by Xiaolong Qiu
‘More than comparable, I bet. And if it’s a novella instead of a short story, Wenhui can serialize it. Surely a boost to our newspaper circulation.’
‘With the material gathered so far, it can be done for a novella, I think.’
‘Then it’s settled. Don’t give it to anyone else. Wenhui’s exclusively. For a novella, we’ll pay the advance. It’s a shame for a Westerner – Dutch, I think – to write bestselling books about a Chinese legend. Our timing is perfect. A couple of TV movies have been made of Judge Dee. Such a subject matter won’t have to worry about censorship.’
‘Indeed, you’re such a persuasive chief editor. I’ll think about it, and I’ll keep you informed.’ He changed the subject abruptly. ‘Now you just mentioned that I must have heard something about you of late. Is this about what happened at that private kitchen dinner party? Let me say this to you first, Kong. I’m no longer a cop. Not doing any investigations. From what I’ve learned, the case is in the hands of Internal Security, and I know better than to land myself further into the mire. But as an ex-cop, I’m just being curious.’
‘Curious about what, Director Chen?’
‘An influential Republican Lady she may have been, but why should Internal Security have rushed in and kept her shuangguied? If anything, it has served only to bring about a lot of wild speculations. Far from helpful to the political stability.’
‘You’re no outsider, whether engaged in an investigation or not. People had been paying attention to Min’s private kitchen parties for a long while, but she seemed to be untouchable. Why? Because of the men behind her.’
‘Men behind her?’
‘Because of their special relationships.’
‘Among the guests at the private dinner parties?’
‘Among the special guests. Those she entertained not just in the dining room, but in her bedroom, too. No one really knows anything for sure, and she knew better than to talk to others about it. All that I have heard is also very hazy, fragmented. Possibly nothing but hearsay. People may be just clutching at the wind and shadow, as in an ancient Chinese proverb.’
It would be useless, Chen knew, to push an experienced Party-member newspaper boss like Kong to get into the details.
‘There’s something else I happened to overhear about the case. People above seem to have been pushing in different directions. Opposite directions, I would say. Like in a poem by Xu Zhimo, “In which direction the wind is blowing, I don’t know.”’
‘Thank you for sharing the info with me, Director Chen.’
‘And there’s another puzzle for an ex-cop: Min does not have a motive for the murder. Of course, I don’t know too much about the case.’
‘We’re all shocked.’
Apparently, Kong was not too eager to talk to him about it. With his background, it was hard for Kong to guess how much Chen knew, and more importantly, how much harm could be done if he shared whatever info he had with Chen.
‘It’s developing into a huge storm on the Internet. If the investigation of such a high-profile case keeps dragging on, it can bring about a lot of negative publicity for the people concerned – even for someone like you, who just happened to be at her dinner party that night.’
‘I’m well aware of that.’
‘If you think of anything else about the case, let me know. I may be able to have a word or two through my own connections. With the real murderer caught, the storm will soon blow over. Between you and me, I don’t think Internal Security will do a real investigation on the murder case. But let me repeat, I’m not doing any investigation, so please don’t say a single word to others about it.’
This would have served as a hint to the well-seasoned editor. He was talking to him not as a cop, but he still could help in his way. Kong had better come up with some useful information.
Since they were just chatting about the possible serialization of the Judge Dee novella in the newspaper, it could also have sounded like an exchange of favors.
‘I really appreciate your offer of help, Director Chen. Of course I’ll call you if I think of anything.’
Back home around eight, Jin’s parents were watching TV in the living room. They had left a bowl of Yangzhou fried rice for her on the table in the dining room. She gestured to them to go on watching their favorite comedy.
She changed into an old T-shirt and pajama pants, put the rice into the microwave, made an instant egg drop soup, and then carried the rice and soup into her own rooms. The warmed rice smelled nice, golden-looking against the green pea, chopped pork and peeled shrimp.
She finished the fried rice without really tasting it. It was probably not too bad. She then moved into her bedroom. Closing the door after her, she seated herself at the small desk by the window.
After her talk with Chen at the café, she had thought that the afternoon would be an uneventful one, but to her surprise, phone calls from quite a number of newspapers came in, mainly about the office statement, particularly about the issues of the technicality regarding the evidence. She had to repeat again and again the point Chen had made in the statement. It had been a busy and stressful day.
The music from the TV in the living room made it difficult for her to do some quiet thinking. Outside the window came an occasional pigeon whistle trailing through the evening sky. Nowadays, it was a sound rarely heard in the city.
At the Starbucks, Chen had talked more with her about Judge Dee than anything else. He seemed to be so into the project, having visited the Shanghai Academy of Social Sciences for the purpose. It might work out, as Professor Zhong had suggested, for him to write a novella instead of a critical essay. And she might be able to help with details of historical accuracy.
But how could the ex-inspector have been preoccupied with such a literature project without being aware of the critical situation for himself?
She did not think Chen could have been so bookish at a moment like that. Or was he making the writing of the Judge Dee story a cover for something else?
He did not talk much about the Min case, but he did not try to dissuade her from doing the so-called research for the office. Like her, he’d used the word ‘research’ instead of ‘investigation’ throughout the talk.
‘I’m so glad that you are doing research into the background of the case. The way it’s developing, we may soon have to issue another office statement.’
That’s what he had said at the café before she left, she remembered.
Was he trying to make it sound like routine office work? If so, she was in a position to go on as long as she pleased.
Once again, she thought it premature for her to jump to any conclusions. The little info she had gathered about the case might not mean anything; Chen could have obtained it through his own channels, one way or another.
No more TV noise came from the living room. Her parents must have gone to bed. It was late. She remained clueless.
With a ding on her cellphone, a WeChat voice call unexpectedly came through from Chen. She was relieved that it was not a video call. Her room was in a mess.
‘A question, Jin. How did people tell the time in the Tang dynasty – especially at night?’
‘At night, the night watchman would knock a wooden knocker while patrolling around, announcing the second watch, third watch, fourth watch, fifth watch … but no sixth watch.’
‘Is that about the same length as one hour?’
‘No, actually the first watch is about seven to nine p.m., and the fifth watch is about three to five a.m.’
‘So is it OK to say, for instance, “after a couple of hours of a sleepless night, Judge Dee got up”.’
‘I think it’s OK. It’s a story for today’s reader.’
‘Thanks. Really good to know. So many things were different in the ancient China.’
‘What else is a secretary with a history major for?’
‘By the way, I had a talk with Huang Zhongluo this morning about an old book – not of the Tang dynasty, but of
the Qing dynasty – which he may help to sell in an auction.’
‘An auction?’
‘Oh, it’s left behind by my father. I should keep it, but the expense for my mother’s nursing home is getting too high.’
‘Sorry to hear that, but Huang Zhongluo, hold on. The name sounds so familiar, I must have come across it in the last few days.’
‘Possibly in your research about Min’s private kitchen dinner party. Huang did not go there that night, but he’s a regular at her parties. During our talk at the noodle restaurant, Huang happened to mention another guest named Rong, who would have hired Qing. Rong was said to be a lover rejected by Min. And coincidentally, in the Xuanji case, the Tang dynasty judge too could have been a would-be lover rejected by her.’
‘Wow!’
‘The world is weird, and more than we think. But it’s late. Time for you to go to bed. Good night.’
‘Good night, Director Chen.’
By now sleep was the furthest thing from her mind.
So he was actually writing a Judge Dee story, as he had told her. She might do some more checking into things related to the Xuanji case, as represented in the Judge Dee novel. If Director Ma chose to ask her again about the ex-inspector, she would have something more concrete to say.
That the Tang dynasty murder appealed to Chen was understandable. Things did not add up in the case. For one thing, Xuanji did not have a motive …
Could the same be said about Min?
Was that the reason that he brought up Huang out of the blue? The ex-inspector might be an eccentric man, but she did not think it could be a coincidence for him to meet with Huang regarding an auction at this juncture.
If not, it could only mean that he was probing into the Min case with a pretext. Jin picked up a pen to draw two lines in parallel on a piece of paper—
The train of her thought was interrupted, however, by a light knock on the door. Her mother was standing in the doorway, carrying a bowl of white tree ears stewed with rock sugar.
‘You’ve been so busy with your new job. Your boss has just called you?’
‘Yes, just another call about the work in the office.’
‘What kind of a man is he?’
‘An enigmatic one. I don’t think I really know that much about him. But he’s a decent man, though a workaholic too, I believe, even on convalescent leave.’
‘So he makes you work hard too.’
‘No. Not really. Just some routine paperwork.’
‘Don’t overwork yourself. The white tree ears may be a boost to your energy.’
‘Thanks, Mom. It’s late, you should go to bed. Don’t worry about me.’
The white tree ears tasted sweet. She finished the bowl in three or four large spoonfuls.
But she found it difficult to pick up her earlier train of thought again. She decided to stop cudgeling her brains out in the dark. Perhaps she would be able to think more clearly the next morning. Frustrated, she kicked off her slippers and flung herself across the bed.
With a couple of pillows propped against her head, she sent out several messages to her WeChat friends, who might have some info related to the Min case. It was such a hot topic online at the moment, and her interest in the case would not appear suspicious.
Sure enough, one of her friends named Xiaoxiao chatted back with a link to an article about Shang, the ‘number-one real estate developer’ in Shanghai, who had also attended Min’s private kitchen dinner party. Xiaoxiao added a line, saying ‘He’s a distant uncle of mine.’
Then Jin recalled one thing Chen had said to her in the WeChat call. ‘Coincidentally’ – in reference to Rong and the judge. She was a bit confused, but it was anything but ‘coincidentally’, the way he brought it up. She reflected, staring up at the time-yellowed ceiling. Could his mentioning Rong and the judge have been a cue, pointing at the direction for her to follow?
She jumped off the bed, moved barefoot to the table, and added a few words to the piece of paper.
Kong called Chen late in the evening.
‘I’ve tried hard recollecting details about the dinner party that night, Director Chen, but some of them may be totally irrelevant.’
‘Any details may turn out to be helpful, Kong.’
‘I had met the other two guests at her dining table before – Peng Jianjun and Shang Guanhua – but Zheng Keqiang was there for the first time. Peng, Shang and I were all on quite friendly terms with Min. Otherwise we would not have been invited to the shikumen house on a number of occasions. For Zheng, it was simply because Huang Zhongluo could not make it and sent his nephew there on his behalf. In fact, it was a dinner specially arranged for Huang as an apologetic gesture.’
‘An apologetic gesture for what?’
‘She has a huge network of connections. As an antique dealer, Huang makes a fortune not only by buying or selling through auctions, but by dealing in secret with those Big Bucks clients. That’s an open secret in the circle. And he secured a number of deals through her connections.
‘But of late, he was said to have suffered a sizable loss because one of her connections did not deliver. I don’t know any more details. So he had reason to be mad with her, but he still sent his nephew over there that night. To keep up appearances, I think, since they still might have business to do in the future. As for Zheng, it was a wonderful dinner for free. And then an unexpected opportunity to help the tipsy beauty to her bedroom as well. We’re too old for the job.’
Chen listened without making any interruption. He had not told Kong about his meeting with Huang that morning. The unpleasantness between Min and Huang was not exactly news to him.
‘After helping Min back to the room, did Zheng say anything to you?’
‘No, not really. We were all about to leave. He said he was going to wash his hands in the restroom because she vomited on him. And then he stepped out a couple of minutes later. I was still waiting outside for my car.’
So they confirmed each other’s alibi again. And Kong must have been the man waiting for his car, as seen by Bao around eleven that night.
‘But I recalled something else,’ Kong went on. ‘Not that night, but about half a year ago. That day, a friend of mine brought me a large box of live Yangcheng crabs from the lake. I carried the crabs to the shikumen house as a surprise for Min. When I got there, it was noon. I knocked on the door, and to my surprise, a middle-aged man in black opened the shikumen door to me. He did not look like a guest there. More like a bodyguard stationed outside in the courtyard. A stranger never seen before, he demanded I show my ID with an authoritative air, and he then said that she was still sleeping, and that I should leave. I wanted to leave the crabs in the courtyard, but he told me not to bother. So I left carrying the crabs, unable to shake off a feeling that someone was inside with her. What’s more, as I walked out of the lane, I noted another stranger in black standing at the lane exit, looking like another bodyguard.’
‘That’s really something. Possibly a number of bodyguards for someone really important staying with her inside. Hence all the security measures.’
But that too merely confirmed something he had suspected from the beginning. The mysterious client Sima could also have been working for that ‘someone really important’.
DAY THREE
Jin was stepping into the office at eight thirty in the morning, humming, when she got a text message from a WeChat friend named Yaping.
‘Just read your message from last night. Guess who else was at Min’s party that night? Kong Jie, the editor-in-chief of Wenhui Daily. I’ve learned from my cousin working in the newspaper. It’s confidential. The Party authorities made a point of withholding the names of the people attending the dinner party that night.’
With Wenhui’s number easily available on the Internet, Jin picked up the phone. Her call was transferred to Kong.
But Kong said no to her request for an interview on the grounds of his being too busy with a major conference just getting under wa
y in Beijing. Upon learning that she worked for Chen in the new office, he changed his tune.
‘Oh, you should have told me earlier, Jin. Director Chen and I talked just yesterday about a Tang dynasty story he was going to write – possibly for our newspaper.’
‘A Judge Dee story?’
‘That’s right. He is really a wonderful boss to work with, isn’t he?’ Kong then added, ‘I’ll let you know about my schedule when the conference is over.’
It was still a no, Jin knew, putting down the phone. Chen, too, had contacted Kong, which she supposed was not just for the discussion of a Judge Dee story.
She thought about modifying her approach by going to visit the other possible interviewees directly instead of making a phone call first. She was nobody, but those people at Min’s private kitchen dinner party were somebodies. They saw no point meeting with a little secretary in the midst of a sensitive case.
And to the interview list she added Rong, though he had not been at the dinner party that night. Chen had mentioned him, ‘coincidentally’, in parallel to the man rejected by Xuanji in the Tang dynasty case.
Chen was startled out of another dream by a weird screaming sound.
He remained so disoriented that it took him more than a minute to glance at the alarm clock, which showed it was already nine thirty. He had had a hard time falling asleep the previous night, and around four thirty, with the first gray light peeping through the window, he had taken two more sleeping pills.
In the glaring sunlight, he realized that the sound was coming from his cellphone buried under a pile of newspapers, still shrilling. He picked it up in a hurry.
‘Huang was killed,’ Old Hunter was practically shouting into the phone. ‘The antique collector who had been originally invited to the dinner that night, but unable to attend for some unknown reason, you remember?’
Of course he remembered. Just the previous morning, the two of them had been together at the Old Half Place, enjoying the Xiao pork noodles, and talking about the antique business – among other things.
