Chan Bing’s English was hesitant, but he could make himself understood.
‘But I didn’t see anything.’
‘Always you see more than you think.’
‘They were behind me the entire time. I don’t have eyes in the back of my head.’
Chan’s face was expressionless.
‘You in fact do. In tense, dangerous situations you see through the back of your head.’
‘That might be true in China, but not in Sweden. I have never heard of an accused being found guilty because somebody saw him through eyes in the back of their head.’
‘There are other witnesses. It is not only you who will point out your attacker. Other witnesses will identify him also.’
Birgitta looked appealingly at Hong Qiu, who was staring at a spot way above her head.
‘I have to fly home,’ said Birgitta. ‘My friend and I must leave this hotel two hours from now and go to the airport. I have my bag back. The help I’ve received from the police in this country has been excellent. I might well write an article for a Swedish legal magazine describing my experiences and the gratitude I owe to China. But I will not be able to identify a possible attacker.’
‘Our request for your cooperation is not unreasonable. The laws in this country say you have a duty to be at the police’s disposal when they are solving a serious crime.’
‘But I’m about to go home. How long will it take?’
‘Unlikely more than a day.’
‘That’s not possible.’
Hong Qiu had approached without Birgitta noticing. ‘We will naturally help you to rebook your tickets,’ she said.
Birgitta Roslin slammed her hand down on the table. ‘I am going home today. I refuse to extend my stay by another day.’
‘Chan Bing is a very high-ranking police officer. What he says goes. He can force you to stay in China.’
‘Then I demand to speak to my embassy.’
‘Of course.’
Hong Qiu placed a mobile phone on the table in front of Birgitta and a piece of paper with a telephone number. ‘The embassy will open one hour from now.’
‘Why should I be forced to go along with this?’
‘We don’t want to punish an innocent man, but nor do we want a guilty man to go free.’
Birgitta Roslin stared at her and realised that she would be forced to stay in Beijing for at least one more day. They had made up their minds to keep her here. The best I can do is to accept the situation, she thought. But nobody is going to force me to identify an attacker I have never seen before.
‘I must speak to my friend,’ she said. ‘What will happen to my baggage?’
‘The room will still be reserved in your name,’ said Hong Qiu.
‘I take it you’ve already arranged that. When was it decided that I should be forced to stay? Yesterday? The day before? Last night?’
She received no reply. Chan Bing lit another cigarette and said something to Hong Qiu.
‘What did he say?’ asked Birgitta.
‘That we must hurry up. Chan Bing is a busy man.’
‘Who is he?’
Hong Qiu explained while they were walking along the corridor. ‘Chan Bing is a very experienced detective. He is responsible for incidents that affect people like you, guests in our country.’
‘I didn’t like him.’
‘Why not?’
Birgitta Roslin stopped. ‘If I’m going to stay on for another day, I want you to be with me. Otherwise I’m not going to leave this hotel until the embassy is open and I’ve spoken to them.’
‘I’ll be there.’
They continued to the dining room. Karin Wiman was just about to leave her table when they arrived. Birgitta explained what had happened. Karin eyed her even more curiously.
‘Why didn’t you say anything about this before? Then we’d have been prepared for something like this, that you might have to stay on.’
‘Like I said, I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t want to worry myself either. I thought it was all over. I’d got my bag back. But now I’m going to have to stay until tomorrow.’
‘Is it really necessary?’
‘The policeman I just spoke to didn’t seem the type to change his mind.’
‘Do you want me to stay as well?’
‘No, you go. I’ll follow tomorrow. I’ll call home and explain what’s happened.’
Karin was still hesitant. Birgitta steered her towards the exit.
‘Go. I’ll stay and sort this business out. Apparently the laws in this country say that I’m not allowed to leave until I’ve helped them.’
‘But you said you didn’t see whoever it was who attacked you.’
‘And that’s what I’m going to tell them, and stick to it. Go now! When I get home we’ll have to get together and look at our pictures of the Wall.’
Birgitta watched Karin walk towards the lifts. As Birgitta had taken her coat down to the dining room, she was ready to leave right away.
She travelled in the same car as Hong Qiu and Chan Bing. Motorcycles with wailing sirens cleared a way through the dense traffic. They passed through Tiananmen Square and continued along one of the wide central streets until they turned off into the entrance of an underground garage guarded by police officers. They took a lift up to the fourteenth floor, then walked along a corridor past uniformed men who eyed her curiously. Now it was Chan Bing walking beside her, not Hong Qiu. She is not the most important person in this building, Birgitta thought. Here it’s Mr Chan who calls the shots.
They came to the anteroom of a large office where police officers jumped to attention. The door closed behind them in what she assumed was Chan’s office. A portrait of the country’s president hung on the wall behind his desk. She saw that Chan had a modern computer and several mobile phones. He pointed to a chair. Birgitta sat down. Hong Qiu had remained in the anteroom.
‘Lao San,’ said Chan Bing. ‘That’s the name of the man you will soon meet and pick out from among nine others.’
‘How many times do I have to repeat that I didn’t see the men who attacked me?’
She suddenly felt afraid. All too late it occurred to her that both Hong Qiu and Chan Bing might know that she was looking for Wang Min Hao. That was why she was here. In some way she had become a danger. The question was: to whom?
They both know, she thought. Hong Qiu is not present because she already knows what Chan Bing is going to talk to me about.
The photograph was still in the inside pocket of her coat. She wondered whether she ought to produce it and explain to Chan Bing why she had gone to the place where she was attacked. But something told her not to. Just now it was Chan Bing playing the cat, and she was the mouse.
Chan shuffled some papers on his desk — not because he was going to read them, she could see that, but to fill in time while he made up his mind what to say.
‘How much money was stolen?’ he asked.
‘Sixty American dollars. And rather less in Chinese money.’
‘Rings? Jewellery? Credit card?’
‘Everything else was returned to me.’
There was a buzz from a telephone on his desk. Chan answered, listened, then hung up.
‘They’re ready,’ he said. ‘Now you see the man who attacked you.’
‘I thought there was more than one?’
‘Only one of the men who attacked you can still be interrogated.’
So the other man is dead, Birgitta thought, and began to feel sick. She wished she wasn’t here in Beijing. She ought to have insisted on going home with Karin Wiman. She had entered some kind of trap.
They went along a corridor, down some steps and through a door. The light was dim. A police officer was standing next to a curtain.