Under normal circumstances, prisoners sentenced to death for murder, rape, robbery or similar crimes were taken directly from court to the place of execution. Until the middle of the 1990s Chinese society had demonstrated its positive support for the death penalty by transporting the condemned prisoners on the back of an open truck. Executions would take place in front of a large crowd that would be given an opportunity to make a last-minute decision on whether a prisoner would in fact be shot, or spared. But the crowds that assembled on such occasions were never in the mood to show mercy. In recent years, such events had been arranged more discreetly. No film-makers or photographers who were not sanctioned by the state were allowed to document the executions. It was only after the sentence had been carried out that the newspapers reported the death. In order to avoid provoking what the political leaders regarded as hypocritical anger abroad, public announcements confirming executions were no longer made. Nobody but the Chinese authorities now knew the exact number carried out. Publicity was only allowed in the case of criminals like Shen Weixian, in order to send warnings to high-ranking officials and businessmen, and at the same time to calm public opinion, which was becoming increasingly critical of a society that made such corruption possible.
News of the confirmation of Shen Weixian’s death sentence spread very rapidly in Beijing political circles. Hong Qiu heard about it only a couple of hours after the judgement was made. She had met Shen Weixian briefly some years previously at a reception in the French embassy and had taken an instant dislike to him, suspecting intuitively that he was greedy and corrupt. However, Shen Weixian was a close friend of her brother, Ya Ru. Obviously Ya Ru would distance himself from Shen and deny that they had been more than casual acquaintances, but Hong Qiu knew the truth was different.
Hong Qiu had seen a lot of people die. She had been present at decapitations, hangings, firing-squad executions. Being executed for cheating the state was the most despicable death she could imagine. Who would want to be chucked onto the scrapheap of history with a shot in the back of the head? She shuddered at the thought. But she did not oppose the death penalty. Hong Qiu regarded it as a necessary weapon for the state to use in its defence, and that serious criminals should be deprived of the right to live in a society they had sought to undermine.
Nevertheless, she decided to visit Shen. She knew the governor, and so thought she stood a chance of seeing the prisoner.
The car pulled up at the prison gate. Before opening the car door, Hong Qiu checked the pavement through the tinted-glass windows. She saw several people she assumed were journalists or photographers. Then she stepped out of the car and hurried over to the door in the wall next to the tall gate. A warden opened it and let her in.
It was almost half an hour later when she was ushered by a warden deeper into the labyrinthine prison to the warden Ha Nin, whose office was on the top floor. She hadn’t seen him for many years and was surprised to see how much he had aged.
‘Ha Nin,’ she said, stretching out both arms. ‘It’s been so many years!’
He took her hands and squeezed them hard.
‘Hong Qiu. I can see one or two grey hairs on your head, just as you can on mine. Do you remember the last time we met?’
‘When Deng gave his speech on the necessity of rationalising our industries.’
‘Time passes quickly.’
‘It passes more quickly the older you are. I think death is approaching at great speed, so quickly that we perhaps won’t be able to realise what is happening.’
‘Like a grenade with the pin pulled? Death will explode in our faces?’
She withdrew her hands. ‘Like the flight of a bullet from the barrel of a rifle. I’ve come to speak to you about Shen Weixian.’
Ha Nin did not seem surprised. They sat down at a battered table. Ha Nin lit a cigarette. Hong Qiu came straight to the point. She wanted to see Shen, say goodbye, find out if there was anything she could do for him.
‘It’s very strange,’ said Ha Nin. ‘Shen knows your brother. He has begged Ya Ru to try and save his life. But Ya Ru refuses to talk to Shen and says that the death sentence is correct. Then you appear, Ya Ru’s sister.’
‘A man who deserves to die doesn’t necessarily deserve to have nobody do him a final favour or listen to his last words.’
‘I have received permission to let you visit him. If he wants you to.’
‘Does he?’
‘I don’t know. At this moment the prison doctor is in his cell, talking to him.’
Hong Qiu nodded, then turned away from Ha Nin as a signal that she didn’t want to discuss the matter further.
It was another half-hour before Ha Nin was called out to his anteroom. When he came back Hong Qiu was informed that Shen was prepared to receive her.
Shen was in the furthest cell, at the very end of the corridor. He normally had thick black hair, but it had been shaved off. He was wearing a blue prison uniform, the trousers too big, the jacket too small. Ha Nin stepped back and instructed one of the guards to unlock the door. When Hong Qiu stepped inside she could feel that the tiny room was steeped in angst and terror. Shen grasped her hand and sank down on his knees.
‘I don’t want to die,’ he whispered.
She helped him to sit down on the bed, where there was a mattress and a blanket. She pulled up a stool and sat down opposite him.
‘You must be strong,’ she said. ‘That’s what people will remember. The fact that you died with dignity. You owe that to your family. But nobody can save you. Neither I nor anybody else.’
Shen stared wide-eyed at her. ‘I only did what everybody else was doing.’
‘Not everybody. But a lot of people. You must accept responsibility for what you did, and not degrade yourself further by lying.’
‘Why am I the one who has to die?’
‘It could have been somebody else. But you were the one. In the end everybody who is incorrigible will come to a similar end.’
Shen looked at his trembling fingers and shook his head.
‘Nobody wants to talk to me. It’s as if I’m not only going to die, but I’m completely alone in the world. Not even my family wants to come here and talk to me. I’m dead already.’
‘Ya Ru hasn’t come either.’
‘I don’t understand what you mean.’
‘It’s really his fault that I’m here.’
‘I have no desire to help him.’
‘You misunderstand me. Ya Ru doesn’t need any help. He’s keeping his head down and denying that he ever had anything to do with you. Part of your fate is that everybody speaks ill of you. Ya Ru is no exception.’
‘Is that really true?’
‘I’m telling you the facts. There is just one thing I can do for you. I can help you to get revenge if you tell me about how you worked together with Ya Ru.’
‘But he’s your brother.’
‘The family bonds were cut through long ago. Ya Ru is dangerous for our country. Chinese society was built on the basis of individual honesty. Socialism cannot work and develop unless citizens are honest and behave decently. The likes of you and Ya Ru corrupt not only themselves, but the whole of society.’
At last Shen understood the point of Hong Qiu’s visit. It seemed to give him renewed strength and for the moment counteracted the fear that had taken possession of him. Hong Qiu knew that at any moment Shen would relapse and become so paralysed by the fear of death that he would no longer be able to answer her questions. And so she harried him, put him under pressure, as if he were once again undergoing a police interrogation.