“When you’re there with your team, try to leave me out of the picture. It’s your investigation, not mine. ”
“But how can I do that?” Huang said, shaking his head. “They’ve already raised the question.”
“Try your best, Huang.”
TWENTY-THREE
Chief Inspector Chen woke up with a lingering hangover.
He sat up, pressing a finger to his temple as he looked out the window. The lake appeared to be still enveloped in mist. Occasionally, a lonely bird could be heard chirping among the trees.
Instead of waiting for breakfast to be delivered to his room, Chen got up and brewed himself a pot of strong black coffee. The previous day had been very hectic, he recalled as he took a slow sip at the fresh coffee.
Shortly after their parting at the bamboo groove, Huang returned to the villa with a couple of local police officers to get Mi off his hands. Instead of rushing straight to the chemical company, Huang phoned his team and had them hold Fu at the office. With Fu unable to return to his apartment, Huang searched it thoroughly even before he obtained a warrant. Huang’s surprise move really helped Chen, as Mi had been wailing, crying, and screaming there, her face streaked with tears and mucus, but not saying anything useful. Chen heaved a sigh of relief when she was lead away in handcuffs.
But his peace was short-lived. The chief inspector was soon swamped by phone calls from the Wuxi Police Bureau, Internal Security, the Wuxi city government, and the local journalists. Not all of them seeemed pleased at the surprising turn of the investigation.
There was only one thing the calls had in common. Everyone complained that Chief Inspector Chen should have contacted them earlier, despite his assurances that all he wanted was a quiet vacation in Wuxi.
Chen’s assurances didn’t sound convincing, not even to himself. After all, the arrest was made at his villa, so he felt obliged to provide some explanations here and there. And that was turning into a terrible headache.
To his surprise, Wanyi, one of the top Party cadres in Wuxi, called him at the center. Wanyi was effusive about Chen’s connection to Comrade Secretary Zhao and outlined a plan to entertain Chen in two days on behalf of the city government. Chen had to stall him by claiming to be waiting on some instructions from Comrade Secretary Zhao.
He had hardly finished speaking with Wanyi when Director Qiao burst in. His host insisted on dragging him to a celebration dinner, despite knowing little about the latest developments. Chen agreed readily, taking it as an acceptable excuse to turn off his cell phone. The people at the center had been so helpful that it was the least he could do to acknowledge it. Besides, there was nothing else for him to do. The Wuxi police took over the work, and while he was inundated with official phone calls, the one call he really wanted was the one he didn’t expect to get. Shanshan had kept her phone turned off.
It turned out to be an enjoyable meal. For once, he let himself go and behaved like a tourist-eating, drinking, and relishing the moment. He realized it was probably the tail end of his vacation here. Qiao and his colleagues vied with one another as they toasted him at the banquet. Once again, the center was in the headlines, at least locally, for which they were grateful.
As a result, it was quite late at night when he returned to his room, with unsteady steps and the unmistakable onslaught of a coming headache. There was still no message from Shanshan when he checked the phone for the last time before going to bed.
Now, suffering a terrible hangover the next morning, squinting his eyes in the glaring light, he thought there wasn’t anything he could really complain about. He reminded himself, gulping strong black coffee, that it would be another busy day. He couldn’t afford to relax and recuperate like a real high-ranking cadre.
He turned on his cell phone and checked his messages. Still nothing from Shanshan, though plenty from local cadres and several from Huang. But he decided not to return Huang’s call just yet. The sergeant was busy working on the remaining details of the case with his colleagues, and Chen, as he had said to so many, was on vacation.
He had just finished his first cup of coffee when the doorbell rang. The unexpected visitor standing in the doorway was Tian Zhonghua, a heavily built man in his early fifties with gray eyebrows and a sturdy jaw. He was the head of the Wuxi Police Bureau, and Chen had met him before at conferences.
“You should have told us about your vacation here, Chen,” Tian said, stepping in to the foyer without waiting for an invitation. “How could you have come here and investigated a case with Sergeant Huang in secret?”
“Oh no, don’t be upset with me, Superintendent Tian. Huang is a friend of Detective Yu’s. That’s why we got together. I came here on a vacation that was pushed onto me, and I had nothing to do here. So I couldn’t help talking to him about the case. The credit for bringing it to a successful conclusion is really all his.”
Huang might not have been able to take all the credit himself, so Chen decided not to say anything unnecessary.
“I understand, Chief Inspector Chen, but Internal Security doesn’t. They are certain that I was aware of your investigation all along.”
“Sorry, Tian. I apologize for that. But please tell me about the latest developments in the case.”
“We’ve arrested them. It’s only a matter of time before Fu and Mi make a full confession.”
“What about Jiang?”
“He’s been cleared of the murder charge, but the blackmail charge is going to stick-it has to. Internal Security has made a point of it. He hadn’t been officially charged in the murder case, but it was known to a lot of people that he had been taken into custody. If we let him get away scot-free, he’ll surely blab to the Western media about being persecuted because of his fight for the environment,” Tian said, then added, as if in afterthought, “Of course, he did blackmail some people, and he should be punished for it.”
“Frankly, I don’t think the statements made against him are that reliable. They were made by people looking to protect their own business interests. That should be taken into consideration.”
“As the head of the Wuxi police, I looked into it. Yes, it’s his word against theirs. However, some of them did pay him a large amount as a consulting fee. We have evidence of those payments, which he doesn’t deny. So we are justified in drawing the conclusion that these were acts of blackmail. Remember, apart from the money he got for the articles he sold to the Western media, he had no other income for several years. A monetary motive is often the most common, compelling motive.
“Besides, there’s no denying that Jiang is an inveterate troublemaker. Chinese people should be able to tell the difference between what’s appropriate to discuss with the proper insiders and what one can discuss with outsiders. But not so with him. With no real qualifications as an environmentalist, he hues and cries in an irresponsible way, all for the benefit of the Western media and for himself. What’s the point of all that muckraking? According to one American newspaper, some politicians have even mentioned him as a possible candidate for a Nobel prize. For what? The answer is self-evident, you see. This all comes at the expense of our government’s image. This will be a necessary lesson for him.”
“But the problems he exposed are nonetheless real problems that we can’t afford to ignore, Superintendent Tian.”
“We’re taking care of the problems, Comrade Chief Inspector Chen. China’s economic reform is achieving unprecedented success, but it may take some time to solve the problems that arise in its wake. Ask people here in Wuxi whether their lives have improved in the last twenty years, and I don’t think you’ll have to wait long for an answer.”