A Case of Two Cities

raise this with Detective Lenich today.”
     
    “He’s going to be with us all day again today?” Zhong snapped. “That’s absurd!”
     
    “Oh, we are going to the Arch, but he won’t be with us. He’ll be working in the hotel, and you can always contact him.”
     
    It couldn’t be easy to be an interpreter-escort under normal circumstances, let alone this far-from-the-normal situation. The Chinese seemed to be in a collective lousy mood; the investigation meant a prolonged stay in St. Louis, with all sorts of restrictions imposed. Detective Lenich’s questions, while quite routine, must have sounded unpleasant to the Chinese, she thought as she took her shower. As she stepped out, still wrapped in a towel, the phone shrilled again.
     
    “Sorry to call so early in the morning, Catherine,” Chen said.
     
    “You aren’t that early. This is the third or fourth call this morning.” She took a look at the clock, drying her hair with the towel. Not even eight yet. “I’ll come down. We’re meeting at eight-thirty, right?”
     
    “Yes. Yesterday I tried to talk to hotel security, but we didn’t have time. So this morning I thought you might be able to help me before we leave. Just a few questions. It won’t take too long.”
     
    “Fine, I’ll be down in one minute.”
     
    She dressed quickly and headed down to the lobby. She saw him standing in a corner, toying with a cell phone in his hand, a plastic bag on the chair beside him. He was dressed in a three-piece black suit with a scarlet silk tie. He looked like a Chinese official.
     
    “Good morning, Miss Rohn.”
     
    “Morning, Mr. Chen.”
     
    “Look, I called you with this cell phone,” he said smiling. “Last night, Detective Lenich talked about the hotel phone records. There’s one thing I forgot to tell him. Two of us also have cell phones. Bao and I. I have to call China while traveling from one city to the next; my mother is in poor health. The prepaid cell phone is expensive. I don’t know how and why Bao has one. I don’t even know his number.”
     
    “I’m sorry to hear about your mother’s health,” she said. But the part about the cell phone was strange, she thought. He could have told Lenich about it. It was an odd thing to say to her first thing in the morning. She looked up at him and he flipped the phone closed emphatically.
     
    “Oh, this is for you,” he said, already changing the subject as he handed the plastic bag to her. “Last night, there were people in my room, and I came over in a hurry. The writing set is from Mr. Gu. The book is from me. You like Chinese poetry, I know.”
     
    “Thank you so much, Chen. Can I take a look? The Chinese way is to open the present later, I know.”
     
    “Now we are in St. Louis, so do as St. Louisians do.”
     
    Shasha’s appearance in the lobby, however, interrupted their conversation. “Oh, you two are down early,” Shasha said in mock surprise.
     
    “Miss Rohn has been doing a great job for us,” he said. “To express our gratitude, I am giving her some small gifts.”
     
    “The writing set is expensive,” Shasha said, picking up the miniature water ladle and turning it over to read the tiny engraving on its back. “Eighteen-karat gold. I have a similar set at home. Four or five thousand yuan.”
     
    “Really!” Chen exclaimed. “A friend gave it to me, and I think it will make a good present for Miss Rohn, a would-be sinologist.”
     
    He didn’t reveal that it was a gift to her from Mr. Gu and Catherine knew why.
     
    “A new book by you?” Shasha went on, picking up the book.
     
    “An advance copy,” he said. “A collection of classic Chinese poetry in translation.”
     
    “You never told me about it, Chen. You must have prepared the present just for her,” Shasha said smiling, turning toward Catherine. “Our poet must have brought the book all the way here for you.”
     
    Catherine smiled without making a response to Shasha. “Thank you, Mr. Chen. I like Chinese poetry. It’s a wonderful present.”
     
    Shasha turned to the inscription page, on which were two lines he had copied in English: Anguish of separation is like spring grass: / the farther you go, the more it grows. The couplet might be from a poem in the collection, but Shasha didn’t read English.
     
    The other Chinese began to show up. It was the time for them to set out for the Arch. Catherine clapped her hands for attention.
     
    “I’ve talked to the city