Inspector Chen and the Private Kitchen Murder

by Xiaolong Qiu

  ‘A necessary balance in our office statement, I got you, Director Chen.’

  ‘Another point. Any evidence obtained illegally like that will not be accepted at court in other countries. It’s an issue of technicality.’

  ‘That’s brilliant, Director Chen. I don’t think the People’s Daily has touched on the issue. And the conflict of interest, too. You surely have done a lot of research for our office, Director Chen.’

  ‘No, I’ve read some crime novels in English, in which such a point is often raised at court. Besides, I happened to have heard something about another judge.’

  ‘Another judge scandal?’

  ‘No. But have you heard of the Min case, or the so-called Republican Lady case? The judge assigned to the case happens to be one with a possible conflict of interest, like in Judge Jiao’s scandal.’

  ‘That’s intriguing. I’ve read about the Min case, but without following it closely.’ She added with a sharp focus in her eyes, ‘The suspect is well known for her gourmet dinner parties. Something like that, right? I’ll take a look into it.’

  ‘Yes, something like that, but you don’t have to go out of the way for it. I’m interested in it because I, too, am an impossible foodie. I have never visited her place. Nothing but an idiosyncratic curiosity on my part.’

  He was known as a notorious foodie in the gastronomic circle, which might work as a pretext for his interest in the case. Then he moved on with a brief account of the Min case as assigned to Judge Liu.

  ‘I’m not saying anything about Judge Liu being corrupt too, not the way some netizens are speculating,’ he said. ‘But Judge Liu could have been pissed off after staying so long on the waiting list.’

  ‘Talking with you benefits me more, Director Chen, a lot more than reading books for ten years—’

  ‘Spare me, please, Jin. Believe it or not, I was flabbergasted when you first told me about the Judge Jiao scandal. It’s because I was reading a Judge Dee novel, and earlier in the day I happened to have just heard about the Min case with another judge in the background. What a coincidence! But back to the Min case, it does not exactly concern our office. I’m on leave, and you have a lot on your hands. Don’t worry about it. Just an intriguing case, especially seen from the perspective of the judicial system reform.’

  She appeared to be skeptical, at a loss for words, bewildered by his jumping from one judge to another, before she pulled herself together, nodding. ‘As long as it is interesting,’ she said vaguely, ‘from the perspective of the judicial system reform.’

  Sometimes words could be said to lead to something else, Chen pondered, like moving a white or black piece, seemingly purposeless, in a go chess game.

  ‘This morning, I was reading the Judge Dee novel Poets and Murder,’ he went on, changing the subject again, ‘when it occurred to me that I might try my hand writing an article about it. The murderer in question was, I’ve just found out, none other than the celebrated poetess Xuanji in the Tang dynasty. I happen to have translated one of her poems into English.’

  ‘That’s a coincidence! The legendary chief inspector, and poet, critic and translator to boot,’ she said with increasing familiarity. ‘I think I’ve read an essay of yours – “Archetype of Femme Fatale in China’s Collective Unconscious”. A very original one with a sort of new historicist approach.’

  ‘Now it’s my turn to be surprised. You have read that article, detecting “a sort of new historicist approach”?’

  ‘Don’t forget my major in history, my Director Chen. But by the way, I’ve watched several Judge Dee TV movies, in addition to these books. So for your paper about Judge Dee, what can I do to help?’

  He might have said too much, though he did not think she would make a report of it to the people above.

  ‘No, it’s just my way to prepare for the new job. To know something about the past, I think, before trying to do something in the present. As for the Judge Dee TV movies, I haven’t watched any of them. Any of them well made?’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve watched enough to have a real opinion, but there’re a lot of details not historically accurate in them.’

  ‘That’s no surprise. The directors may not have a history major, and they have to attract audiences in whatever way they can,’ he said with a smile. ‘Now regarding the statement of our office, our discussion may have covered the gist of it, I think. You go ahead with it. No need for it to be too long. One page should be enough. If there’s any new development, we can issue another statement.’

  ‘Yes, I’ll keep you posted, Director Chen. And I’ll include your point about the issue of technicality.’

  ‘That’s fine with me. But why?’

  ‘That’s a point not mentioned by others. The statement of our office under you should be different. You may receive the first draft from me this evening – Oh, do you have WeChat?’

  ‘I’ve heard of it,’ he said, surprised by the sudden change of subject on her part. ‘I’m just too old to follow the latest technology trend, I’m afraid.’

  ‘But it’s so convenient. Especially for things like the lecherous judge with a naked girl in the club – you can find so much, and so quickly, on WeChat. Some posts may be blocked ten minutes later, but in another ten minutes new posts will pop up. Besides, it may also be easier to get hold of you for things in the office.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, it’s so easy to use. Give me your cellphone. Let me download the app for you.’

  ‘But people spend hours and hours on it, I’ve heard,’ he said, giving out his phone.

  ‘Not if you don’t have many friends. Just for your own circle. If you prefer, you may use it just to contact me. It’s so user-friendly.’

  He was not so sure about it, but it might be convenient to get messages from her if she proved to be his one and only contact on WeChat.

  After installing it on his phone, she rose to leave, saying she had to work on the statement.

  ‘Thanks for the fried soup buns, Director Chen. They were delicious.’

  He walked her out of the door, and watched her stepping – almost scampering – into the elevator in her white tennis shoes.

  The evening was spreading out like a man lying in bed on his convalescent leave.

  For an unannounced visit, Jin’s turned out to be quite a long one, particularly from a young secretary to her boss at his apartment. It was about office business, but was nonetheless a pleasant, scintillating talk between the two.

  It was ironic, Jin contemplated, that Chen appeared to be more of an intellectual than a police inspector, the way he talked – not like a Party-member boss mouthing politically correct words all the time.

  Nor did he look like a middle-aged man with any health issues, but it was little wonder, considering the theories she had heard about the real reason why he had been put on convalescent leave.

  That he had not really been relaxing on leave did not surprise her, either. Perhaps nothing could be too surprising as far as the ex-inspector was concerned; someone had told her about him, adding that ‘the impossible chief inspector is an enigma’.

  Unexpectedly, she then caught herself thinking about things quite irrelevant.

  What was he having for dinner tonight?

  Possibly another portion of fried mini buns. While the taste was not bad from a street corner eatery, such an oily snack might not be helpful to his recovery. And his choice contradicted the gossips who said he was an impossible gourmet.

  Whatever stories she had heard about him, he was not like any of those Party officials she had met before. His comments about the Judge Jiao scandal made sense. The office statement could not but be something in line with the expectation of the higher authorities, and anything other would be counter-productive. He’d sounded cynical, and it was not easy for someone in his position to be cynical.

  She thought she was not displeased at the prospect of working with him if he was coming back to the office after the convalescent leave.<
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  And she began wondering what more she was supposed to do as a secretary for him. She went over in her mind what he had just said to her, trying to find some clues like a competent assistant to an inspector in an investigation.

  With his talk jumping from one case to another, from one judge to another, she had been left more or less confused, but among other things, it could be interesting to put the cases side by side, ‘especially seen from the perspective of the judicial system reform’. That’s what he had said about the Min case toward the end of the talk, she remembered.

  The streets followed in the dusk like an argument, but she chose to ignore it.

  Chen found it hard to concentrate on the Judge Jiao scandal Jin had told him about. Not because it was not a case for him or because he was no longer a chief inspector.

  Party-member judges like Jiao were anything but independent of the one-Party system. It was just because of a stroke of bad luck that Jiao had been caught on the surveillance camera, and crushed in a ‘human flesh search’. Many more like Jiao were still out there, ruling as the judges politically reliable to the Party authorities.

  Still, he sat down in front of the computer, searching for news about the ongoing scandal. An incredibly large number of netizens appeared so indignant, showing solidarity with Pang, and slamming the ‘judicial system under the leadership of the great and glorious Party’. The mayor promised to fire Jiao from the position. So the request for the office statement under Chen’s name was part of the show needed for the moment.

  As for the statement, what else could he have said to Jin? For that matter, he might have already said more than he should. Jin was a vivacious young girl full of spirit, but he believed she knew what to say in an official statement, the draft of which he was going to read and approve this evening.

  But what he had said to her – on the spur of the moment – about the similarities among the judges kept coming back to his own mind.

  Then thoughts about something else took over. The similarities between the two cases – the Min case and the Xuanji case – seized him again.

  This time, he moved to put Poets and Murder side by side with the folder about the Min case. For whatever did not make sense in either of them, he marked with question marks in a notebook. In a strange way, police investigation seemed to work like deconstruction in post-modern literary criticism, focusing on the inexplicable. For both, it was imperative to find the clues and give interpretations, and with the evidence gathered to support the interpretations came the conclusion.

  But the effort soon turned out to be too exhausting for him. So he used the French press for another cup of extra strong coffee. Immediately, he was beginning to feel uncomfortable in the stomach, but his cellphone dinged unexpectedly, with a different tone.

  It was Jin contacting him on WeChat – with a profile picture of hers possibly taken in her college years, wearing a long queue, thread-bare jeans and flip flops. The message contained a Word document, a first draft of the office statement.

  Jin had done her job fast. The statement covered all the talking points with a historical perspective. She did not forget to include the point about the ambiguous circumstances in which the evidence was obtained. So it showed at least one difference from the editorial of the People’s Daily.

  There was a short note at the end of it: ‘Draft of the drafts. I’ll send you the first real draft later, but let me know if you want to add anything.’

  He did not think he wanted to add anything. Few would pay any serious attention to such an official statement of political correctness.

  With the phone still in his hand, it rang again. Still from Jin, this time the screen showed several links to TV movies of Judge Dee investigations.

  ‘Enjoy them. A master may really appreciate another master.’

  He tapped on one of the links, Early Adventures of Judge Dee, and started downloading it. The picture quality was excellent, and he could not resist the temptation in spite of the small phone screen. It took only five or six minutes, however, for him to realize that the episode, while entertaining, had nothing to do with Gulik’s work.

  To his shock, in the cover image of another video, he saw Judge Dee standing in a wooden pillory cart with his hands and feet in chains, and a naked young woman in another cart following Dee’s, with a phoenix-shaped headdress fallen at her bleeding bare feet, and a high bamboo sticker stuck behind her neck indicating her as one soon to be beheaded on the execution ground. It was devastatingly humiliating to be paraded like that in public, not just for the woman, but for Dee too. It was perhaps just another commercially-oriented TV movie made for the market, and he was in no mood to watch it. None of the TV movies would have had anything to do with Gulik’s novels, let alone Poets and Murder.

  In the socialism with China’s characteristics, more and more people were becoming interested in the dramas focusing on the conspiracies at the court, such as the power struggle between the Empress of the Wu family and the Li family. The phoenix headdress at the feet of the naked woman seemed suggestive of her previous status as an imperial concubine, though Chen failed to recall anything like that in the period of the Tang dynasty. Nevertheless, it appealed to the audience.

  He felt really coffee-sick.

  The phone rang again. It was Lu this time.

  ‘I’ve made several phone calls for you. And I got in touch with someone named Huang Zhongluo, a wealthy antique collector. Number one in Shanghai.’

  ‘You know Huang?’

  That came as a real surprise to Chen. Huang, the number-one antique collector, whose info he had just read in the list sent over by Old Hunter.

  ‘Yes, he’s been to my Moscow Suburb a couple of times, but I cannot say he likes Russian cuisine that much. Too oriental-fashioned.’ Lu added in afterthought, ‘By the way, he’s a regular at Min’s private kitchen dinners. He invited you to breakfast at Old Half Place tomorrow morning.’

  Lu had not only contacted one of the regular guests at Min’s dining table, but also arranged a meeting for them. Huang, though not at Min’s dining table that night, had been on the original invitation list.

  ‘But I don’t know him.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. I told him you want to consult him about something in the antique business. He has heard a lot about you, and about your gastronomic passion, too. He agreed at once, saying it’s an honor to meet with you. In a private room on the second floor of the restaurant. Around six thirty.’

  ‘So early!’

  ‘The water poured into the pot early in the morning is clear, with no residues from repeated noodle-boiling, and that will make a huge difference for the noodles. At least that’s Huang’s philosophy. So don’t be late.’

  ‘No, I won’t. Thank you, Overseas Chinese Lu.’

  It was a nickname he had been calling Lu since their middle school years during the Cultural Revolution.

  Chen began wondering what he could possibly talk to Huang about the antique business. Of late, there were multiple Chinese TV programs about antique hunting and appraising. Apparently, it was a huge market.

  But the train of his thought was derailed by another unexpected call through the special cellphone.

  It was Ling, his ex-girlfriend, nowadays somebody else’s ex-wife.

  They had kept in touch through these years, albeit not that regularly. Like in an ancient Chinese fable about two fish in the sea, an immense distance between them, each too busy swimming and struggling against the tides, but aware of the other still being out there under the same sun, and occasionally reminiscent of the moments of their once being together.

  He had made a point of giving her his latest special cell-phone number with a short text message without any elaboration. She understood, and she was calling him now – probably for a special reason.

  ‘Long time and no speak, Ling. I was afraid you too had forgotten about me,’ he said, trying to put a light touch of self-satire into the talk.

  ‘How could peop
le have ever forgotten about you? You are unforgettable after the investigation into Lai, one of the most prominent Red Princes.’

  It was just like Ling, who came directly to the point. That Chen had ruffled high feathers was no news to her, but her making the phone call to him about it meant serious trouble for him. Her mentioning the Red Prince came as another unmistakably ominous signal.

  The powerful Lai had fallen, but the group of Red Princes advanced to the top in the Forbidden City. While the downfall of Lai could have removed a competitor to the one sitting on the throne, the murderous details of the case had proved to be disastrous to the Party image.

  ‘What’s up, Ling?’ he asked, noting for the first time the long, unfamiliar number on the phone screen. ‘Are you calling from London?’

  She had an office as well as an apartment in London, where she ran some sort of export and import business through her family connections, about which he knew nothing except that it was hugely profitable. She stayed for most of the time in Beijing, though.

  ‘Yes, in London. Can you talk now?’

  ‘Sure, I’m home alone.’

  ‘I’ve heard about your new office position, and about your convalescent leave, too. I’m so worried for you.’

  ‘I’m fine. No need to worry about me,’ he said. ‘It’s just like a vacation. It may actually do me a lot of good.’

  ‘You don’t have to say that to me, Chen. Some people at the top have gathered enough files about you to fill a whole cabinet. About your investigation of the Red Prince, in particular. A too humiliating blow to the great, glorious façade of the Beijing government.’ She then added in a hurry, ‘Have you recently talked to someone surnamed Yao, a law professor in Shanghai?’

  ‘A law professor in Shanghai?’ he repeated mechanically before he recollected anything. ‘Yes, Professor Yao, a law professor of the Shanghai Academy of Social Sciences. But it was nothing but a congratulatory phone call from him about my new position.’

  ‘It was tapped.’

  He took in a deep breath. Professor Yao had long been on a blacklist for his criticism of China’s judicial system, known for his blog posts on several influential web forums. As for that phone call, what the two had talked about that day, he failed to recall any details. Yao could have said something about the problems under the one-Party authoritarian system, and about his expectations for Chen in the Judicial System Reform Office.