The few other underlined sections were largely about politics. There was one long paragraph about the head of the cadre school, another about the worker propaganda team. Yu could imagine how some people might feel uncomfortable about this book. It would be easy for them to believe that the characters in the book were based on themselves.
He did not know why Peiqin wanted him to read those parts. And he was not able to read for long. He was rung up by Party Secretary Li, who had traced him to the neighborhood committee office. This phone call had been provoked by a fairly long article in the latest issue of a popular magazine, published under the pretext of commemorating Yin’s death, but actually more about the death of Yang. It also contained several long quotes from Death of a Chinese Professor. One was a statement, made at the professor’s deathbed, toward the end of the noveclass="underline" “From this moment on, she would live for him, and die for him too.”
That was a subtle insinuation that Yin’s death might be politically complicated.
The magazine had sold out immediately, which served as yet another reminder of the mounting popular interest in this murder case. Such interest was far from pleasant to the Party authorities.
“The case has to be solved as quickly as possible,” Party Secretary Li declared once again.
In a non-political case, it might not matter much if the investigation took a few weeks longer. Some of them remained dormant, with no clues and no solution in sight, for many months, or longer, sometimes forever. But this particular case needed a quick resolution. As a member of the special case squad, Detective Yu was not unfamiliar with the usual arguments.
“If unsolved, the case may keep on feeding wild speculation,” Li continued sternly, “and that will bring too much pressure to bear on the city government, and the bureau too.”
“I understand, Comrade Party Secretary Li,” Detective Yu said. “I will do my best.”
“What is Chief Inspector Chen up to? It’s hard to understand. He insists on taking his vacation in spite of the urgency of solving this important case. And I don’t know how long his vacation will last.”
“Nor do I,” Yu said, knowing that Chen had not told the Party boss about his translation project. But he did not like the implication-whether Party Secretary Li really meant it or not-that he would not be able to handle a “special case” without Chief Inspector Chen supervising him.
In the special case squad, the spotlight usually was on Chen, and the credit went to him too. It was little wonder since Chen was an emerging Party cadre with connections stretching as far as Beijing. It was plain that he was being groomed to succeed Party Secretary Li and it would be good for the bureau to have a party secretary who actually knew something about policework, even if he had not been trained for it. And to be fair, Chen did a good job. It did not matter to Yu how much credit he personally received for an investigation he conducted together with Chen. It was all the work of their special case squad. Yu had not complained about staying in Chen’s shadow. Not too many bosses like Chen were left in the police force. Yu sometimes considered himself lucky to be Chen’s partner. Nevertheless, this did not mean that only Chief Inspector Chen was up to the job.
Yu did not care much what others might think, or say, behind his back, but he could not help feeling upset when his colleagues, and now Party Secretary Li, brought the issue up to his face, as if the special case squad was nothing but Chen, as if Yu deserved no recognition.
Even Peiqin had once mentioned something to that effect, he remembered.
What Party Secretary Li said hurt him, Yu realized somberly. It was as if the earth stopped moving with the absence of Chief Inspector Chen.
But what else could Chen possibly have done if he had been involved with the investigation? In fact, Yu and Chen had discussed every aspect of the case.
“Don’t worry, Party Secretary Li. I’ll take care of it,” Yu said. “The case will be solved shortly.”
“I have given my junlingzhuang to the city government, Comrade Detective Yu.” Junlingzhuang was a pledge an ancient Chinese general gave: something would be done or he would be removed from his position.
“Then I give mine to you, Party Secretary Li.”
Afterward, Yu regretted his impulsive response. Perhaps something had been going on in his subconscious for a long time. Perhaps it was the time for him to think about a career change. For him, the case of Yin Lige was taking on a new dimension. It was no longer simply that he was determined to solve it all on his own, with Chief Inspector Chen on leave. It was also an investigation that might testify to the meaning of his profession, his career. He had believed that, even though only a bottom-level cop, he could make a meaningful difference to society. In addition, his was a meaningful task because it was significant to Peiqin, as Yang’s writing had meant such a lot to her.
The political aspect of this investigation was not his concern. If anything, it only highlighted the fact that nothing was free from politics in China, a fact he had known for a long time. The problem was how to make a breakthrough at the shikumen house. Instead of continuing the interviews of the shikumen residents, he decided to review his strategy with Old Liang first.
They had concentrated on the possibility that someone who lived in the building had killed Yin. They seemed to have excluded the possibility that an outsider had committed the crime because no stranger had been seen entering or exiting, either through the front or the back door. But what about the possibility of a cover-up? What if one witness, or more than one, was not telling the truth?
A problem immediately presented itself. There were three people in the courtyard who came from three different families. While the neighbors’ relationships-with the exception of those with Yin-might have been as wonderful as Old Liang declared, it was hard to imagine that three different families were involved in a conspiracy to commit or cover up a murder. That someone had left through the front door was therefore practically impossible. As for the back door, the shrimp woman was positive about her statement: she had never budged. But was she telling the truth?
While Detective Yu made this analysis, Old Liang clung to his insider theory.
“You should keep interviewing the shikumen residents,” Old Liang maintained. “If you want me to participate in the interviews here with you, that’s fine, but I think it’s worthwhile for me to continue making background checks.”
“Your background checks are important, but we really need to speed it up. There are more than fifteen families in the building. Party Secretary Li is pushing me for results.”
“So we are running out of time.”
“We have to be more selective in choosing our interviewees. Let’s take a look at the next name on the list.”
Lei Xueguang was the fifth suspect listed.
“Oh, that Lei! Believe it or not, Yin helped him, in her way,” Old Liang began, in a most dramatic tone that reminded Yu of his father, Old Hunter. “But you know what they say, No good deed goes unpunished.”