That gave an insightful property developer an excuse. No longer a cemetery in use, nor a good image for the city, the land might well be used for new commercial construction. The developer bought the cemetery from the city government, planning to convert it into a golf course.
In spite of all the new science and technology of our time, people can still be superstitious. The commercial transformation of a cemetery was considered an unpardonable disturbance of the dead. Some old residents nearby were worried that the dead would rise to haunt the living. To reassure them, the developer lit tons of firecrackers and had a feng shui master write an article saying that after the disaster of the Cultural Revolution, the feng shui was restored, and with a new subway to be built nearby, “the energy of the dragon” would make the area really valuable.
Now the body in the red mandarin dress found in the cemetery has reminded people of all the superstitious stories. As an old scholar of local history argues that the red mandarin dress murder has originated from the disturbed cemetery. Several months earlier, people saw a woman in a red mandarin dress walking in the midst of the tombs at night. According to his research, there was a movie star so attired buried there, though he chose not to reveal her identity. She was terribly wronged in life, and even more terribly after death-with her body tossed out of the coffin, and her red mandarin dress stripped by a group of Red Guards. That’s why the dead appears in an old-fashioned mandarin dress.
It was a long article, and Yu didn’t have the patience to go through any more of it. It was potentially an additional headache to the bureau and the city government. As long as the case remained unsolved, wild stories would keep coming out.
But to an extent it was understandable. Even for a cop like him, the case took on something of a supernatural dimension. In spite of all the police effort, a criminal had ruthlessly murdered four young women with his elaborate “signature.” He seemed invisible as a ghost, especially at the Joy Gate, where every step involved enormous risk. His exit through the side door, for instance, where the bar girl could have moved back at any moment and seen him. And his escape in a hotel uniform, with an unconscious Hong supported in his arms, could have been easily suspected and stopped by hotel workers. Still, he pulled it off.
Yu opened another newspaper, Oriental Morning, which was very critical of the bureau. “Last night the police were at the Joy Gate-in an alleged raid against three-accompanying girls-while on the same night, another red mandarin dress victim appeared, far away, in a cemetery.”
It was perhaps only a matter of time, Yu thought, before the reporters found out the identity of the latest victim. Reading the article, Yu got a phone call from the bureau lab technician.
“About the fiber you found between the third victim’s toes,” the technician said. “The fiber is wool. Possibly from her socks. Scarlet wool socks, I think.”
“Thank you,” Yu said. That wasn’t too surprising. Peiqin, too, wore a pair of wool socks. It was a cold winter, and there was no heat at the shabby restaurant where she worked. But as he turned off the cell phone, Yu remembered something else. According to the description given by the eating girl’s neighbor, she went out that day in a dress with pantyhose and high heels. Then how come the wool socks?
“Hi, Detective Yu.”
Yu looked up to see Duan Ping, a Wenhui reporter who had once interviewed Chief Inspector Chen at the bureau.
“Have you read it?” Duan said, pointing at the Lianyi Cemetery article in the newspaper in Yu’s hand.
“It’s unbelievable.”
“It is the vicissitude of things in this world, and in the underworld too,” Duan said. “These days Chairman Mao cannot lie in peace in his crystal coffin.”
“Don’t bring Mao into your tall stories.”
“It is a tall story, like it or not. This time, this place-why? People believe it is because the root of the trouble lies here. They believe that the ghosts are out for revenge, that the murders are the retribution of the supernatural. Who else could have committed the crimes, dumped the bodies in those places, and have gotten away? It’s totally beyond me. Do you have any clue, Detective Yu?”
“That’s nothing but superstitious crap. Those atrocities happened during the Cultural Revolution. If there were really ghosts seeking revenge, they could have done so more than twenty years ago. Why the long wait?”
“Now that’s something you don’t understand. With the star of Mao still high and bright in the sky at the time, these ghosts wouldn’t have dared to come out and make trouble. But with Mao gone, it’s their turn,” Duan said. “There’s also a new interpretation, which I learned only twenty minutes ago. According to it, the red mandarin dress victims are all daughters of those Red Guards.”
So some people were taking the story to a more collective level. Instead of one unhappy woman buried in the cemetery, as maintained by that old scholar of local history, now it was all the ghosts of the disturbed cemetery, taking revenge on the daughters of their persecutors during the Cultural Revolution.
“These interpretations are totally unfounded,” Yu said.
“Let me ask you a question, Detective Yu. Does the name Wenge Hongqi mean anything to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you notice a highly unusual ad in the Shanghai Evening News? It was put there under that name. If you think about the other red mandarin dress victims-one a singing girl, the other an eating girl, the message in the ad makes sense,” Duan said. “The Red Guard group that ‘made revolution’ to the cemetery was called Wenggehongqi. The connection is obvious. These interpretations are not so unfounded.”
“It’s wild speculation and nothing but coincidence,” Yu said emphatically, though he didn’t believe in coincidence. “How did you notice that ad?”
“There is no wall that does not let wind get through. Your people checked with the Shanghai Evening News, and we share the same office building. I believe the murders are a call for attention to the atrocities in the Cultural Revolution, particularly against a woman in a red mandarin dress. Is your interest in the ad part of your investigation?”
“Come on. There were a large number of Red Guard organizations with names like that. I really have to warn you, Duan. You have to take responsibility for such wild stories.”
“That’s nonsense, Comrade Detective Yu. If the case isn’t solved, more and more stories will come out. Several colleagues of mine are coming now, I think,” Duan said, pointing to a minivan that was pulling up to the cemetery entrance. “By the way, how is it that Chief Inspector Chen is not here with you today? Please say hi to him from me.”
With more reporters swarming over, Yu knew he had to leave. Hurrying toward the cemetery exit, he called Chen’s mother.
“It’s so nice of you to call, Detective Yu, but I’m fine. You don’t have to worry,” she said, as if she had been expecting his call.
“I’ve been looking for Chen, Auntie. Do you know where he is?”
“You don’t know where he is? Oh, I am so surprised. Two or three days ago he called me, saying that he was going away for something important. Out of Shanghai, I believe. I thought he must have told you about it. What has happened?”
“No, nothing. He must have left in a hurry. Don’t worry, Auntie. He’ll contact me.”
“Call me when you hear from him,” she said, obviously concerned. She, too, apparently felt that, unless something unusual had happened, her son wouldn’t have kept Yu out of it.
“I will,” Yu said. He recalled Chen’s having seemed different of late. Too much stress, as Peiqin saw it, but Yu didn’t really think so. Who wasn’t under stress?
“Oh, White Cloud called me yesterday,” she said, murmuring as if to herself. “She said everything is fine with him.”