Inspector Chen and the Private Kitchen Murder

by Xiaolong Qiu

But it was not a day meant for him to read on, uninterrupted, while enjoying his convalescent leave.

  A light, tentative knocking came on the door. The delivery of the fried soup buns, he supposed, and he rose to open the door in haste.

  He was surprised to see that it was Jin, the young secretary of the Judicial System Reform Office, standing tall, slender, with her right hand raised, ready to knock on the door again.

  He knew little about her, though the two of them were supposed to be working at the same office. With Chen put on leave before the new office sign was even put up, it was Jin who had been taking care of things there from day one. He had only paid a short, symbolic visit – no more than ten minutes – to the office, where she was kept busy with a pile of paperwork like a competent secretary. They had since talked only on the phone, in a strictly business-like way, with something like a tacit understanding between the two: he might never come to work at the office, but for the moment she made a point of reporting to him dutifully, and asking for his specific instruction on a number of occasions.

  ‘Oh, it’s you, Jin.’

  ‘Sorry to come to your home without proper notice, Director Chen. I have tried to reach you several times today, but without success.’

  At the matching corner in the park, he recalled, he had taken out his ordinary phone and turned it off. Back home, he was too intent on the Min case report, and then on the Xuanji case in the Judge Dee novel. He had forgotten all about the phone.

  But why should she have made such an unannounced visit to him at home, a dutiful secretary as she was?

  ‘Come on in. There’s nothing for you to say sorry about, Jin. I was out this morning. Drinking tea and talking with an old friend. I turned off the phone and then forgot all about it. What’s up at the office?’

  ‘The city government called, insisting on an official statement made in the name of our office. Something urgent,’ she said, reading the surprise in his eyes as she seated herself opposite on a chair pulled out for her. ‘It’s supposed to come out in the government newsletter tomorrow.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About the scandal of Judge Jiao. The sex video is turning into a huge storm on the Internet.’

  He took in a deep breath. Judge Jiao scandal? He knew nothing about it. Surely too many judges for him to keep track of in one single day.

  For a statement in the name of the office, Jin could have done it by herself. Nothing but a heap of political clichés in accordance with the instruction from above, cutting and pasting from the official newspapers like People’s Daily or Wenhui Daily. How could the fall of a corrupt judge have turned out to be such a big deal?

  No one would have been bothered as to whether the statement was composed by the ex-inspector, who was known to be on convalescent leave and not well enough even to go to the office.

  ‘Really! Judge Jiao scandal. I’ve hardly heard anything about it. I’m not a chief inspector any more, you know, and I’ve been seeing doctors, reading and sleeping most of the time. But please, go ahead and tell me about it. Then we’ll discuss it.’

  He rose to pour a cup of green tea for her.

  ‘It’s a long story, but I’ll try to give you a short version,’ she said, taking a small sip at the tea, a tender green tea leaf between her lips.

  ‘It’s about the revenge of Pang Xinguo, a sensational drama like that of The Count of Monte Cristo in China. Pang was a fairly successful businessman, having started his business early in China’s economic reform. About two years ago, he started to convert an old property into a boutique hotel in the center of the city. For the project, he signed a contract with an interior designer named Ren, agreeing on a sum of two million yuan, which covered all the material and labor. He paid it there and then, as Ren said that he needed the money for all the material. At the end of the project, however, Ren charged Pang eight million more in addition to the two million. Pang refused, citing the clause in their contract: “Pang pays Ren the total sum of two million yuan for the project at the beginning of it.” So Ren sued Pang, claiming the first two million yuan as nothing but the down payment. When the ruling came down, Ren won. Judge Jiao of the District Court too read the sum paid as the down payment, which was said to be “conventional in the business”. Pang appealed, but he lost again.

  ‘Pang then found out that Judge Jiao was the First Party Secretary of the District Court – untouchable because of his position in the Party system, and what’s more, Judge Jiao was married to Ren’s cousin, and the two families were really close. With the case irrecoverably lost, Pang had to sell his other properties to pay the amount, knowing he was in no position to fight back. Definitely not in the normal way. So he decided to do it his own way.

  ‘He began shadowing Judge Jiao around in secret, like a PI. It did not take long for him to establish a pattern of Jiao’s daily routine. Despite the façade of an honorable Party-member judge, Jiao frequented a club-like hotel run by the local government in Qingpu County, with all sorts of dubious services in the hourly rooms there. It was no secret about what happened in those rooms. Of course, no police would take the trouble to check into a government-run place. As those Party officials made up only part of the business for the hotel, it was also open to other non-official customers at a higher price. For them, going there was symbolic of their social status, not to mention the fact that they did not have to worry about any police raid. So the higher price was well worth it.

  ‘Pang kept on wandering around the hotel for days before checking himself in as a customer. A doorman named Xiahou took him as just one of those Big Bucks seeking fun in the hotel, where Pang did a comprehensive reconnaissance like a pro. Then one afternoon, Pang spotted Judge Jiao and his colleagues entering the hotel, and he followed. He watched them moving into their respective rooms, each with a girl on his arm, then Pang checked himself into a room next to theirs. After waiting there for two hours, he heard Jiao and his associates emerging, talking with those girls.

  ‘Then Pang too stepped out, waving his hand at Xiahou like a satisfied customer, but after fifteen minutes or so, he hurried back, claiming he had dropped something of sentimental value in the room or somewhere along the corridor as he left in a hurry. The doorman recognized him, but once a customer had checked out, only the hotel attendant alone could go back into the room. Pang then asked for permission to take a look at the surveillance cameras at the entrance cubicle. Handing a one-hundred yuan bill as well as a cigarette to Xiahou, he said with a smile, “You have a cigarette outside, and I need just a minute or two to take a quick look at the camera.”

  ‘Xiahou pocketed the money, smoking outside, and thinking that it would do no harm for Pang to take a quick look into the camera monitors.

  ‘About three or four minutes later, Pang stepped out, carrying in his pocket a memory stick that copied the camera contents, and he said to Xiahou that he must have lost the object of sentimental value somewhere else.

  ‘One day later, a large number of pictures appeared online, those of Judge Jiao walking along the hotel corridor with a half-clad girl leaning on his shoulder, entering into the room hand in hand, and then emerging with the girl treading barefoot beside him in a bathrobe. With the pictures bearing the time and date, their meaning in sequence was unmistakable. So was the message. A corrupt Party-member judge, a disgrace to China’s judicial system.

  ‘“Human flesh search” ensued. Netizens had a wild time, like in a carnival, searching, watching, blogging, posting, commenting, and exposing Judge Jiao’s sordid secret life with more pictures and material. They seized the opportunity to vent their frustrations at the system. Initially, the city government questioned the authenticity of the pictures and warned about the consequences of the irresponsible “smearing campaign”.

  ‘But Pang came out with his real name and posted a long statement claiming that he had repeatedly tried to approach the higher authorities without success, and that he had more pictures and evidence in his possession. As a result, the
authorities abruptly changed their tune and promised to probe into Judge Jiao’s scandal.’

  She took a pause, heaving a small sigh. Apparently, she too had got a little carried away with the drama.

  ‘So our office is supposed to make a statement about it?’ he said. ‘Yes, it concerns an important part of the judicial system reform. The scandal aside, the issue of the conflict of interest for people like Judge Jiao has to be taken seriously.’

  ‘That’s a good point. Some of our judges are not qualified,’ Jin said, nodding. ‘According to one netizen, Jiao was assigned to the judicial system after having served as a Party commissar in the army, which worked like an infallible political endorsement. He had a sort of law diploma through night classes for only one month. In fact, there’re a number of senior judges like Jiao, who are in their positions simply because they are considered politically reliable for the Party authorities.’

  ‘Things may have been improving. For young judges, they are required to have law degrees.’

  ‘It may be true for the younger generation, but they are also required to pledge allegiance to the Party before law. The law tests are full of political questions—’

  ‘These shall not come into our statement, needless to say,’ he cut in. ‘Yes, there’re judges like Jiao, but as the People’s Daily always says, they are few, far from being representative in today’s China. Now we’re all for the rule of law.’

  ‘Law, like everything else, is under the leadership of the Party.’

  He looked up at her sharply. These were not the comments characteristic of a young secretary to her Party boss. Was she sent here to sound him out? She was perhaps too young for such a job, but he could not afford to let his guard down.

  Then came another knock on the door.

  He rose to open it again.

  This time, it proved to be the delivery of the fried soup buns. And it was none other than Big Zhou himself standing in the doorway, smiling an apologetic smile.

  ‘Sorry about the wait, Chief Inspector Chen,’ Big Zhou said, taking a large plastic box out of a cotton-padded wrapper, along with the small packages of ginger slices and Zhenghai vinegar. ‘Too many customers at the eatery today. But our special delivery is only for a valuable customer like you. The buns still steaming hot inside the cotton-padded wrapper.’

  That special delivery was only for someone with a chief inspector title, Chen reflected, so Big Zhou was unaware of his having been deprived of the position. Big Zhou was stealing glances at the large apartment, and at Jin, who smiled back without bothering to introduce herself.

  Chen thanked him and added a generous tip for the special delivery.

  ‘Sorry, I ordered the fried mini soup buns before your arrival,’ Chen said to Jin when the two were left alone.

  ‘Fried mini soup buns! You have to eat them hot. Once cold, the soup inside gets greasy – quite unpalatable. The special delivery does make the difference.’

  ‘Then you have to eat with me. It’s from a neighborhood eatery, but the buns are delicious.’

  ‘Well, I’m sort of on a diet, but I think I’ll have a small one,’ she said, picking one up with her fingers.

  It was still hot, and she stuffed the whole bun into her mouth lest the soup would burst out. She appeared to relish its heat on the tongue. Licking at her fingers, she then had another bun, and still another. She finished four of them, before pausing to wipe her lips with a pink paper napkin.

  ‘Sorry, I have finished half of your—’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, amused with the way she enjoyed them with such a youthful appetite. ‘I think Big Zhou has given me three portions instead of two.’

  ‘For a celebrated chief inspector, of course,’ she said, crumbling the napkin into a tiny ball. ‘Possibly four portions when he learns you’re now a director at a higher level.’

  ‘Only one portion when he learns I’m put on leave … or no special delivery at all.’

  ‘Come on. He could not help being more impressed if he knew your new title, and if you had a little secretary working for you personally at your apartment.’

  The unexpected lunch helped to animate the atmosphere between the two. The mention of a ‘little secretary’ carried a humorous echo of those spicy stories online. He did not have to be formal as he did in the office.

  He got up to grind two spoonfuls of coffee beans, put them into a French press, and poured out a cup for her and another for himself. It might not be too helpful to his stomach, but he needed it for the discussion of the statement.

  ‘The fancy coffee machine becomes the luxurious three-bedroom apartment of yours!’ she said, sipping at the coffee, looking around in curiosity. ‘And at the top section of the city, too.’

  ‘Sorry, it’s in a mess. I did not know—’

  Her glance swept around, taking stock of the living room before coming to rest on the book on the desk. ‘What are you reading, Director Chen?’

  ‘A Judge Dee novel. A very intriguing book. An incorruptible judge in ancient China, in a sharp contrast to our Judge Jiao in today’s society.’

  He picked the book up and showed it to her.

  ‘Yes, I have read a couple of them. In the Chinese translation, of course.’

  ‘Oh, what do you think?’

  ‘Judge Dee? He’s something of a high-ranking mayor or a prime minister, but not a judge like in today’s China, I think.’

  ‘You’re quite well read, Jin.’

  ‘No, not quite. It’s just because I did a history major in college.’

  He remembered having read about that in her file. How had someone with a history major come to work at a government office? It was usually considered lucky, however, for young people to have such a civil servant position with all the benefits of the one-Party system.

  ‘I think you’re right, Jin, about the confusion regarding Dee’s official position. Not a judge in the strict sense of the word, though he ruled some cases during his long official career. He’s called a judge due to the lack of any real division between the executive and the judicial in the Tang dynasty. At that time, only an official with executive power could have made a difference at the court.’

  ‘Well, is there any real division today?’

  ‘That’s a point.’ He opted for a guarded response, once again taken aback by her satirical tone. ‘That’s why we have to reform. But back to Gulik, he was an encyclopedia of sinology. He surely knew better, and I think he just made use of the historical figure in the gongan genre of classical Chinese literature.’

  ‘Yes, he was a man of great learning, he even did a book about the history of sex in ancient China,’ she said with a smile. ‘It’s fun to read a Westerner’s interpretation of the oriental sexology.’

  ‘Oh, that.’

  For a moment, he did not know how to go on. Perhaps he was too old – too old-fashioned, to say the least, sitting beside a young girl like Jin. It might be nothing for one of her generation to discuss with her boss about ‘oriental sexology’.

  ‘Now we’ve had our fried mini buns,’ he said, ‘it’s time to go on with things in the office.’

  For all he knew, the office could have been set up to make him gradually sink into oblivion, and for her watching constantly over him, whatever he chose to say or do there. But it appeared unlikely that his enemies would have needed something like a politically incorrect office statement to bring him down.

  ‘For our judicial system, people have been raising a question online: Is the Communist Party or law bigger?’ Jin said with a smile. ‘The answer is implied in the question. So here comes an editorial in the People’s Daily. “It is a false question raised with an ulterior motive to separate the two.” Indeed, whatever question the Party authorities cannot answer must be false. Period. End of discussion.’

  ‘And for our statement,’ Chen said, choosing not to dwell on the Party-or-law topic, ‘we’ll say that our Party will fight corruption wherever it occurs, whoever gets involved, in wha
tever field, whether the offender is Party-member judge or not. In the meantime, we may also add that it is not proper and right for people to take things into their own hands. We have to trust our Party, to trust our law, and our voice will be eventually heard through the proper channel under the great leadership of our Party.’

  ‘So we may as well copy paragraphs from the People’s Daily.’

  ‘But aren’t we always busy cutting and pasting?’

  Catching a subtle irony in his remark, she smiled with an amused light twinkling in her almond-shaped eyes. She looked young, smart and pretty.

  ‘Yes, I’ve just read an official article this morning about the Judge Jiao scandal, concluding with such an invariable summary, “With the storm breaking out on the Internet, we shall take into consideration the political stability for the country – in the larger picture.”’

  ‘Did the article mention any specific measure the Party government would take for people like Pang?’

  ‘No. The tone of the editorial is not that harsh, I think.’ She added reflectively, ‘They may have to make sure first what other evidence Pang could have obtained. Judge Jiao went there with a group of officials, like crabs bound together on the one and same straw rope. The surveillance cameras would not have focused on Judge Jiao alone. That’s why Pang dared to come out with his real name. When cornered, he could have done anything.’

  ‘You’re talking like a detective, Jin. In the light of your theory, his choosing not to put all the cards on the table is wise, like an insurance policy bought for oneself. Consequently, the investigation may have to move on very cautiously, with the Party’s interest before anything else.’

  ‘Exactly, Director Chen.’

  ‘Basically, our statement has to be just like the official article you mentioned. The corrupt judges have to be punished, but one tiny drop of rat poop should not be allowed to ruin a large pot of soup.’

  ‘But it’s not just one tiny drop, I’m afraid.’

  ‘At the same time, we may well point out that Pang’s end-justifying-means approach should not be encouraged.’