The quality of a book could vary in different parts, she understood, but surely this extreme variance in Death of a Chinese Professor was abnormal.
She was unable to shake off a feeling that someone other than Yin must have written this book. Peiqin then laughed at herself, shaking her head at her own reflection in a small, slightly cracked mirror on the desk.
When she looked up from the book again, it was almost two o’clock. She rose and paced about in the room. It was all right for her to do so, but the manager had to walk carefully, with his head bent, in this low-ceilinged office. She called to make sure that Hua would not return that day. Then she locked the door before picking up the telephone again to call Chief Inspector Chen.
After polite routine greetings, she asked a question. “What do you think of Yin as a writer, Chief Inspector Chen?”
“I have not read her book yet. In the last few days, I’ve made phone calls to some people who have read it. They seem not to have a very high opinion of it. Of course, they may be biased because of her Red Guard activity.”
“That I can understand. I have read the book several times. One thing keeps puzzling me. Some parts are written so amateurishly, at least so it seems to me, almost like the diary of a high school student. But other parts are really good, like the beginning of the book, which shows historical depth.”
“You have made an insightful observation,” Chen said. “As to the uneven quality of her writing, one critic made a similar point, saying that Yin might have used a ghostwriter. After all, she had never written anything before.”
“But that does not account for the inconsistency.”
“The ghostwriter might have helped to write only part of the book.”
“Perhaps you have found us the motive we are seeking. Maybe somebody demanded money from her to keep her secret-I mean either the ghostwriter or someone who had found out-” Chen paused before contradicting himself “-but no, if it she was being blackmailed, why murder her? I’m confused.”
“It confuses me too.”
“Still, this could be important. At least it may be a lead to a possible motive. Thank you so much, Peiqin. I have been too busy with my translation to help Yu with the case.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I’ve simply read the novel. There’s not too much to do in my restaurant anyway.”
“But you’re doing a lot for the investigation.”
That was all she could accomplish for the moment, however. She decided to go home earlier than usual.
There was something else for her to do, she remembered. Something different.
Chapter 12
Since the start of the translation project, Chief Inspector Chen had become accustomed to surprises. This morning’s surprise came with a lanky workman who was supposed to install electric heaters and an air-conditioning unit in Chen’s apartment. The installer was almost as surprised as the chief inspector, for Chen was positive that he had not ordered such appliances.
He remembered having read about electric heaters. Most of the new buildings in the city still had no hot water system. So an electric heater was an option, a very expensive one. He had never thought about getting one for his own apartment. After all, he could always take showers at the bureau. As for an air-conditioner, he had not even dreamed of owning one.
He guessed whose idea this must have been, and picked up the phone.
“I cannot accept anything from you, Mr. Gu. It’s a matter of principle, you know.”
“White Cloud says that it’s too cold in your room. That’s not good for your work. I have several sets left over at the Dynasty Club. So why should they go to waste? “
“No, it’s too much.”
“How about buying them from me?”
“I cannot afford them.”
“I bought a large supply, so they came at a discount. Then there’s depreciation for the three years I’ve had them. How about nine hundred Yuan? And you don’t have to pay me right now. I’ll deduct it from the payment for the translation.”
“You are going out of your way for me, Mr. Gu.”
“No, I am a businessman. These units are lying around, useless, in storage. And to be honest, I think a cadre of your level should have had them long ago. You’re a man of integrity, and I admire you for that.” Gu changed the topic abruptly. “Oh, if I could secure American investment because of the business proposal you are translating, my dream would come true.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You are doing me a great favor, I mean it, Chief Inspector Chen.”
But Chen remained disturbed for a long while after the phone call, staring at the translation on the desk. It was not just by the noise of the man working in the bathroom, although installing the unit in the bathroom seemed to be very complicated, with some long pipes involved. It might take quite a while for the workman to finish.
In addition to those upstarts in the private business sector, Party officials or cadres also had begun to obtain these modern devices for their apartments. It was not hard for people to notice such widespread corruption, and they pointed angry fingers at the privileged few. Chen himself had complained about this.
But some things might take place in a “gray area,” Chen reflected. An emerging Party cadre like himself had to make connections for his work, connections like Mr. Gu. And with such connections came other things. In China, in the last analysis, connections meant everything. Guanxi.
He checked himself from speculating further along those lines. For the moment, he had no alternative but to concentrate on the New World proposal. Sometimes, we could be most productive under pressure. He dashed through two pages before he allowed himself to take a short break.
The heater had already started working with a light whirring sound. As in the New World, where, whatever the appearance of the exterior, modern luxuries inside would be necessary. His fingers seemed to be moving deftly over the keyboard with a new rhythm. Looking out the window, he saw another apartment complex looming up not too far away. A lonesome tung tree trembled in the chilly wind. He turned back resolutely to the text on the computer screen.
The New World could turn out to be like present-day China, full of contradictions. On the outside, the socialist system under the rule of the Communist Party, but on the inside, capitalist practice in whatever disguise.
Could the combination of the two really work?
Perhaps. No one was in a position to tell, but it seemed to have been doing fine so far, in spite of the tension between the two. And in spite of a price too-the ever-increasing gap between the poor and the rich.
The rich had already started to be concerned with Shanghai’s existential myth-the Paris of the Orient, the glitter and glory of the thirties-part and parcel of the superstructure to be erected on top of a socialist economic basis, the former justifying the latter, and vice versa, just like one of the Marxist principles Chen had studied in college.
For people like Gu, as well the consumers he anticipated, once the economic basis was established, a brave New World could, and perhaps should, exist. But what about the poor, who in the real world could hardly keep their pots boiling?
He was not meant to be a philosopher or economist, Chen reminded himself. He was nothing but a cop who happened to be translating a business proposal relating to the history of the city.
When the installer finally left, taking the cigarette Chen offered him and placing it behind his ear, Chen found the translation slowing down mysteriously. The new section dwelled on marketing plans in the context of globalization. He had no problem understanding the Chinese text, but he was not so sure about the exact English equivalents. Nor was it just a matter of looking up words in a dictionary, for it involved a number of new concepts, which had hardly existed in the Chinese language previously. Within the socialist state economy, for instance, “marketing” was a non-existent concept. State-run companies simply kept manufacturing in accordance with the state plan. There was no need or room for marketing. For many years, Chinese people cited a proverb: If the wine smells really wonderful, customers will come in spite of the length of the lane. Such an approach was not applicable to today’s business world.