Hold Your Breath, China

by Qiu Xiaolong

  ‘What are you planning to do?’

  ‘Nothing but the routine canvassing. Perhaps there’re some connection overlooked in the folder Qin has just given me. For Li, the Party’s interest has to be placed above everything, so he will not have it declared a serial murder case at this moment, lest the city is thrown into a collective panic. But if another victim turns up, and then another still, it means big trouble for the bureau, and for him—’

  A text message came in from Chen. Glancing at it, Yu frowned.

  ‘Chen’s going to Wuxi. Another mysterious trip.’

  ‘To Wuxi? There was a murder case he investigated there, I remember, several years ago.’

  ‘No, he had a vacation there – an all-inclusive package Zhao gave him for free, he told me, as the lake was terribly contaminated that year. He helped a local young cop there with an investigation without taking any credit. That criminal was caught and punished. I don’t think the present trip of his is related to that in any way.’

  ‘Well, he tells you whatever he chooses,’ Peiqin said, slightly shaking her head. ‘But during the investigation he was devastated with an ill-starred romantic affair.’

  ‘How did you know? He never talked to me about it.’

  ‘You’re a good detective, but you’re unable to detect those things with your inspector.’ She jumped down barefoot to take a copy of Shanghai Literature from a small corner shelf. ‘He’s written a long poem about the experience. I happened to read it in the magazine.’

  ‘A love poem?’

  ‘No, not exactly. She’s an environmental activist or something like that. But it’s one written after his vacation there. He appeared not to be himself for several months after he came back. So do you think his trip to Wuxi may have anything to do with it?’

  ‘No, not possible at this moment, not with Zhao’s assignment on his hands.’

  ‘Whatever you say. By the way, is there anything I could do to help? It’s similar to the red mandarin dress serial murder case, I remember, about the bizarre revenge of a murderer traumatized during the Cultural Revolution.’

  ‘Well, people are already discussing it online, according to Qin, about the possibility of the murderer killing another one anytime soon.’

  ‘Then I’ll have a busy day tomorrow,’ she said with a knowing smile, ‘to get some info on the Internet before they’re blocked. I think I know a way or two to climb over the wall.’

  ‘The firewall, you mean?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No need to put yourself in too much risk. It’s not even a case for our squad. You’re just so busy with your things in the restaurant.’

  ‘Hasn’t your chief inspector called me the best amateur female investigator?’

  ‘Now you mention it, he actually referred to you in a phone call today.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Remember the Wenhui journalist who came with him to the Buddhist service at Longhua Temple?’

  ‘Lianping, that’s her name. A young, vivacious girl. What about her?’

  ‘The fourth victim, also a young girl named Xiang, used to work in the same newspaper office. Chen mentioned that you knew Lianping.’

  ‘Yes, she once tried to help out, provide some information through me. So he wants me to contact her?’

  ‘He did not say so, but we hardly know anything about Xiang.’

  ‘Lianping will be more than willing to help again, I bet.’

  ‘How can you be so sure of it?’

  ‘You men never see what’s going on before your very eyes.’ Peiqin nestled closer to put a finger lightly on his eyelid. ‘Not because of me, needless to say, but because of your chief inspector.’

  For Inspector Chen, it never rains but it pours.

  Fifteen minutes to ten that evening, a text message came in from Qin.

  ‘We’ve just got some latest info about the last victim. Shall I have it specially delivered to you, Chief Inspector Chen?’

  ‘Thanks. But the assignment from Comrade Secretary Zhao will hardly leave me any time, I’m afraid.’

  On second thought, he typed another sentence to Qin. ‘I’ll touch base with you or with Detective Yu if I can manage to have some time tomorrow.’

  It was quite likely nothing but a gesture on the part of Qin, but Chen thought he did not have to say something like a downright no.

  And he was hungry again. So he unwrapped another Zongzi and put it in the microwave. To his surprise, it tasted even more delicious when warmed, with its stuffing a unique combination of pork belly and Jinhua ham he had never tasted before.

  As he rose from the table, licking the sticky-rice-covered forefinger, another unexpected ding broke into the silence of the night.

  It was a text message from Huang to Chen’s special phone.

  ‘Got something for you.’

  It was short and vague, carrying the implication that it could be something too sensitive for Huang to say, even on the special phone.

  Taking a gulp of the cold coffee left in the cup, Chen thought he knew what he was going to do.

  Like in The Thirty-Six Stratagems: to sail across the ocean undetected by the eyes in the sky.

  After sending a response to Huang about his coming to Wuxi the next morning, he decided to compose a text message to Zhao. It did not have to be long or specific, which was one good thing about text messaging.

  ‘Some possible new development. Going to Wuxi tomorrow – possibly for a day or two there.’

  It appeared to be a plausible move, making sense for him to go to Wuxi, as it was from Wuxi that Shanshan came to Shanghai. No one would have to guarantee any breakthrough from the trip.

  In the meantime, he might be able to do something else. For an investigation in secret like that, any ‘new development’ could reasonably justify his maneuvering around.

  After pacing about in the room for several minutes, he worked out another short message to Zhao.

  ‘Started to check around. Prepared to close in. For the moment, what I’ve learned so far seems to point to the petroleum industry – some office there in Beijing.’

  The petroleum industry was commonly known to have a lot to do with the air pollution. For Shanshan’s project, it might have been a matter of course for her to check into it. Anyway, it would probably not be a shot too wide of the mark. At this stage, he did not have to finger-point to anyone in specific.

  But it demonstrated that he was carrying out Zhao’s order in earnest.

  DAY TWO

  TUESDAY

  Early the next morning, Chen sat dozing against the window of the high-speed Shanghai–Wuxi train, having slept only about three hours last night.

  The train was already slowing down, with the LCD panel in the upper front of the car declaring: ‘We are reaching Wuxi, the destination of the journey, in three minutes.’

  It took less than an hour for the high-speed train to make the trip. China had indeed been changing so fast, as Zhao had put it. The last time he had traveled to Wuxi it took more than three hours.

  He stepped down onto the platform where he saw Detective Huang running over waving his hand. Huang looked overjoyed at the sight of him.

  ‘Chief Inspector Chen—’

  ‘Call me Chen,’ he said, raising a finger to his lips.

  ‘I’ve arranged for a perfect stay at a fancy hotel with the lake view for “Master Chen” in Wuxi, Master Chen—’

  ‘Just Chen, no Master. And I’m sorry to tell you that there’s an unexpected change in the plan. I can spend only a couple of hours in Wuxi.’

  ‘But I have already booked the hotel, Chen. A five-star one by the lake, and a gourmet reception dinner too. The chef will serve all the lake specials.’

  ‘Thanks, Huang. I really appreciate it. Let’s go to the hotel then. I’ll check in under my name, but then you can stay there. For a couple of days more if you like. I’ll give my credit card to the front desk. You don’t have to worry about the expense, which is covered by the
Party Central Discipline Committee. Afterward, you just need to mail the receipt to me.’

  ‘I … I see, Chief Inspector Chen,’ Huang said, unable to contain his excitement as he led Chen to a black Camry in the parking lot. ‘Another big case from the Party Central Discipline Committee, I suppose.’

  ‘It could be really big,’ Chen said, seating himself in the front seat beside Huang. ‘At this moment, I’m the officially designated tourist guide for Comrade Secretary Zhao during his vacation in Shanghai.’

  ‘Wow, Comrade Secretary Zhao from Beijing. You don’t have to explain any details to me, I totally understand. Just tell me what you want me to do. My lips are sealed.’

  ‘You told me you have something for me – regarding Shanshan, right?’

  ‘Right, I’ll show them to you when we get to the hotel,’ Huang said, pulling the car out into the avenue in front of the station. ‘But let me tell you something about her first.’

  ‘Go ahead, Little Huang.’

  ‘To begin with, you remember the reason why she did not want to dump Jiang at that time, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s because of their common environmental cause, and all that idealistic stuff. To be fair to her, it’s also because of her unwillingness to throw in the rock when Jiang’s already at the bottom of the well.’

  ‘Yes, that part I do remember.’

  ‘Shortly after Jiang was thrown into jail, an article appeared in Wuxi Daily as some netizens maintained that he was innocent. In response, the article presented a long list of his wrongdoings, including his blackmail in the name of environment protection, and his extramarital affair with Shanshan, too. At the time he was seeing her, he was still not divorced from his wife. Shanshan was not named in the article, but with her factory and her position as an environmental engineer mentioned in the article, people knew it was her. I learned from my sources, however, she had no idea at the time about his marital status – not until the publication of the article. She was too upset at the discovery to go on with him.’

  ‘That’s really too much for her. You have uncovered the true reason. Good work.’

  Ironically, it was also something that could have mattered crucially to Chen, and to Shanshan as well, at the time of the inspector’s vacation in Wuxi.

  She could have made a different decision.

  But not any more.

  Huang might have noticed the change in his expression. For the next few minutes, Huang seemed to be concentrating on driving, saying nothing.

  Chen did not speak, either.

  Then the car was getting off the highway and coming into view of a new magnificent hotel at the lakeside. The hotel was appropriately named Wuxi Lakeside.

  After they checked in with Chen’s ID and moved into a spacious room, Huang produced a bunch of pictures in an envelope from his jacket pocket and spread them out on the desk like a colorful mosaic, shaking his head almost imperceptibly.

  The pictures were of Shanshan – and Shanshan with a man – on a white sand beach stretching out to the blue horizon: some with them wandering along hand in hand, some with them sunbathing on the beach nestling against each other. Presumably they were on a vacation somewhere, with two or three resort signs visible in the distant background – in English.

  ‘With her husband Yao in the United States.’

  Following Huang’s glance, Chen saw her in a white two-piece bikini in several pictures, and in two or three of them topless, lying on her stomach on a large florid beach towel, drawing her slender legs up backward, with Yao busy rubbing oil on her bare back.

  There was almost a suggestion of them being from a tabloid magazine’s exposé.

  ‘Where did you get these pictures, Little Huang?’

  ‘From Bei, the net cop I told you about in the phone call yesterday.’ Huang added with a sheepish smile, ‘I made fun of Bei about his monotonous work. Since Shanshan spends a lot of time in Shanghai and posts most of her blogs on big websites there, what’s the point in your staring at her Internet posts all the time in Wuxi? You can hardly tell what she really looks like!’

  ‘So you goaded him into telling things about her. A brilliant gambit.’

  ‘Thank you, Chief Inspector Chen. I learned so much from you the last time you were in Wuxi. Anyway, Bei told me that he’s busy communicating with cops in Shanghai and elsewhere. Even in Wuxi, he’s responsible not just for her online writings. He can follow her everywhere in the Internet age. To prove his point, last night he sent me a large electronic file of pictures.’

  ‘Unbelievable! How could she have shown these pictures to others?’

  ‘I asked Bei the same question. He made no direct answer, but he added that you never know. No one can tell whether the pictures may come to appear online one of these days.’

  ‘No, I don’t think …’ he said, leaving the sentence unfinished. Their appearance online might not give rise to a political scandal, like in a number of corruption cases, with the pictures provided by the enraged mistress or ernai dumped by the officials, but some controversy could be guaranteed. For these glamorous pictures of an attractive woman, an Internet celebrity barebacked and barelegged, in the company of a billionaire husband, touching and kissing each other, there would be far more voracious viewers than for her Weibo posts about the environmental crisis – they would be downloaded, forwarded and reforwarded, and most likely attract filthy comments, too.

  ‘But some of these pictures could have been taken by her husband – in the United States or somewhere else out of China.’

  ‘That I don’t know. But if not, possibly by somebody else, without their knowledge,’ Huang said, frowning. ‘And according to Bei, that’s just the latest bunch.’

  ‘She’s a celebrity with paparazzi following her around in the United States?’

  ‘Or the pictures could have been taken by a surveillance camera—’

  ‘On the beach?’

  ‘That’s a good point. It’s hard to put a surveillance camera there. Not at a close range. But we don’t have to worry too much about those pictures, Chief. They have nothing to do with us.’

  ‘There is more than meets the eye, I’m afraid.’

  ‘At least no hidden camera for this hotel room, I’ve made sure of that.’

  ‘What else did Bei tell you?’

  ‘Not much, but I think I’ll talk to him again soon.’

  ‘Don’t push him too hard lest he gets suspicious,’ Chen said, changing the subject as he rose, taking a look out the window. ‘It’s truly a nice hotel. It is called Li Lake here, right?’

  ‘Yes, Li Lake is part of Tai Lake, a tributary. It’s so named because the well-known statesman Fan Li stayed here more than two thousand years ago. The hotel is very close to Li Garden. Named after him. You can walk over there in just a couple of minutes.’

  ‘You’re right about that. Yes, Li Garden. Do you know about the romance of Fan Li and Xi Shi?’

  ‘No, nothing. Except that Xi Shi was one of the four most famous beauties in ancient China.’

  ‘Fan Li saved the State of Yue with his brilliant brain, and Xi Shi, with her voluptuous body. Afterward, the two lovers got reunited. As the King of Yue became so smug with the success, Fan Li and Xi Shi went into hiding, staying incognito in a house here with a back garden, and then sailing out on the lake in a sampan to no one knows where. It’s said that they lived happily ever after.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘According to a judgement made by Fan Li, the King of Yue, like other kings, was capable of sharing with others the hardship and travail, but not the fortune. Whether Fan Li and Xi Shi in their real lives were nearly as lucky as in the romantic tale, no one could tell. Such “happily-ever-after” stories are popular among Chinese people just because they’re practically non-existent in reality.’

  ‘You know more about Lake Li than a native Wuxianese, Chief Inspector Chen.’

  ‘O that I could retire by rivers and lakes, white-haired, sailing in a
small boat after setting the country in order.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Some lines by Li Shangyin, a Tang dynasty poet. Such wonderful lines about Fan Li.’

  ‘You’re a super scholar, Chief Inspector Chen.’

  ‘Well, I’m just a tourist guide in Shanghai, so I need to know those stories. Now you go ahead and enjoy the five-star hotel, but I have to leave.’

  ‘Whatever you say,’ Huang said sheepishly. ‘Take the set of pictures with you. I’ve printed them out for you.’

  ‘Thanks. You’re very considerate. The set could be a souvenir for the trip. Please forward an electronic file of the pictures to me too. I may have to enlarge some of them in case I need to study the details.’

  In the Shanghai Police Bureau, Detective Yu was staring at a picture in a folder from Detective Qin.

  Qin had dragged Yu over to his office first thing in the morning for a discussion on the latest development in the investigation. What Qin had just learned from Internal Security was vague, scanty, though the video about Xiang and Geng was developing into quite a storm in cyberspace.

  ‘The video came out online late Saturday night or early Sunday morning, instantly going viral. Before it was blocked in less than five minutes, it had already been viewed for the Old Heaven alone knows how many times,’ Qin said, shaking his head like a rattle drum. ‘In connection with the serial murder case, an alarming number of wild conspiracy theories have popped up like the bamboo shoots after a heavy rain. Some of the netizens are simply like flies smelling blood, buzzing around non-stop.’

  In spite of his requests, Internal Security refused to grant Qin full access to the video. All he got was that low-resolution picture presenting the intimate scene of Xiang and Geng holding each other in a massage room.

  ‘But what could that possibly mean for our investigation, Qin?’

  ‘For one thing, with the video posted online almost immediately after Xiang’s death, it has further convinced Internal Security in their original theory about the case being a political one, as they have suspected from the beginning.’