First Attorney,” her firm ranking as the top in the city, and also as the “First Lady,” because of her marriage to Lai. But shortly after he became First Party Secretary, Lai made a surprising announcement: Kai had resigned from her firm to avoid any appearance of conflict of interest due to his official position. After that, she seemed to have faded from public view.
To the best of his knowledge, Chen hadn’t been involved in any investigations related to her law firm.
Perhaps all of this was just a red herring. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time looking in a direction that might have nothing to do with his crisis.
He broke out into a cold sweat, soaking his shirt. He felt weak. Staring at the cup of coffee he’d made, he decided against drinking it.
Perhaps a good Chinese breakfast could help. He had eaten so little the previous day.
Ten minutes later, he was walking up the stairs to the second floor of Cai’s Noodles.
The waitress recognized him, meeting him at the landing of the staircase. “Morning, sir. Are you alone today?”
“Yes, it’s just me this morning.”
He’d eaten here with Qian just the other day. He didn’t see her case as particularly urgent or relevant to his own troubles, though Old Hunter had already started working on it. She had, however, alerted him to the connections between the nightclub and Kai.
“You know how to appreciate noodles,” the waitress said. “Is there any particular table you’d like?”
“Could I have the same table by the window?”
Sitting by the window, he checked his cell phone and found that he’d missed a call from Old Hunter last night. Perhaps it was about some new pictures taken by the errand boy, which would be something he could show Qian. He wondered whether she’d been able to ferret out more about the nightclub or had learned anything else that she could share.
“Good choice. The section is quiet this morning.” The waitress came back with a menu. “Today’s special is organic rice paddy eels. Mr. Cai has several acres of rice paddies where the eels are raised. We guarantee that the rice paddies are pesticide free, and the eels are raised without hormones or antibiotics.”