Don't Cry Tai Lake Read online

  Again Chen thought back to the ominous phone calls she’d been receiving. But could the pressure, no matter how unbearable, been enough to drive a young, spirited girl like Shanshan to murder?

  “You have to help her, Mr. Chen. She’s a nice girl. She thinks so highly of you too.”

  Apparently, Uncle Wang had read too much into the thing between them. But had she said something about him to Uncle Wang after they parted at the ferry?

  Other than the pressure at work, however, the old man was unable to tell him anything new or helpful. So what was Chief Inspector Chen going to do?

  Under normal circumstances, he could try to contact the local police, who might have no objection, though an understandable reluctance, to his looking into the case. Wuxi being so close to Shanghai, there might be occasion for them to help each other, and Chen’s own rising status as one trusted in Beijing might be useful to the Wuxi police.

  With Internal Security lurking in the background, however, it could be a different story.

  He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Sergeant Huang.

  “I need to talk to you, Huang.”

  “Oh yes, Chief. Where?”

  “Well,” he said, aware that Uncle Wang was watching him closely. It wouldn’t do to talk in the presence of the old man. Looking up, he saw a barbershop across the road, one sporting a conventional pole with a helix of red, blue, and white stripes spinning. “Come to a barbershop on Wuyou Road, south of the Bus 1 terminal. I’ll meet you there.”

  He took his leave of Uncle Wang and walked across to the barbershop, which had the refined name of WuYu Hair Salon.

  A young girl in a backless slip came trotting out, “Welcome, boss. My name is Green Jade.”

  It was a mistake, he realized immediately, seeing her nipples imprinted on the thin material as she took his hand and practically dragged him in. A large number of so-called hair salons nowadays were simply a cover for sexual services. Having seen many of them in Shanghai, he should have known better

  He saw several other girls in the salon. One of them wore a red silk dudo bodice embroidered with a pair of mandarin ducks, and another simply had nothing on but a black lacy bra. They all looked at him curiously. He didn’t look like a regular customer at such a place, he guessed.

  Green Jade led him to an inner room dimly lit with a solitary fluorescent light and started running down the available services the moment he sunk down into a leather recliner. “We provide all kinds of services, boss. Thai-style massage, foot washing, Japanese-style massage, oil back rubbing, oil body rubbing, hair washing … Whatever you want, you just name it.”

  “I just want to have my hair cut.”

  “No, we don’t cut hair, we only wash hair. Leisurely hair wash, luxurious, luscious. It’ll bring a relaxation to your every nerve, I guarantee it.”

  “Go ahead,” he said resignedly. It was too late for him to back out. Huang must already be on his way.

  The leather recliner designed for hair washing allowed him to practically lie on his back, with his head reaching out under the water. Green Jade spared no time applying shampoo to his hair, rubbing and massaging his scalp, pressing his temples with her fingers. She might have had some profession training, he mused as she stood, bending over him, her breasts almost bouncing out of her slip.

  In the fluorescent light he noticed there was a deep-red rash on her bare arms and shoulders.

  “Oh, you’re having allergy attack, are you?” he exclaimed with an involuntary shudder.

  “Don’t worry. Many people are having the same problem here. For some, it’s much worse. It’s all because of the lake water, you know. There is so much industrial waste being dumped into it.”

  It was further confirmation of the disastrous pollution problem, for which people were paying a terrible price.

  “Let me rub your shoulders too, boss. They’re so tense. You must have worked hard. Relax,” she said, her hands beginning to work on him.

  Before he could say anything, however, her fingers began brushing his groin.

  “Let me rub your little brother too.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ll really enjoy it, and you can take pity on me at the same time. For washing your hair, I make only ten yuan, but for rubbing your little brother, I make sixty.”

  He was going to protest as her hand started reaching for his belt, when Huang burst into the room. Without seeing Chen, whose hair was covered in lather and whose face was partially obscured by a towel, Huang started shouting for him.

  “Chief Inspector Chen!”

  The salon was thrown into consternation and all the girls were flabbergasted. Green Jade was transfixed at the sight of Huang in his police uniform, raising her two hands high as if in surrender.

  “I’m here. Don’t worry, Sergeant Huang,” Chen said, rubbing his hair with a towel. “Let’s leave.”

  He paid in accordance to the price listed on the menu on the wall. Green Jade kept thanking him, her face flushed, her hair disheveled. It was not as expensive as he had anticipated, but then perhaps the price charged was due to the presence of Sergeant Huang.

  As they left the salon, Chen saw that Huang had come in a local police car.

  Uncle Wang was serving a customer at an outside table, and there was no other place outside for them to sit and talk, so Chen followed Huang into the car and lost no time in asking about Shanshan.

  “Your people have detained Shanshan, haven’t you?”

  “You’re right on top of the latest developments, Chief,” Huang said, offering him a cigarette. “There’s a new focus in the investigation—on the people who had a grudge against Liu. She’s been detained because of her arguments with Liu. According to Mi, Liu had said something about firing her. So Shanshan has a possible motive. She was also heard threatening Liu about a week or so before his death in his office—saying that he would pay a terrible price. At least a couple of people in the company heard it.”

  “I have reason to believe she was arguing with Liu about work, and she was warning him about the consequences of the industrial pollution. I strongly suspect she made no threat to Liu personally. So, who heard her make the threat?”

  “Mi, and Zhou Qiang, the sales manager, who called her a bitchy busybody. It is true that some people in the company don’t like her.”

  “What about her alibi?”

  “She doesn’t have one. She said she was alone in her dorm room that evening, watching TV and reading, and she then went to bed around ten.”

  “Most of the people in the dorm would have given you a similar answer. A considerable number of them are single, and Wuxi is not a city with a lot of entertainment at night.”

  “Wuxi is not Shanghai, I know,” Huang said. “But the murderer is someone who was not a stranger to Liu. As we suspected from the very beginning, it’s someone who knew where Liu was spending the night.”

  “But others in the company also know about Liu’s home office. It’s no secret. As you mentioned yesterday, Mi, the secretary, knew Liu’s whereabouts better than anybody else. And Mrs. Liu too.”

  “That’s true.”

  “It would make more sense for Liu to have told the people close to him about his plans for the night. With the rancor between Shanshan and Liu, how could she have possibly known where he would be?”

  “How—I don’t have an answer to that.”

  “Besides, with the problems between the two, it’s beyond me why Liu would have let her in, and then let her strike a fatal blow without struggling—even if she had paid him an unexpected visit that evening.” Chen paused before going on, “No, I don’t think she should be detained without any evidence or witnesses.”

  “I see your point, Chief. As your friend, she may have told you things we don’t know.”

  “Whether she’s my friend or not makes no difference. In fact, as I told you, I met her just two days ago,” he said, wondering whether Huang would take his word for it. “As cops, we have t
o tell ourselves what we can do, and what we can’t.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. You’re a man of principle. I would not have detained her, but I’m the youngest one on the team; they wouldn’t listen to me. Not to mention that Internal Security is in the background, and they backed the decision.”

  That was probably true, Chen thought, but he still hoped Huang would try to get her released. “There is something strange about this case, Huang. To begin with, the timing of the murder. It happened just as the IPO for the company is coming up, and in the midst of the persisting controversy about its dumping of industrial waste,” Chen said deliberately. “I’m stuck here on a vacation that has been pushed on me, as I’ve told you, and I really have nothing to do at the center. I think we can look into this case together—you and I.”

  “You mean we can work on a case together? That would be absolutely fantastic, Chief Inspector Chen—to investigate under your supervision. I’ve dreamed of it for a long, long time.”

  “No, it’s not my case. Nor is it the time for me to make a move out in the open. I’m not a cop while I’m in Wuxi. We have to make sure of that.” Chen added, with touch of self-irony, “I know you like Sherlock Holmes stories. Remember how he occasionally stays in the background and lets the police do the job?”

  “Yes, he does that in several stories, Chief Inspector Chen.”

  “None of your colleagues should know about my working with you.”

  “Whatever you prefer.”

  “But for me to work on a case, whether in the background or in the foreground, there are things I do, and things I don’t do.”

  “I understand.”

  “For one thing, I don’t want to crack a case by detaining and interrogating people without justification.”

  “You mean—” Huang left the sentence unfinished with an edge of hesitation in his voice.

  Chen knew why the young cop was hesitant, so he decided to give him another push.

  “Honestly, I was surprised when I was told to come here on a vacation I don’t need. But Comrade Secretary Zhao must have his reasons.”

  It was no more than the truth, but to the young cop, it hinted that Chen had been sent here for something highly confidential; something Chen himself had wondered about.

  “I happened to know Shanshan,” Chen went on after a dramatic pause, “because of something said by Comrade Secretary Zhao. He read an article by her—something about environmental protection. So he wanted me to do some research on new problems in China’s economic reform,” Chen said. He thought it wasn’t too much of a fabrication. “I’m about to write a report on sustainable economic development, development that is not at the expense of the environment. It’s not at all my field, but I couldn’t say no to him.”

  “No wonder you came to know her so quickly,” Huang said with an awestruck look on his face. “I really appreciate your trust in me, Chief Inspector Chen. I understand it’s highly confidential. I’ll do my best.”

  “Give me what additional information you may have about the case. In particular, has the final autopsy report come out yet?”

  “Yes, I’ll get you a copy too.”

  “Don’t mention Zhao or me to anybody,” Chen added in a hurry, reaching for the car door handle. “It’s a very delicate situation, but you’re capable of judging how to deal with it.”

  “Sure, I’ll follow your instructions.”

  “Then we’ll get to work, Sergeant Huang,” he said. “I’ll discuss the first step we’re going to take soon, but in the meantime, I’m going to write a report about it for Beijing.”

  SIX

  ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, CHEN called Shanshan.

  “I tried to get hold of you yesterday, Shanshan. I called you several times, but without success.”

  “Something happened at the company. It turned out to be a false alarm,” she said. “But they didn’t let me go until the evening.”

  “What!” he said, acting surprised.

  Sergeant Huang had informed him that she’d been released the previous evening. How Huang had managed it, Chen didn’t ask, but Huang mentioned that Internal Security had shifted its attention to somebody surnamed Jiang, who had been feuding with Liu. In other words, Jiang was a more likely suspect. Still, Chen had become increasingly interested in the case, whether or not Shanshan was out of the woods.

  For one thing, Internal Security wouldn’t have intervened in a simple homicide case, even though Liu was an important man in Wuxi.

  “I’m glad that it was nothing but a false alarm. But I think you need to take a break, Shanshan.”

  “What is false or not false, I don’t know. And I am taking the day off.”

  “That’s good,” he went on. “How about an excursion around the lake today?”

  “We walked along the lake the day before yesterday, didn’t we, Mr. Chen?”

  “Well, had we but world enough, and time—”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Just a line from a poem by Andrew Marvell,” he said. “My vacation here is only for a week or so, you know. Since you’ve taken the day off, why not?”

  “You’re really persuasive.”

  “Good. We’ll do something to relieve shock.”

  “Relieve shock?”

  “Something fun, so your mind won’t dwell on the unpleasant experience. Tell you what: I haven’t yet taken a boat trip here. So let us go, you and I, drifting in a gondola.”

  “What a poetic tourist.” But she then said, unexpectedly, “Where shall we meet?”

  “How about under the bronze turtle statue in the park? I’ll be waiting for you there.”

  Soon, he found himself standing under the bronze turtle statue, leaning against the gnarled back of an old tree trunk. It was such a scenic park. The sun hung above the tilted eaves of an ancient lakeside pavilion, gilding the water with its reflections. A line of white ducks patrolled the bank nearby. He felt he could spend the day there—in her company.

  His gaze shifted toward the dock, which was as crowded and noisy as the day before. A large boat was chugging out. A young couple leaned against the white rail on the top deck, sharing one ice cream cone, beaming blissfully, as if nibbling at the world in their hands.

  He then saw Shanshan coming through a gourd-shaped stone gate, tripping across the meadow dappled in the shadow of a boxwood tree, and carrying a nylon string bag of bottled water. She was dressed for the occasion, wearing a lightweight maroon trench coat over a white strapless dress and white high heels.

  She was dressed for his company, he observed. Confucius says, A woman makes herself beautiful for the man who appreciates her. It wasn’t necessarily antifeminist, depending on the viewer’s perspective.

  “It can be windy on the lake,” she said, explaining her trench coat. Her smile was radiant. She shook hands with him, and her fingers felt wonderfully soft.

  Across the lake, a water bird took flight, swirling and soaring away into the distance. They started walking along the lake. It took them quite a while to find a boat they liked. Most tourists preferred the large, comfortable, modern-looking passenger ships or power boats, which were less expensive, costing only about ten yuan per person. But Chen had something different in mind.

  They finally settled on a mid-sized sampan with a tung-oiled canvas awning, under which there were a couple of settees covered with indigo homespun, and a small bamboo table in between. It wasn’t quite as antique-looking as he’d hoped, but it was cozy.

  There was cabin room for four, but there wasn’t another customer waiting at the moment. Chen offered to hire the sampan for the two of them and pay the difference. The sampan man agreed readily. He was a jolly one, in his fifties, with a weather-beaten face as rugged as in an oil painting, yet with a shrewd light in his eyes. He pulled out, standing on the stern and speaking with a loud voice:

  “You’re a lucky man, sir, with such a beautiful girlfriend sitting beside you. Indeed, a romantic spring day in the same boat with
her is worth every penny you’re paying.”

  Chen smiled without commenting. He seated himself opposite Shanshan. She looked at him, her hands on the table. Her eye glinted with something hard to identify, yet appealingly enigmatic. In classical Chinese literature, there was a stock phrase describing “autumn waves” rippling in a beauty’s eye. She was still so young that the waves in her eyes were spring rather than autumn. There was a red paper cutting stuck to the cabin wall behind her, he noted. The cutting, though slightly torn, was a recognizable pattern of fish and flower, symbolic of passionate love and fruitful marriage.

  The sampan moved further out, swinging a little from time to time, riding in a channel marked on both sides by poles stuck upright in the water.

  She took off her trench coat, her white shoulders flashing against the somber background. Picking up a cup from the table, she poured some water from the bottle she carried with her.

  “You’re so careful.”

  “You can’t be too careful these days.”

  “That sounds like a line I read long ago.”

  “Again? You’re so into poetry,” she said with a teasing smile that illuminated her vivacious face. “Are you always such an impossible romantic as a tourist?”

  “I don’t know, but as a tourist, I’ve always wanted to spend a day on the lake,” he acknowledged. “And there’s a more pressing reason, of course—I wanted to be with you.”

  His words just now sounded like an echo of something he’d read long ago, though it could have been prose and not a poem. He found it easy to slip into the role she’d assigned him.

  “Shall we go to the Three Celestial Islets?” the sampan man said. “With all the Taoist temples, pavilions, pagodas, jade and crystal towers there, it is filled with really heavenly scenes.”

  “The Three Celestial Islets is a tourist attraction next to the park,” she said. “According to one interpretation, the islets look like a turtle from across the water. It’s always packed with tourists.”