Margaret said, ‘Especially if they’re going to get caught.’ Her smile reflected her sarcasm. Then she thought for a moment. ‘What was going on downstairs between you and Cai?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know perfectly well what I mean, Li Yan. You were prodding him to see if he’d squeal.’ She mimicked, ‘As National Supervisor of Coaching, I would have thought you might have some expertise in the subject. What was that all about?’
Li watched the women warming up on the track below for the sixty meters sprint. Three Chinese, three Americans. He sighed. ‘In the late nineties Cai coached a team of athletes from one of the western provinces. Several of them scored big successes. At home and abroad. Gold medals, world records. Then one by one they started turning up positive in dope tests. They were almost all discredited, and so was Cai.’
Margaret looked at him in amazement. ‘So you made him your Supervisor of Coaching?’
Li said, ‘He was in the wilderness for several years. Largely discredited. But he always claimed he had no idea his athletes were taking drugs, and there was never any proof against him. And there was no denying his talents.’ He sneaked a glance at her, embarrassed again. ‘I guess he must have friends in high places who believe those talents can’t be overlooked.’
The crack of the starting pistol cut across their conversation, and they turned to see six women flying from their blocks, legs and arms pumping for a few short moments of powerful intensity. Americans and Chinese covering the ground with astonishing speed. And these were no tiny, coy Asian women. They were as tall as the Americans, powerfully built, the muscles of their legs standing out like knots in wood. In just over seven seconds they had covered the sixty meters, and crossed the finish line to run up the ramp to bring themselves to a stop. The Americans had won, and Margaret let out a shriek of delight, only to become suddenly self-conscious as silent faces all around her turned to look. ‘Oops,’ she said under her breath.
Li lowered his forehead into his hand and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long night, he could tell.
Margaret stood in the foyer, drawing looks from competitors and officials alike. They all knew she wasn’t an athlete because of her distended belly. The security man on the door kept staring at her uncertainly, as if wondering whether or not she should really be here. But he never asked. She heard some familiar accents as a group of male American runners in track-suits, carrying sports bags, brushed past her. She felt a momentary pang of homesickness as she heard them laughing, and she watched them push out through glass doors into the streams of spectators making their way out of the stadium. It had been pretty much honours-even over the course of the evening. The Chinese were just ahead on points, so the crowd was going home happy. And Li was in the dressing rooms talking to athletes.
It was hot here, and airless, a sour smell of body odour and feet hanging in what air there was. She was beginning to feel a little faint and for a moment closed her eyes and became aware of herself swaying.
She felt a hand on her arm and a girl’s voice said, ‘Are you okay?’
Margaret opened her eyes, startled, and found herself looking into the concerned face of a young woman with an ugly purple birthmark covering most of one cheek. ‘Yes. Thank you.’
The girl was nervous. ‘My name Dai Lili. Everyone call me Lily.’ A smile flitted briefly across her face before a shadow darkened it again and she glanced quickly around.
‘Are you an athlete?’ Margaret asked. She had forgotten about her faintness.
‘Sure. I run in three thousand meter heats tomorrow. Hope to be in final day after.’ She hesitated. ‘You lady pathologist, yes? With Chinese policeman?’
Margaret was taken aback. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Everyone talking about it in dressing room. Supervising Coach Cai, he say no one to talk to you.’
Margaret felt her hackles rising. ‘Did he now?’ She looked at the girl. ‘But you’re talking to me.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I wanna speak to you, lady. I must speak to you. Ve-err important. Don’t know who else to talk to.’ Her eyes darted to the left and down the corridor to the dressing rooms. Her face visibly paled, and her birthmark seemed to darken. ‘Not now. Later, okay?’
And she hurried away down the corridor, eyes to the floor, brushing past Supervising Coach Cai as he emerged into the foyer. He glanced after the girl and then looked over at Margaret, clearly wondering if there had been some kind of exchange. Against all her inclinations, Margaret smiled over at him. ‘Congratulations, Supervisor Cai,’ she said. ‘The Americans will have to do better tomorrow.’
He inclined his head in the minutest acknowledgement, but his face never cracked. He turned and strode through double doors leading on to the track.
Margaret was left disturbed by the encounter. The image of the girl’s face had imprinted itself on her mind. A plain girl, with shoulder-length black hair tied back in a loose ponytail. Tall and skinny, with dark, frightened rabbit’s eyes. The strange purple birthmark. Margaret repeated the name to herself so that she would remember it. Dai Lili. What could she possibly have wanted to speak to her about?
When Li emerged from the dressing rooms fifteen minutes later, his mood was black. ‘A complete waste of time,’ he told her. ‘I learned nothing that I didn’t already know.’ He led Margaret out into the cold night, and they headed for the ornamental bridge and the smell of the sewer.
‘Not very talkative, were they?’ Margaret asked.
‘It was like trying to get blood from a stone,’ Li growled.
‘Perhaps that’s because Supervisor Cai warned them all not to talk to you.’
He stopped and looked at her. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Because a young female athlete told me. She’s running in the three thousand meters heats tomorrow. She said she needed to speak to me urgently about something very important, and that Supervisor Cai had told all the athletes not to talk to us.’
Li was seething. ‘What does that bastard think he’s playing at?’ And it was all Margaret could do to stop him from going back to pick a fight.
‘He’d only deny it, Li Yan,’ she said. ‘What’s more interesting is why that girl wanted to speak to me. What it was she had to say.’
‘She didn’t tell you?’
Margaret shook her head. ‘She saw Cai coming and scuttled off. But whatever it was, I didn’t get the feeling she was going to tell me there and then.’ She slipped her arm through his, and they hurried over the bridge together, holding their breath. When they got to the other side, she said, ‘So they didn’t tell you anything at all?’
Li shrugged. ‘Just confirmed what I already knew. That none of the three killed in the road crash had had their heads shaved the last time anyone saw them.’ He shook his own head. ‘And everyone thought it was really unlikely that Xing Da would have chosen to cut off his hair. It was his flag of independence, they said, his statement of individuality.’
‘So why would somebody else do it?’ Margaret asked.
Li was baffled. ‘I have no idea, Margaret. But it simply cannot be a coincidence. Four out of five athletes who have died in the last month, all with their heads shaved?’
‘And the weightlifter?’
Li sighed. ‘I don’t know. There doesn’t seem any doubt that he died from natural causes. Maybe there’s no connection. Maybe he really is just a coincidence.’
‘But you don’t think so.’
He held up his arms in frustration. ‘I don’t know what to think. I really don’t.’ He checked his watch. ‘But right now I’d better get you home. I have an appointment with a dead runner.’