Death of a Red Heroine [Chief Inspector Chen Cao 01] (46 page)

“Wu Xiaoming? Oh yes, I remember him.”

“He had a girlfriend with him during the trip, hadn’t he?”

“Yes,” she said, “but at first I did not know it.”

“When did you come to know this?”

“The second or the third day of the trip. But why, Comrade Chief Inspector? What makes me worth your trip to Guangzhou?”

“She was murdered last month.”

“What?”

He produced a picture out of his briefcase. She took it over, and her fingers holding the picture trembled.

“That’s her.”

“She was Guan Hongying, a national model worker, and Wu Xiaoming’s our suspect. So what you know about the two of them may be very important.”

“Before I say anything,” she said, looking into the glass in her hand, and then up at him, “I want you to answer a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Are you aware of his family background?”

“Of course, I’m aware of that.”

“Then why do you want to pursue the investigation?”

“It’s my job.”

“Come on, there are so many cops in China. You’re not the only one. Why are you so dedicated?”

“I’m ... a romantic cop, as you have said. I believe in justice. Poetic justice if you want to call it that.”

“You think you can bring him down.”

“We have a good chance. That’s why I need your cooperation.”

“Oh,” she said softly, “you really are special. No wonder Old Ouyang likes you so much. Now that you have answered my questions, I will answer yours.”

“What was your first impression of them?”

“I cannot remember exactly, but one of the first things I noticed about them was their assumed names.”

“How could you tell?”

“Wu registered for both of them in our office. He had to change a character stroke in his signature.”

“You’re very observant,” he said. “No one makes a mistake with his own signature.”

“What’s more, they registered as a couple, asking for a double room, but instead of showing their marriage license, he only provided me with a statement on official letterhead. Normally, it would be much easier to show the license.”

“I see.” He nodded. “Did you talk to your boss about your suspicion?”

“No, it was just an idea that crossed my mind. In the mountains, I noticed something else.”

“What’s that?”

“It was the second morning, I think. I happened to pass by their room. A perfect day, and everybody was having a wonderful time outside. I saw something like continuous flashing inside their room through the blinds. I felt curious—and a bit responsible too. So I peeped in. I was shocked to see Guan posing nude, on all fours, her legs wide apart, her forehead pressing against her forearms on the ground, like a kneeling dog. He was taking pictures of her. Now why should a couple come all the way to a mountain hotel room to take those pictures?”

“Um, you may have a point there,” Chen said. “Did you speak?”

“Of course not. But later Wu approached me.”

“How?”

“In his professional way, of course. He showed me the advanced equipment he carried in his camera bag. Imported pieces. Very expensive. There was also an album containing center-fold-size photographs of beautiful women, including a notorious actress, and some fashion models and some clippings from well-known magazines.”

“Why did he want to show all that to you?”

“He said that as a professional photographer, he was hot. These women were all eager to have pictures taken by him and published. And he offered to take pictures of me.”

“I see,” he said. “So you accepted his offer?”

“No, not at first. It made me sick, the sight of Guan kneeling at his feet like a groveling dog. Nor did I like the idea of posing for a stranger.

“Right, you cannot be too careful nowadays. What did he do then?”

“He showed me his business card. Only then did I come to know who he was—his real name. Of course, he told me about his family background. I asked him why he had chosen a nobody like me. He said he saw in me what he had never seen before. Lost innocence or something. With his photos, he might be able to introduce me to directors.”

“A trick he must have played with many people.”

“He also promised I could keep all the pictures. A set of fashion pictures taken at a studio on Nanjing Road would cost a fortune, but I would not have to pay him a penny.”

“Well, how was he as a photographer?”

“A real pro. He used up five rolls of film in the first hour. He kept changing the lighting and angles, and kept me changing clothes and poses, too. He said he wanted to capture my most beautiful moments.”

“That sounds romantic.”

“Before I knew it, he wanted me to pose with a towel around my body. He arranged the folds for me, adjusted my positions, and touched me here and there. One thing led to another, and to the bed. I think I’ll spare you the details.”

“So you were together quite a number of times?”

“No, only twice, if that’s what you mean. During the day I was busy, meeting all the customers’ requests. There were about twenty people in the group. And he could come to me only in the evening—only after Guan fell asleep.”

“And what was he like in bed?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sexually.”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes, details can be crucial in a case like this.”

“As far as I could judge, he was just average, and me, too.”

“Can you try to be a bit more specific?”

“More specific? All right, I want a man to take me up and down until I don’t have anything left. He happened to be that kind. Bang, bang, bang, till the end of the world.”

“Did he show any perversity?”

“No, he always had me lie on my back, with a pillow under my hips, and my legs spread wide apart. Thorough-going, no digression or deviation.” She added, in a sarcastic tone, “We should have stayed in the massage room, where I could demonstrate to your satisfaction.”

“No,” he said, “that’s not what I want. I’m a cop, so I have to ask you these questions. I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t have to feel sorry. What am I? A trashy massage girl. A high-ranking police officer can do anything with me.”

“A different question—” he said, catching a note of hysteria resurfacing in her voice, “how did Guan come to fight with you?”

“She must have suspected something. Wu came to my room more than once. Or maybe she had seen a Polaroid of me.”

“When did it happen?”

“Two or three days after the photo session, I was alone in my room, taking a break when she burst in. She accused me of sleeping with her man. But she’s not his wife. Wu had told me. It was the pot calling the kettle black.”

“What did you say to her?”

“‘Pee your chaste pee, and see your own reflection in it,’ andshe fell on me like a tigress. What a fury. She screamed and scratched, with both hands and all her fingers.”

“Did the hotel security people come?”

“No, but Wu did. He took her side, trying his best to calm her down. He did not say a single kind word to me, as if I were an old piece of mop cloth discarded on the floor. And she was mad, shouting and screaming at him, too.”

“Do you remember what she said?”

“No, I was devastated. Even to think about it now . . . Give me a cigarette.”

She screwed her eyes shut against the smoke.

Through the smoke, he was studying her carefully, waiting.

“What did she want him to do?” he said.

“Be nice to her, I guess, like a husband—or to be her husband, I think. She was not coherent. She screamed like a jealous wife catching an unfaithful husband in the act.”

“Let me ask one more question,” he said. “Did the fight lead to your quitting the travel agency job?’

“No, not really. It took place behind a closed door. Even if people had overheard, it was none of their business. Guan threatened that she would approach my boss, but she did not do anything.”

“She would not,” he said, “not in her position.”

Her napkin fell to the floor. Courteously he stooped to pick it up for her. Under the table, he saw her bare feet hooked over the bottom rung of her chair, as if cut off by the white tablecloth.

“Thanks,” she said, wiping her lips with the napkin. “I think that’s all I can remember, Comrade Chief Inspector.”

“Thank you, Xie Rong. You’ve given us some very important information.”

The bill was larger than Chief Inspector Chen had expected, but Xie’s information was definitely worth it. The waitress walked out with them, holding the door open.

As they started back to her house, a silence fell between them. She said little until they came in sight of her building.

“You don’t seem old enough to be a chief inspector,” she said, slowing her steps.

“I’m older than you,” Chen said. “Much older.”

A ray of sunshine spilled over her loose hair, illuminating her clear profile. They stood close, her head nearly touching his shoulder.

“It’s one of my mother’s favorite stories. A gallant knight on a white horse comes to rescue a princess from a dungeon guarded by black demons,” she said. “For her, the world’s black and white.”

“And for you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Nothing’s ever been that simple.”

“I understand,” he said. “But I’ve promised your mother to bring her message to you. You’re her only daughter, and she wants you to come home.”

“That’s nothing new,” she said.

“If you move back, and want to find a different job, I may be able to help.”

“Thank you,” she said. “But I’m making money now, in my way. I’m my own boss here, and I don’t have to put up with any political shit.”

“You’re going to make it a life-long career?”

“No, I’m still young. After I’ve made enough money, I will start something different, something after my own heart. I don’t think you want to come to my room again.”

“No, I have to leave. I have a lot of work.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.”

“I hope we will see each other,” he added, “under different circumstances.”

“I was—straight—until two or three months ago,” she said. “I want you to know.”

“I know.”

“You know that as a chief inspector?”

“No, but I also want you to know,” he said, “you are an attractive woman.”
                                           

“Do you think so?”
                                     

“I do, but I’m a cop. And I have been one for several years. That’s the way I live.”