Turning his attention back to the laptop, Chen found himself unable to settle into the unfinished poem. The fragmented lines could be saved on the laptop, but he had no idea when he would experience another impulse to complete the whole piece.
It might not matter that much. He thought of what Shanshan had said about the irrelevance of poetry in today’s China. He pressed the save key and went off to take a shower.
After the shower, he wrapped himself in a gray robe provided by the center, lit a cigarette, and settled on to the couch before turning on the TV.
There was nothing worth watching, except perhaps a “much-awaited” football game. But Chen wasn’t a sports fan. A faint breath of cool air, barely noticeable, came wafting in from the lake. He fetched a bath towel. Chen sometimes drifted off to sleep more easily with the TV on. He didn’t want to go to bed for the night, but a nap might refresh his mind.
SIXTEEN
There came a light knock at the door.
He must have dozed off. It was an evening when most of the people in the center would be watching football on television. Rubbing his eyes, he wondered who the visitor could possibly be.
He opened the door and standing there was Shanshan. She was wearing a short-sleeved white blouse, jeans, and sandals, with a light-green satchel slung across her shoulder. She looked casual, as if she’d just come back from a leisurely walk by the lake. A few loose hairs curled down at her cheeks, giving her a vivacious look despite the suggestion of dark rings under her eyes.
“I sneaked in by taking the shortcut through the fence door you showed me the other day,” she said. “No one stopped me or asked any questions.”
The security people must be watching the football game, he realized.
“Welcome, Shanshan. But you’ve caught me by surprise. Come on in. I’m sorry that the room is in such a mess.”
“I wanted to see you when you weren’t expecting a visitor. Now we’re even.” She stepped in. Still smiling, she added in a low voice, “You mentioned the possibility of the phone being bugged. So I thought I’d better come over without calling you first.”
“Yes, we can’t be too careful, but-”
“What have you been doing this evening?”
“Oh, nothing in particular, I’ve been watching TV. But there’s nothing good on.”
Shanshan turned her head left and right, taking in the villa.
“What a place-and you have it all to yourself!”
“It’s not too bad, I daresay. Please, take a seat.”
“It’s a place for a high-ranking cadre indeed,” she said. She pulled a scarlet swivel chair over opposite the sofa, but she didn’t sit down immediately.
“You’re being sarcastic, Shanshan. Yes, staying here is a special treat. As I’ve said before, it wasn’t originally intended for me.”
She let her eyes roam around the room, and they came to rest on the empty instant dumpling bowl on the desk and the plastic wrapper crumpled into a ball next to it.
“You should have someone taking care of this place.”
“They provide room service here, but I don’t like it, especially not when I have to concentrate.”
She picked up the bowl and wrapper and threw them into the trash can under the desk, her hand inadvertently brushing the keyboard. The monitor lit up in response, displaying Chen’s unfinished lines.
“Oh, you’re writing poetry.”
“Just some fragments,” he said, then added on impulse, “They were inspired by you.”
“Come on,” she said, leaning down. “Can I take a look?”
“Of course, but the poem is unfinished and unpolished.”
She settled down to read, picking up a red pencil as though she were going to make some comments. He pushed a notepad over to her.
She didn’t write anything down. Nibbling at the top of the pencil, she read intently. He stood behind her, taking in the fragrance from her hair.
It took her a while to read through to the last line. She looked up. “It’s fantastic, Chen.”
“No, it’s only a part of it, and a rough draft. It’s completely disorganized.”
“You’ll finish the poem and publish it,” she said earnestly. “Environmental protection remains an extraneous issue to a lot of Chinese. It’s too technical for some and too impractical in this materialistic age for others. But they’ll read your poem and think about it.”
“I hope so,” he said. “Oh, I left a message on your phone this afternoon.”
“Sorry, I didn’t get it until about an hour ago. What a lousy day!”
“Tell me about it.” He took a can of Coca Cola from the refrigerator and handed it to her.
“What a day!” she repeated, staring at the can in her hand. She continued, “But once in a while you want to forget about all your worries and do things you haven’t been able to do.”
“Yes, me too,” he said, wondering what she meant by “once in a while.”
She started telling him what had happened to her today. It didn’t really surprise Chen to learn that Internal Security had made such a move. Shanshan was no longer being vague about what had happened between her and Jiang. Chen should have figured out long ago how close the two were, but people see only what they want to see. Still, he was a cop. He should have known better.
Was it possible that she came here for Jiang’s sake? Chen stopped himself from thinking along those lines.
Shanshan continued on and declared that she was concerned about Chen, giving him a detailed description of how Internal Security talked about “someone in the background” who was helping her.
So it was equally possible that she came here for his sake.
“You have to look out for yourself, Chen,” she concluded.
“Don’t worry about me,” Chen said. “I don’t think they can touch me that easily.”
“But I’m worried sick about you. All the way here, I kept looking behind me. I had to make sure I wasn’t being followed.” Visibly shaken after the encounter with Internal Security, she went on, “In your phone call, you asked me to think about unusual things going on at the company. And I’ve thought really hard. There is something I’ve been going over in my mind, but I’m not sure.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Liu’s dead. People shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”
“I understand,” he said, “but the life of another man-possibly an innocent one-is at stake.”
“Also, as a woman, I hate to speak against another woman behind her back.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Mi, the little secretary. It’s an open secret that Liu used the home office as a convenient place to have sex with her. But Mi never worked late in the company office-I’ve confirmed this with her colleagues. That night of all the nights, however, she said that she stayed late.”
“That’s a good point, Shanshan. But Mi has an alibi. Fu saw her working late that evening. They were really busy working on the IPO.”
“That seemed possible. I’ve double-checked on that, too. The office staff were busy working out a restructuring plan, something that would go into place prior to the IPO. I don’t know what the plan will involve exactly, but some employees might be let go. At least, I have been warned about it, as you might imagine.”
“This may be very important,” he said. “Can you tell me something about Mi, either in connection with the IPO or the restructuring plan?”
“She won’t get fired. Whatever the final restructuring plan, she’ll stay and get her shares when the IPO goes through. That much I’m sure of. Even someone like me, if I haven’t been fired by that time, may get a couple of hundred shares. This is nothing, of course-it’s two or three hundred shares for an ordinary employee versus two or three million shares for Liu. The number of shares will be determined by the position held. As for Mi, what Liu might have given her privately is another story.” After a short pause, she continued. “But back to that evening in question. According to what I’ve learned from the others in the office, Mi has never been involved with real business decisions. She’s nothing but a little secretary, and you know what that means.”