A Case of Two Cities

subway—neither Ming nor Xing mentioned a single word about it to me. That’s the most important part of the operation and a number of people higher up were involved.”
     
    The Bund was enveloped in the night. Across the river, numerous neon lights on the eastern bank started projecting fanciful attractions for a new part of the city. She might have been telling the truth, except the part about her own activities.
     
    “How did you get those photos?” she said.
     
    “Somebody sent them to me. Don’t worry about it. No one knows anything about our meeting tonight. No one could have suspected—in a lovers’ nest.”
     
    “A penny for your thoughtfulness.”
     
    “Now, you mentioned that Ming contacted you as late as the Chinese New Year. According to my information, Xing got away in early January. If that’s true, Ming got out later than Xing.”
     
    “I can’t be sure of the exact date. Ming may still be here, I’ve heard something about it, but I’m not sure. I’m going to make phone calls, and I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.”
     
    “That will really help. You know how to contact me.” He put down his cell phone number on the back of his business card and rose from the table.
     
    At the restaurant exit, the elevator door opened like a grin, and she leaned over, whispering in his ear, “You promise that you will return the pictures?”
     
    “I give you my word.”
     
    “Get rid of them in your memory too.”
     
    He was surprised at the coquettish way she made her second request. It was not like her—not in the days of their reading group. But he did not know her anymore, not after so many years.
     
    “I will, An.”
     
    “I will come or call, Chen,” she said. “If not tomorrow, then the day after tomorrow.”
     
    * * * *
     

7
     
     
    A
    N DID NOT COME or call the following day, nor the day after it, as she had promised.
     
    Chen did not want to think too much about it. He tried to put his father’s calligraphy scroll on the wall. Liu Zhongyuan was a great Tang poet, and like some of his contemporary intellectuals, Liu had been politically disappointed— with those red rats controlling the court—but it was in his exile that he wrote his best poems. Chen wondered whether this could be the reason why he wrote so little of late. Then his mind wandered away, thinking of several lines by another Tang dynasty poet who also wrote in his down-and-out days:
     
    You say you will come, but you do not keep your word,
    you ‘re gone, not a single trace left.
    The moonlight slant on the tower,
    at the fifth strike of the night watch.
     
    Chen recalled those lines in a self-depreciative mood. But he was not exactly worried. There was no telling whether Ming was still hiding in the city, and it would take time for An to find out. Still, she would cooperate. After all, he had the pictures in his hands.
     
    In the meantime, he kept himself busy interviewing other officials on the list. He made a point of being perfunctory and polite, never pushing anyone too far. The message would be clear: he had learned the risks involved from Director Dong and now Chief Inspector Chen was merely putting on a show—that’s all it was.
     
    He also made inquiries into Ming’s business—through his personal connections, under the excuse of apartment hunting. He had been talking about buying his mother an apartment for some time, so his questions about real estate companies seemed natural. Ming having disappeared, his company had gone temporarily into disarray, but the housing project was said to be moving forward with no real disruption. Before his mysterious evaporation, Ming sold the company to someone named Pan Hao. Pan was a mystery man, allegedly from Beijing, with several large companies under his name. So the financial future of the new company seemed to be secure.
     
    He got a call from Detective Yu in the afternoon.
     
    “In a press conference held yesterday,” Yu said, “Party Secretary Li bragged and boasted about your work under the Party Discipline Committee.
     
    “What? He promised not to tell anyone about it!”
     
    “He mentioned you as our ace detective, and your assignment as another proof of the government’s determination to fight corruption.”
     
    “It’s really becoming a part of a show, as you’ve said.”
     
    “The publicity won’t do you any good.”
     
    “No, it won’t. But my assignment is probably no longer a secret after my talk with