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Detective Lo, from the effort of such a long speech, found himself perspiring even in the chill of the Housing Commission office. He wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, folded it, and replaced it in his pocket. As he did so, the room was silent. Finally, Commissioner Wu said to Mustafa Sadiq, “Do you agree to this?”

Sadiq stroked his moustache for some time. In the end, after a long look at Detective Lo, he turned to the housing commissioner and said, “Yes. I do.”

Another week passed before Mustafa Sadiq looked up from the counter to find the round form of Detective Lo Pen-wei occupying the doorway of his shop.

“Step inside,” Sadiq finally called. “You’re blocking all the sunlight anyway.”

“I needed to make sure the shop could accommodate me,” the policeman said, pulling the door shut behind himself. “I’ve tried half a dozen times in the past week to come see you, Sadiq, but the crowds of grateful well-wishers were too thick.”

“My neighbors have been generous in their gratitude.”

“You’ve done your people a great service,” Lo said. “Why shouldn’t they acknowledge it?” He threaded his way carefully through the shop, wiping his brow with his handkerchief. When he reached the counter he folded the cloth and replaced it in his pocket, asking Sadiq, “And your daughters? They’re well, I hope?”

“They are, thank you, Detective. The eldest, Qolpan, informs me she will take the small dowry that has recently come her way and, rather than plan a wedding, will enroll in the University in Urumqi. She intends to study minerology, as her fiancé’s knowledge of the subject has proven so valuable of late.”

“Yes,” Lo agreed, “a subject of much practical use. I myself understand not a word of it, of course, but I’m just a policeman. Well, congratulations, Sadiq.”

Sadiq shrugged and reached for the kettle. Lo raised his hand. “Wait. I came to ask: Now that you’re celebrated among your neighbors, and your daughters are provided for, are you permitting yourself some moments of leisure? If so, perhaps you would care to accompany me to a teahouse, where we can sit in the shade of the grape arbor.”

Sadiq regarded him. “And where a Han policeman can shine in the reflected glory of a heroic Uighur shopkeeper?”

“I cannot deny that being seen with you, given who you have become, could be useful to me, Sadiq. In my work, you understand.”

“Well, then. I suppose under the circumstances I cannot turn this invitation down?”

“No, I don’t think you can.”

Sadiq nodded. “I see. And am I to bring the Xiangqi set?”

“You are.”

Sadiq put on his white hat and went about the business of closing the shop while Lo waited. There was little to it and they soon found themselves on the dusty streets of Turpan under the bright hot sun.

“Is the housing commissioner well?” Mustafa Sadiq asked as they walked.

“I couldn’t say. I haven’t seen the commissioner since you and I were together in his office last week. Barring, of course, the public announcement the following day.”

“You were in People’s Square?”

“It was my duty, as a guardian of the public security. Though, considering Commissioner Wu’s lack of popularity among your people, there was surprisingly little rancor in the crowd. Possibly the substance of the announcement had been rumored; the people were in a jovial mood. The commissioner spoke well of you, Sadiq.”

“Yes, I was flattered. But,” Sadiq said, “though you have not seen him, I think you have heard from him?”

“Briefly, yes.”

“He expressed his gratitude for your help in — our mutual situation?”

“He did.”

“In a tangible form?”

“It’s a custom among my people,” Lo said. “The giving of small gifts.”

They continued in silence, Sadiq acknowledging gravely the greetings of people they passed, blushing once as someone yelled, “The Hero’s hero!” and a small group burst into cheers. Even the presence of the hulking Han policeman at his side did not seem to dampen people’s enthusiasm for Mustafa Sadiq.

The teahouse Detective Lo had chosen was very popular in Turpan, situated as it was around a tiled fountain in a courtyard where a grape arbor twined overhead. The water whispered and so did the Uighurs seated all about, as the shopkeeper and the policeman chose a table. Many people smiled and nodded to Mustafa Sadiq, calling their thanks, giving the thumbs-up sign, but, possibly because of his companion, no one approached. Sadiq acknowledged their tributes, and spoke to the proprietor, who promptly brought them tea and a plate of sweet biscuits, for which he refused payment.

From the inlaid box he had carried under his arm, Sadiq lifted out the white chessboard. Lo took the wooden disks from their embroidered cloth bag and set them in their rows.

“Detective Lo,” Sadiq said, as Lo prepared the board. “Since you are a man who thinks ahead, let me ask you: What do you anticipate the reaction of the housing commissioner will be when he discovers there is no gold on my land in the mountains?”

“His land in the mountains,” Lo corrected, waiting for Sadiq, who was playing red today, to make the first move. “Well, as to that. First, I imagine he’ll be incensed at the incompetence of the Golden Chance company, as time passes and no one contacts him. He’ll find himself with an internal struggle, whether to reveal his possession of the pirated report.”

He waited while Mustafa Sadiq moved his right-rank cannon to a position in front of his general, an unconventional opening.

“And do you think he will?” Sadiq asked. He poured tea from a hammered copper pot into clear small glasses with silver handles.

“Oh, yes. He’ll finally grow impatient and make the contact himself. When Golden Chance admits to mystification as to the report’s contents, and produces the actual assay of your former land, the commissioner’s anger will know no bounds.” Lo responded to Sadiq’s move with an unusual move of his own, shifting his left-side horse also toward the center ranks.

“You will be sent for?” Sadiq asked, stroking his moustache.

“Undoubtedly.” Lo watched as Sadiq moved his right-rank horse. “My outrage will match the commissioner’s own. That the miscreants of Turpan should have the subtlety to sow forged reports among the debris in a vandalized office — this new escalation is shocking, contemptible, and a serious threat to the public security.” Lo advanced a soldier. “I’ll vow redoubled efforts to capture these criminals. Unfortunately, they left us no evidence as to their identities. However, I will reassure the commissioner that, with time, the Public Security Bureau will no doubt bring them to justice.”

“As the first to believe the fabricated report, and as the one who brought it to the commissioner, I’m afraid you’ll be left looking a bit of a fool, Detective Lo.”

Lo shrugged. “A condition I’ve grown used to.”

“And you’ll have made an enemy of the housing commissioner. Even if he harbors no suspicions, he’ll need someone to blame.” Sadiq slid his chariot along the horizontal.