A Case of Two Cities

investigation of An’s case could continue, to which he had made a personal commitment. And it might lead, one way or another, to Little Huang’s case.
     
    So he believed that as a cop, he played a positive role in this important case for his country, even though he had long given up some of the Confucianist ideals regarding an intellectual’s responsibilities. Chinese people had been complaining that the government slapped only at the mosquitoes, but not the tigers. This time, however, it was different.
     
    He turned to Catherine. There was no change in her expression. The conversation might not have given her enough clues. He wanted to tell her about the breakthrough in Shanghai, but not in the car. He was not sure about the driver.
     
    Their minivan arrived at the multistoried casino boat moored only two or three minutes’ walk from the Arch. At the casino entrance, they were greeted by a chorus of the money dancing and singing out of numerous slot machines, by the neon lights presenting the temptations of fabulous wealth and success. To the Chinese writers, the casino itself was like a surrealistic kingdom in the Journey to the West, a classic Chinese novel Chen had read in his childhood.
     
    Bao took a few nervous steps forward and backward before perching himself on a high stool before a slot machine. It seemed as if he were instantly glued onto the stool. He played small, holding a plastic cup in his hand, putting in a quarter a time, and pulling down the handle deliberately, like the conscientious worker he had been in the fifties. Zhong and Peng started walking around like hunters in new, unfamiliar woods, and then vanished like water into sand. Shasha went over to the roulette wheel, watching intently, like a character in the movie adapted from her novel.
     
    Perhaps they were still self-conscious, with all the Chinese regulations in mind, so they did not want to stay in each other’s company. And no one wanted Catherine to interpret or explain. So Chen and Catherine were left alone in the first-floor hall, surrounded by the soundtrack of all the coins pouring out of the machines.
     
    “What you gave me was really helpful,” he said.
     
    “What did I give you?” she said.
     
    Was she not willing to talk about it? Perhaps it only proved his guess: she had done that for him—in a way she wouldn’t like anybody else to know. So he’d better not talk about it.
     
    Shasha wandered back to them with a plastic cup similar to Bao’s, with the chips heavier, and different-colored.
     
    “You’d better not try your hand today, boss,” Shasha said with a broad grin.
     
    “Why?”
     
    “As an old saying goes, the one who enjoys the peach blossom luck may not have the money luck.”
     
    “You are joking again, Shasha.”
     
    “Well, try your luck with her,” Shasha said. “I am going to try my own somewhere else.”
     
    But he believed in his luck for the day, with Detective Yu’s call about the great breakthrough. Once more, Gu’s advance came in handy. He took his seat at a blackjack table with ten-dollar chips. He dragged Catherine to his side.
     
    “You need to explain the rules for me,” he said, thinking he might be able to talk to her about the latest development in the midst of the game.
     
    “It’s simple. Nothing but your luck,” she said, seating herself beside him.
     
    His proved to be extraordinary. For the first several hands in a row, he drew a twenty or twenty-one. As his luck ebbed a little, the dealer’s sunk much lower. Chen won even when she suggested he throw in. Soon chips piled up in front of him.
     
    “You’re really an experienced hand.”
     
    “No, it’s the first time.”
     
    “First timer’s luck,” she said smiling, clapping her hand with his, “from Shanghai.”
     
    He found it impossible to talk about things in Shanghai, with the game going on like this and with people standing behind them, watching.
     
    A bunny girl came to his table. Tall, buxom, she looked like anything but a bunny to him. She placed drinks in front of them, and he tossed a chip on her platter—in imitation of an American player. He was too busy picking up his cards and putting down his chips. He lost track of time flowing like the river outside, until a familiar cough startled him. He looked up to see Bao standing beside him, holding an empty plastic cup. An unmistakable sign. Bao had lost all his coins.
     
    “Join me,” Chen said, placing a handful of