Apricot's Revenge

by Song Ying

  “Miss, could you check the card number and tell me where Miss Ma Yin lives.”

  “You’re wiring her money, but you don’t know her address?” The clerk looked up from her screen and eyed Zhu.

  “It’s not my money. I’m doing it for a friend.”

  The clerk tapped a few keys and said, “The card number is from the Guangzhou area. That’s all the information I have here.”

  That was strange.

  “The cardholder opened the account in March, when depositors weren’t required to use their real names,” the clerk explained.

  “I see.”

  So there was no telling whether Ma Yin was a man or a woman, and it was likely an alias. Zhu felt uneasy when she left the bank. Little did she know that two other people received similar envelopes on the same day she received hers. They were Zhou Zhengxing and Zhong Tao.

  Zhou’s envelope, with his name and address printed on the outside, included copies of the same photos sent to Zhu Mei-feng.

  Need money. Please wire 200,000 RMB (an insignificant amount to you) to China Merchant Bank All-in-One-Card # 00200XXX1238, under the name Ma Yin.

  You have three days. Do not delay or call the police, or be prepared for the consequences.

  I believe, Mr. Zhou, you would not want these amorous pictures to be seen by your wife in her sickbed.

  Zhou’s wife, saintly kindergarten teacher, had set up her own neighborhood day care center for some extra income to help her husband start a business. She worked hard but never complained; the day care center was a great success, and she handed all the money over to her husband, who had made his first fortune in interior fittings. Unfortunately, she was paralyzed from the waist down in a traffic accident. Zhou treated his wife well and did his best to make her happy. Knowing about him and Zhu Mei-feng would be a savage, maybe even fatal blow. The blackmailer obviously knew that his wife’s happiness was Zhou’s weakness.

  After some hesitation and a calculation of the pros and cons, he withdrew two hundred thousand yuan from his personal account and wired it to the China Merchant Bank account specified by the blackmailer.

  The envelope Zhong Tao received contained only six photos. Three had been taken at Hu Guohao’s memorial: one was a close-up of the blue wreath, enlarged to the point that the words on the memorial scrolls were clearly visible. The other two were of Ding Lan, one a full-body shot, the other a medium shot, both showing her strange expression. Dressed in a dark blue short-sleeved blouse, she appeared to be standing near the rear entrance of the auditorium, with wreaths and shadowy figures in the foreground. The other three photos had been snapped secretly, most likely when Zhong and Ding had met at the Milan Café. It was a tight space and the interior light was a dim orange, but the photos had good light exposure, which meant the photographer was a pro.

  The note read:

  Need money. Please wire 200,000 RMB (an insignificant amount to you) to China Merchant Bank All-in-One-Card # 00200XXX1238, under Ma Yin.

  You have three days. Do not delay or call the police, or be prepared for the consequences.

  I believe, Mr. Zhong, that you would not want your confidant, Miss Ding Lan, to be entangled in the unsolved murder of Hu Guohao on June 25.

  The blackmailer was in for a surprise—three days went by and no news from Zhong.

  At noon on the fourth day, Zhong Tao received an anonymous call from a woman.

  “Is this Mr. Zhong Tao?”

  The voice seemed muffled, as if the caller was covering her mouth or had a cold.

  “Yes. What can I do for you?”

  “Your three days are up, but no money, Mr. Zhong.”

  “Oh, it’s you, Ma Yin.”

  “You’re a smart man, Mr. Zhong, and I don’t suppose you’d like those photos to fall into the hands of the police.”

  “Are you blackmailing me?” Zhong asked calmly.

  “I’m short of money and would appreciate some help, Mr. Zhong.”

  “Sorry, I can’t help you,” Zhong said impassively.

  “Aren’t you concerned about the consequences?”

  “What consequences? Hu Guohao’s memorial was open to the public. So those photos mean nothing.”

  “It’s not that simple. They show that Miss Ding was intimately interested in Hu Guohao’s death.”

  “That’s pure speculation.”

  “Not quite. I also know that you were somehow involved with Hu Guohao’s death.”

  “Is that so? Who are you, anyway?” A hint of wariness crept into his voice.

  “Who I am isn’t important. What’s important is that the money must be wired right away.”

  “I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed,” Zhong said coldly. “I think you should put a stop to this right now. You know that blackmailers suffer a very unpleasant fate.”

  The caller hung up.

  — 4 —

  Y District Public Security Office. The Criminal Division Chief’s Office.

  Xiaochuan came in with a report for Team Leader Cui.

  “Chief,” he said, “something’s up with Zhu Mei-feng.”

  “So tell me what it is.”

  “She just wired two hundred thousand yuan to an All-in-One-Card account holder at the CMB.”

  “So?”

  “We asked the bank to check and, get this, first, it isn’t her account, and second, another wire transfer in the same amount went into that account on the same day. And it was from Zhou Zhengxing.”

  “Really? That’s no coincidence.” Now Cui was interested. “Whose account is it?”

  “Someone called Ma Yin, no other information.”

  “An anonymous account.”

  “That’s right,” Xiaochuan said. “Should we get the Bureau to freeze the account?”

  “We will, when the time comes.”

  “Something’s going on.”

  “That’s for sure. Keep a close watch on the account.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  Two days later, a woman phoned Zhu Mei-feng at her salon office.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Chairwoman Zhu?”

  The caller’s voice sounded strange, somehow distorted. Zhu could not tell the caller’s age.

  “This is she. And you are?”

  “Ma Yin. You’ve heard the name before?”

  “Ah—” Zhu’s paled.

  “I want to thank you, Chairwoman Zhu, for the two hundred thousand yuan,” the caller said politely.

  “What else do you want?” Zhu was on the verge of hysteria.

  “You’re a smart woman, Chairwoman Zhu.” The caller made a point of emphasizing Zhu’s title. “We can call the whole thing off if you’ll wire another two hundred thousand.”

  “What? You want another two hundred thousand?” Zhu could hardly get the words out.

  “You heard me.” The caller was relentless.

  “So how do you call the whole thing off?”

  “The day after the money is wired, you’ll receive all the negatives.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Who I am isn’t important. What’s important is your public image and reputation, Chairwoman Zhu.”

  “How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

  “I’m a woman, just like you. And I won’t go back on my word. But remember, you have three days.” With that, the caller hung up.

  Zhu put down the phone, feeling as if she were waking from a bad dream. She sat frozen in her chair; the more she thought about the call, the more frightened she became. Finally, she picked up the phone again and called Zhou Zhengxing’s cell.

  * * *

  “Lao Zhou, it’s me. I need to see you now.”

  I’m on my way to the city government office. What’s so urgent?”

  “I can’t talk over the phone. I’ll meet you at the Tangyi Tea House.”

  “Let’s not meet outside.” Zhou looked at his watch. “Come to my office, two thirty.”

  “At Landmark?�
��

  “Yes.”

  “All right. I’ll see you then.”

  Zhou turned off his cell and told the driver, “Go back to Landmark.”

  Ever since the interview with the police, Zhou and Zhu had been especially careful with their meetings. He assumed he was being followed, so Landmark would be the safest place to see her, given their positions at the company. No one would question a meeting between the Board Chairman and the CEO.

  He was back at Landmark at two ten. Twenty minutes later, Zhu arrived in her red BMW.

  Zhou’s personal assistant, Ah-mei, greeted Zhu cordially outside the Chairwoman’s twenty-fourth-floor office.

  “Ah, it’s you, Big Sister Zhu.”

  “I’d like a cup of coffee.”

  “Of course. Mr. Zhou said he needed to talk to you about some company business.”

  “Please tell him I’ll see him now.”

  “Yes.”

  A few minutes later, Zhou calmly strode across the hallway, entered the Chairwoman’s office, and closed the door behind him.

  Zhu handed him the anonymous note.

  “I received this five days ago.”

  “I got one just like it,” Zhou said, “along with a stack of pictures of the two of us.”

  “Really?” This was something she’d never expected. They looked at each other.

  “Did you wire the money?” he asked her. She nodded.

  “I thought the money would take care of the problem,” she said. “But she phoned me at the salon today. She wants another two hundred thousand.”

  “So she isn’t happy with four hundred thousand.”

  Zhou had obviously paid also, which increased Mei-feng’s sense of unease.

  “A greedy goddamn woman!” Zhou cursed.

  “Why don’t I wire her the money. She promised to give me the negatives.”

  “No.” Zhou shook his head. “Even if she gives you the negatives, you can’t be sure she hasn’t made copies. She could ask for another two hundred thousand, then four hundred thousand, even six hundred thousand.”

  “So what do we do?” Zhu Mei-feng was clearly frightened.

  “The best solution is to shut her up forever.” He spit out the words in a low voice.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” Zhu warned him, looking increasingly worried.

  “That, of course, would only be a last resort,” Zhou said to ease her mind. “She just wants money. Why don’t you put her off for a couple of days and see what happens.”

  “What if we tell the police?”

  “Let’s not do anything rash before we know who she is.”

  “She sounded to be in her thirties.”

  “Try this,” Zhou said. “Change your phone at the salon to one with a caller ID.”

  “Good idea, I’ll do it right away.”

  * * *

  The blackmailer’s goal was six hundred thousand yuan, which she believed she had coming to her. She had planned to get the money from three separate sources, two hundred thousand each, but had not expected that the money from Zhong Tao would not materialize. That had necessitated a call to Zhu Mei-feng for more.

  Had Zhu and Zhou known this, a tragedy could have been avoided.

  * * *

  After installing caller ID on her phone, Zhu followed her normal routine—arriving at the salon in the morning and leaving at five thirty in the evening—for two tension-filled days.

  Nothing happened.

  Until the third day. The woman called again at noon.

  “Is this Chairwoman Zhu?” The same muffled voice.

  “Miss Ma Yin?”

  “Right. I want to remind you that the money has not arrived.”

  Zhu glanced at the caller ID and could not believe her eyes.

  “I, I know.” She tried to mask her shock.

  “You don’t think you can get out of this, do you?”

  “No, not at all. It’s just that I have a bit of a cash-flow problem.” Zhu strained to sound convincing while stealing another glance at the caller ID. She was sure of the number.

  “For a rich woman like you, this tiny amount shouldn’t be a problem.” Now the blackmailer began to sound brazen.

  “It’s the truth. Please give me two more days, will you?”

  “Are you playing games with me, Madam Chairwoman?”

  “Of course not. I gave you my word.” She spoke gently in hopes that her sincerity would come through.

  “All right.” The blackmailer hesitated before giving her ultimatum. “I’ll trust you this time. But remember, I must have the money by noon in two days. If not, you’ll have only yourself to blame when the scandal hits.” She hung up.

  The tension had Zhu trembling and breaking out in a cold sweat. When she recovered, she dialed Zhou’s office.

  “Lao Zhou, it’s me. Go see who’s in my office.”

  “Why?” Zhou was puzzled.

  “Ma Yin just called from the phone in my office at Landmark.”

  “No!” Zhou was understandably shocked. He opened his office door; it was lunch hour, so the hallway was quiet. He raced to the Chairman’s office, where the door was ajar; the secretary’s office was deserted. Sensing that something was amiss, he pushed open the door and walked in. There was no one inside. A ray of bright sunlight slanting in through the window shone on the surface of the desk. He stared at the black record-a-phone, lost in thought. Only two people at Landmark had a key to this room: Zhu Mei-feng and Feng Xueying.

  He turned to walk out, but before he shut the door, someone called out to him.

  “Are you looking for Big Sister Zhu, Mr. Zhou?” It was his personal assistant, Ah-mei. “She hasn’t been in for a couple of days.”

  “Was someone in there just now?”

  “Ah-ying was. She said Big Sister Zhu asked her to put some stuff together.”

  “I see.” Now everything was clear. “Where is she now?”

  “She just left—for lunch, I think.”

  “All right,” Zhou said, “Don’t tell anyone I was here.”

  “I won’t.”

  — 5 —

  Xiaochuan went in to see Chief Cui.

  “Chief,” he said excitedly, “Ma Yin just withdrew some money from the account.”

  “Which bank?”

  “CMB’s Beiling branch.”

  “How much?”

  “Forty thousand. She wanted two hundred thousand, but the clerk wouldn’t let her, saying the bank had to be notified two days in advance when the amount exceeded fifty thousand.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “We ran over to the branch office as soon as we received the call. The clerk said the woman was wearing dark shades and was on the young side. We checked the surveillance tape; it looked very much like someone from Landmark.”

  “Who?”

  “Feng Xueying.”

  “So it’s her. I should’ve figured that out.” Cui slapped his desk. The Landmark Building was like a black hole hiding unfathomable secrets.

  “Check her out at once, her background, recent movements, and her social network.”

  “On it, sir.”

  * * *

  Something unimaginable occurred on the day after the police turned their attention to Feng Xueying.

  On the night of July twentieth, a traffic accident occurred on a quiet street in a Beiling residential district. A woman, a white-collar worker, was struck by a speeding car and died on the spot. The car, a black VW Santana, sped away, heading northwest.

  The first responders opened the victim’s purse to see who she was. Her ID identified her as Feng Xueying, secretary to the Chairman of the Board of the Landmark Group.

  Chief Cui, Xiaochuan, Yao Li, and a crime scene technician, as well as the city traffic police were soon on the scene. Feng Xueying lay across the sidewalk on the narrow, dimly lit street, her head bathed in blood, her face barely recognizable. The ME noted that her right leg was shattered and that she had at least four broken ribs. Th
e car had to have been speeding to cause such damage. Shards of broken glass were found near the victim, probably from the car’s headlights.

  An eyewitness told the police that the car sort of crept along the nearly deserted street, until it was ten or fifteen meters away from the victim, when the driver turned on his high beams and sped up, giving her no time to escape. The terrified eyewitness managed only a brief look at the plate: it was a Guangdong plate whose last three digits were 144.

  The police immediately set up roadblocks northwest of the site.

  A search of Feng’s purse produced, among the usual women’s items, keys, an All-in-One-Card from CMB and a four-millimeter pocket-recorder mini tape, as well as a used surgical mask.

  When they returned to the station, Cui told Yao Li to get a pocket recorder for the tape they’d found in Feng’s purse. He inserted the tape and pushed PLAY. As a soft, scratchy noise emerged from the tiny speaker, Cui, Xiaochuan, and Yao strained to listen.

  A conversation between a man and a woman came up first, exposing Feng’s blackmailing scheme:

  “Is this Mr. Zhong Tao?”

  “Yes. What can I do for you?”

  “Your three days are up, but there’s no money.”

  “Oh, it’s you, Ma Yin.”

  Xiaochuan and Yao Li exchanged looks.

  “The woman’s voice is muffled. It doesn’t sound at all like Feng Xueying,” Yao whispered. Cui waved for her to keep listening.

  “You’re a smart man, Mr. Zhong, and I don’t suppose you’d like those photos to fall into the hands of the police.”

  “Are you blackmailing me?” Zhong asked calmly.

  “I’m short of money and would appreciate some help, Mr. Zhong.”

  “Sorry, I can’t help you,” Zhong said impassively.

  “Aren’t you concerned about the consequences?”

  “What consequences? Hu Guohao’s memorial was open to the public. So those photos mean nothing.”

  “It’s not that simple. They show that Miss Ding was intimately interested in Hu Guohao’s death.”

  “That’s pure speculation.”

  “Not quite. I also know that you were somehow involved with Hu Guohao’s death.”

  “Is that so? Who are you, anyway?” A hint of wariness had crept into his voice.

  “Who I am isn’t important. What’s important is that the money must be wired right away.”