by Qiu Xiaolong
“A good life with that bastard?”
“But he is still her husband, isn’t he? And if she remains here-with you, what will others think?”
“What matters is what she thinks,” Liu said. “When she came to me in need, the least I could do was to shelter her.”
“You have done a lot for her. I’ve seen her passport picture. She looks so different today. Almost like another woman.”
“Yes, she’s been resurrected. Too romantic a word, you will say.”
“No. It is the very word, except that we are not living in a romantic age.”
“Romance is not something out there, Chief Inspector Chen. It is in your mind,” Liu said, shaking his head. “I’ve told you what I know, as you have requested. What do you want to tell me?”
“Let me level with you, Liu,” Chen said, despite the knowledge that he could not. “I admire your intention to help her, so I would like to say something personal.”
“Please, go ahead.”
“You’re playing with fire.”
“What do you mean?”
“She is aware of your feelings for her, isn’t she?”
“I liked her-as early as in high school. It was such a long time ago. I do not have to erase the past.”
“But your feelings are the same, whether for the queen in high school, or a middle-aged woman pregnant with another man’s child,” Chen said. “You are Mr. Big Bucks and a lot of women would fall for you head over heels. Let alone after what you have done for her. She cannot help returning your affection.”
“I’m afraid I do not see your point, Chief Inspector Chen.”
“No, you do not see it. As long as you can indulge yourself in reliving your high-school dream, treating her as part of your memory, and as long as she is content with being your insubstantial dream stuff, existing only in your remembrance of the past, things may work out between you two. But in time, she will have recovered enough to be a real woman. Flesh and blood. So on a romantic evening, she may throw herself into your arms. What shall you do?” Chen grew sarcastic in spite of himself. “Will you say no? That will be most cruel. If you say yes, what about your family?”
“Wen knows I’m married. I don’t think she will do that.”
“You don’t think so? So you’ll let her stay as an ex-schoolmate for months, for years. Yes, you are happy to help. But will she be happy when she has to suppress her feelings all the time?”
“Then what the hell am I supposed to do? Turn her away? Send her to the husband who abused her?” Liu retorted angrily. “Or let some gang chase her around like a rabbit?”
“That is what I want to discuss with you.”
“What?”
“The threat from the gangsters. They are frantically searching for her at this very moment. Whatever the police bureau’s reaction to my report, and I have to make a report, you know that, I’m sure the gang will soon learn that she’s staying here with you.”
“How?” Liu demanded “Will the police pass the information to the gangsters?”
“No. But the triads have inside connections. Just as they have learned about Feng’s deal, they will get wind of Wen’s whereabouts. During the last few days, Inspector Rohn and I have been followed everywhere”
“Really, Chief Inspector Chen!”
“On the first day, Inspector Rohn was nearly run down by a motorcycle. On the second, a staircase broke down as we were leaving. On the third, a few hours after our visit to a pregnant Guangxi woman, a gang abducted her, mistaking her for Wen. Detective Yu was almost poisoned in a Fujian hotel. Finally, the day before we came to Suzhou, we were almost caught in a police raid set up to entrap us at the Huating Market.”
“Are you sure these incidents were all attributable to gangsters?”
“These were no coincidences. They have ears inside the police both in Shanghai and Fujian. The situation is serious.”
Liu nodded. “They are infiltrating the business world, too. Several companies here have hired gangsters to collect their debts.”
“You see the point, Liu. According to the latest information I’ve got, the gangsters will not let her alone even after the trial, whether Feng cooperates or not.”
“Why? I’m confused.”
“Don’t ask me why. All I know is that they will do whatever it takes to ferret her out. To make an example of her. And they’ll succeed. It’s a matter of time. She simply deludes herself thinking things will work out if she stays with you here.”
“As a chief inspector, can’t you try to do anything for her, a pregnant woman?”
“I wish I could, Liu. Do you think it’s easy for me to admit how helpless I am-a pathetic example of a policeman? Nothing would make me happier than if I could do something for her.”
All his frustration came out in his voice. For a cop, it was more than a simple matter of loss of face to concede his helplessness, but he could see the response in Liu’s eyes.
“So if you are going to take this into consideration,” Chen continued earnestly, “you can see that it is really in her interest for her to leave. There is no way you can protect her here for much longer.”
“But how I can let her go to him, only to be abused for the rest of her life.”
“No, I don’t think that she will let Feng go on abusing her. The last few days have made a difference. Resurrected-that’s your word. She has gotten on a new footing, I believe.” Chen added, “Besides, Inspector Rohn will be in charge there. She is going to act in Wen’s interests. I will make sure of it.”
“So we are coming back to where we started. Wen has to leave.”
“No. We have a better understanding of the situation. So I’ll try to explain to Wen, and she can decide for herself.”
“All right, Chief Inspector Chen,” Liu said. “You talk to her.”
Chapter 30
Chief Inspector Chen and Liu Qing emerged from the study and entered the living room, where Inspector Rohn and Wen were sitting, waiting in silence.
On the dining room table, however, Chen noticed a difference. There was an impressive array of dishes, among which a gigantic soy-sauce-braised carp lay with its head and tail sticking out of a willow-patterned platter. Possibly it was the very one dangling from Liu’s hand not too long ago. It could not have been easy to prepare a live carp of this size. The other dishes looked tantalizing too. One of them, the pinkish river shrimp stir-fried with green tea leaves, seemed to be still steaming.
There was a plastic apron on the chair by Inspector Rohn. She had probably helped in the kitchen.
“Sorry to keep you waiting so long,” Liu said to Wen. “Chief Inspector Chen wants to have a talk with you.”
“Haven’t you spoken to him?”
“Yes, but it’s up to you to decide. He says you should have a full picture of the situation. It may be very important,” Liu said. “He also has to hear the decision in your own words.”
That was not what Wen had expected to hear. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably, then she said without raising her head. “If you think that it is important.”
“Then I’ll be waiting for you in the study upstairs.”
“What about your carp? The fish will get cold. It’s your favorite.”
It was something small, yet enormous, Chen observed. Wen actually thought about Liu’s favorite dish at such a moment. Did she realize that this could be the last meal she was going to cook for him?
“Don’t worry, Wen. We will warm it up afterward,” Liu said. “Chief Inspector Chen has promised that he will not force you to make any decision. If you decide to stay, you will always be welcome here.”
“So let’s have a talk, Wen,” Chen said.
As soon as Liu left them, Wen broke down. “What has he said to you?” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she took in deep breaths.
“The same as he has said to you.”
“I’ve nothing to add,” Wen said stubbornly, her face covered in her hands. “You can say whatever you
want.”
“As a cop, I cannot say whatever I want to the police bureau. I have to explain why you refuse to leave, or people will not let the matter drop.”
“That’s right, Wen. We need to know your reason.” Catherine joined in, handing Wen a paper napkin for her tears.
“The fact of your staying with Liu here also calls for some explanation,” Chen continued. “If people don’t understand, they will come down hard on Liu. You do not want anything to happen to him, do you?”
“How can they blame him? It’s my own decision.” Wen choked, burying her tear-streaked face in her hands again.
“They can. As a chief inspector, I know how unpleasant things can get for him. This is a joint investigation by China and America. It is not just in your interest, but also in Liu’s, for you to talk to us.”
“What should I say?”
“Well, start from the time when you graduated from high school,” he said, “so that I’ll have a comprehensive picture.”
“Do you really want to know what I have suffered all these years-” Wen could hardly go on with tears trembling in her eyes, “with that monster?”
“It may be painful for you to talk about it, we understand, but it is important.” Catherine poured a cup of water for Wen, who nodded her thanks.
The two of them seemed to be on better terms, Chen observed. He did not know what they had talked about. Wen’s earlier hostility toward Catherine was largely gone. There was a fresh Band-Aid on Catherine’s finger. She had certainly been helping in the kitchen.
So Wen started to narrate in a mechanical voice, as if she were telling a story about somebody else, her face expressionless, her eye vacant, her body occasionally racked with silent sobs.
In 1970, when the educated youth movement swept all over the country, Wen was only fifteen. Upon her arrival at Changle Village in Fujian, however, she found it impossible to squeeze into the small hut with her relative’s three-generation family. As she was the only educated youth in the village, the Revolutionary Committee of the Changle People’s Commune, headed by Feng, assigned to her an unused tool room adjacent to the village barn. There was no electricity or water, nor any furniture except a bed in the room, but she believed in Mao’s call to young people to reform themselves through hardship. Feng turned out not to be, however, the poor-and-lower-middle-class-peasant of Mao’s theory.
Feng started by asking her to talk in his office. As the number-one Party cadre, he was in the position to give political talks, supposedly in an effort to reeducate young people. She had to meet him three or four times a week, with the door locked, Feng sitting like a monkey in human clothes, his hands pawing at her over the red-covered copy of Quotations from Chairman Mao. And what she had dreaded happened one night. Feng broke into her room from the barn. She struggled, but he overpowered her. Afterward, he came almost every night. No one dared to say anything about it in the village. He had not thought about marrying her, but upon learning that she was pregnant, he changed his mind. He had no child from his first wife. Wen was desperate. She thought about abortion. The commune clinic was under his control. She thought about running away. There was no bus transportation at the time. Villagers had to ride a commune tractor for miles to the nearest bus stop. She thought about committing suicide, but she could not bring herself to do so when she felt the baby kicking inside her.
So they got married under a portrait of Chairman Mao. “A revolutionary marriage,” as reported by a local radio station. Feng did not bother to have a marriage certificate. For the first few months, she was tempting, young, educated, from the big city-something for his sexual satisfaction. Soon he lost interest. After the baby was born, he became abusive toward her.
She realized there was no use struggling. Feng was so powerful in those years. At first, occasionally, she still dreamed of somebody coming to her rescue. Soon she gave up. In the cracked mirror she saw she was no longer what she had been. Who would take pity on peasant woman with a sallow, wrinkled face, and a baby bundled on her back as she plowed with an ox in the rice paddy. She came to terms with her fate by cutting herself off from the people in Shanghai.
In 1977, after the end of the Cultural Revolution, Feng was removed from his position. Spoiled by the power he had enjoyed, he would not work like a peasant. She had to support the family. What’s worse, the perverted monster now had all his time and energy free for abusing her. And a reason, too. Among other things, he had been accused of dumping his first wife and seducing an educated youth. He attributed his downfall to that and wreaked his fury on her. When he became aware of her intention to divorce him, he threatened to kill her and her son. He was capable of anything, she knew. So things went on as before. In the early eighties, he started to stay away from home frequently-on “business,” though she never knew what he was really up to. He earned little. The only things he brought home were toys for his son. After the death of their child, things went from bad to worse. He had other women and came home only when he was broke.
She was not surprised that Feng announced he was leaving for the United States. If anything, it was rather surprising that he had not gone earlier. He did not talk to her about his plans. She was a worn-out rag he was going to discard anyway. Last November, he stayed at home for two weeks. She found herself pregnant. He had her take a test. When it showed that she was carrying a boy, he was a changed man. He told her about his trip and promised that he would send for her when he was settled in the United States. He wanted her to start a new life there with him.
She understood this sudden change. Feng was no longer young. It might be his last chance to have a child. Hers, too. So she asked him to postpone the trip. He would not. He did make a phone call home shortly after his arrival in New York. After several weeks’ unexplained silence, he called again to tell her that he was trying to get her out. He wanted her to apply for a passport. She was confounded. Wives left behind usually had to wait for years. Sometimes they, too, had to be smuggled illegally. While waiting for a passport, she got a telephone call that alarmed her and she fled to Suzhou.
It was a long narrative, and difficult to follow, as from time to time, Wen was choked by emotion. Still, she went on resolutely, sparing them no painful details. Chen understood. Wen was catching at her last shred of hope; that the cops would let her stay after hearing a detailed account of her miserable life with Feng. Chen grew more and more uncomfortable. He could write his report to the bureau, describing her misery as he had promised, but he knew that it would be useless.
Inspector Rohn was more visibly disturbed. She rose to make another cup of tea for Wen. Several times she seemed on the verge of saying something, but she swallowed her words.
“Thank you, Wen, but I still need to ask you a couple of questions,” Chen said. “So it was in January that he asked you to apply for a passport.”
“Yes, January.”
“You did not ask how things were with him in the United States, did you?”
“No, I did not”
“I see,” he said. “Because you did not want to go there.”
“How do you know?” Wen stared at him.
“He wanted you to leave in January, but according to our record, you did not start applying for your passport until mid-February. Why did you change your mind?”
“Oh, I hesitated at first, then I thought of my baby,” Wen said with a slight catch in her voice. “It would be too hard for him to grow up without a father, so I changed my mind and started the application process-in February. Then I got that call from him.”
“Did he make any further explanation in that last call?”
“No. He just said that somebody was after me.”
“Did you know who that ‘somebody’ was?”
“No, I did not. But I guess he must have had some quarrel about money with the gang. The boat people have to pay a large sum to those thugs. It’s an open secret in the village. Our neighbor Xiong failed to mail money back due to a car accident in New York, and his
wife went into hiding because she was unable to pay his debts. The gangsters got hold of her in no time. They forced her into prostitution to pay them back.”
“The Fujian police did not do anything?” Catherine asked.
“The local police wear the same pants as the Flying Axes. So I had to run far, far away. But where? I did not want to go back to Shanghai. The gang might be able to trace me there. I should not bring trouble to my people.”
“How did you decide to come to Suzhou?”
“At first I did not have any specific place in mind. While trying to pack a few things, I came across the anthology with Liu’s business card in it. There seemed to be no possibility of tracing me to him. No contact between us since high school. No one could have guessed that I would turn to him for help.”
“Yes, that made sense,” Catherine said. “The first time you saw him again was on his visit to the factory?”
“I did not even recognize him during his visit. I had not much of an impression of him in high school. He was very quiet. I did not remember him talking to me at all. Nor the loyal character dance described in the poem. But for the poem he sent me, I would not have imagined that it had meant so much to him.”
“It did.” Chen said. “You must have realized the visitor’s identity when you got the anthology.”
“Yes. All those years came rushing back. In the biographical sketch, I learned that he had become a poet and reporter. I was happy for him, but I did not have any illusions about myself. Nothing but a pathetic object for his poetic imagination, I knew. I kept the book, and his card hidden in it, as a souvenir of my lost years. I never thought about contacting him,” she said, wringing her fingers. “I would rather die than go begging to anybody but for the sake of the baby.”
“ ‘Folk east of the river,’” he murmured.
“I had never expected he would help me so much. He’s a very busy man, but he took a day off to accompany me to the hospital. He insisted on shopping for things for me, including baby clothes. And he also promised I could stay here as long as I like.”
