A Case of Two Cities

assigned to the case last night.”
     
    “We have to inform the Chinese embassy of the case.”
     
    “I’ve already done that. The embassy people are contacting Huang’s family. They may fly over as early as tomorrow.”
     
    “We have to report this to the Foreign Ministry in Beijing. It’s a serious diplomatic incident.”
     
    “Yes, we’ll do that, but the embassy must have notified Beijing.”
     
    “Now what are we supposed to do here?” Shasha cut in, in her terry robe and slippers, her toenails painted like blood.
     
    “We may have to stay here for the time being. To cooperate with the police. The American investigators will come for our statements.”
     
    “That’s absurd,” Zhong said, striding into the room. “The American government has invited us over. One of us was murdered here, and we are going to make statements to their cops?”
     
    “Don’t worry about the statement. Nothing but routine questions. It doesn’t mean that you are a suspect.” Chen added, “That’s also the opinion of the Chinese embassy—that we should cooperate in whatever way possible.”
     
    “In addition to giving statements,” Zhong said, “what else can we possibly do?”
     
    “It will be hard to continue the delegation activities as scheduled. The news must have attracted negative media attention and the university is concerned about it. So we’ll wait until further notice. In the meantime, we have to be careful.”
     
    “Who will serve as our interpreter then?” Shasha said.
     
    “I’ll help as much as I can,” Chen said. “I’ll talk to the Americans about it.”
     
    Chen spent the next half hour making phone calls, making explanations, and making notes whenever he had a minute. The two local institutions originally responsible for the day’s activities were universities. One of them, Washington University, with a Chinese department, promised to send over help for interpretation.
     
    Shortly before nine, the front desk called up, saying Detective Jonathan Lenich had arrived at the hotel in the company of a new interpreter. They were both waiting in the lobby. Chen and Bao immediately went downstairs.
     
    “Oh, you must be Mr. Chen Cao,” a young blond woman in a white blouse and blue jeans stood up, speaking in Chinese. “I am Catherine Rohn. The university sent me over as your new interpreter. You speak English too, I know.”
     
    “Oh, Catherine—” Chen was practically speechless at the meeting, before he realized her self-introduction in Chinese was not meant for him. “Thank you for your help, Miss Rohn.”
     
    It was clever of her to have announced her temporary identity as an interpreter-escort. There must have been a reason for her to be sent over in that capacity. It was a sensitive case; at least so it must have seemed to some people here. Otherwise a marshal wouldn’t have been dispatched incognito.
     
    For Chen, there was no point revealing their former relationship, either, though it could be the very reason that she was assigned here. It would have led to unnecessary speculation among the Chinese. For the moment, it was nothing but business. He’d better not mention anything to her, not even in English.
     
    Whatever the reason was, she was someone he thought he could trust. But then again was he really so sure—after all the silence?
     
    So many days, where have you been —
    like a traveling cloud
    that forgets to come back,
    unaware of the spring drawing to an end. . .
     
    “You must have heard of the situation,” Bao started sternly. Because of the linguistic barrier, he had been unable to say anything as the Party secretary of the delegation. A barrage of questions came from Bao, but they were neither here nor there. It was hard for her to answer them—or not to answer them.
     
    “I’ve heard there was an accident,” she said, handing over her business card to Bao. “Washington University called me early this morning to provide interpretation service, but they did not tell me anything else. You will have to speak to Detective Lenich about it.”
     
    “She is a temporary interpreter,” Chen said to Bao, glancing at the bilingual business card, which declared her as a senior interpreter from a local translation agency. “We don’t have to discuss the case with her.”
     
    Catherine translated his remark to the detective.
     
    “I’m in charge of the case,” Lenich said. “You can discuss it with me.”
     
    But Bao’s questions