A Loyal Character Dancer

spots left on the bank.
     
    But there was something puzzling Chen. No one would have tried to dispose of a body here without foreseeing its immediate discovery. The park was at the center of Shanghai, visited daily by thousands of people. Why transport the corpse here?
     
    It was then that he saw the familiar figure of Detective Yu striding through the haze with a camera slung over his shoulder. A tall man of medium build, with a rugged face and deep-set eyes, Yu was his well-seasoned assistant, though Chen’s senior by a couple of years. Yu was also his only colleague who did not grumble behind his back about the chief inspector’s rapid rise, attributable to Deng Xiaoping’s new cadre policy favoring those with a formal education. Yu had been a friend to him since they had solved the National Model Worker case.
     
    “Here?” Yu said, without formally greeting his boss.
     
    “Yes, here.”
     
    Yu started shooting pictures from different angles. He knelt by the body, zoomed in for close-ups, and examined the wounds carefully. Producing a ruler from his pants pockets, he measured the cuts on the front of the body before turning it over to check the wounds on the back. Yu then looked up at Chen over his shoulder.
     
    “Any clue to his identity?” he asked.
     
    “No.”
     
    “Triad killing, I am afraid,” Yu said.
     
    “Why do you think so?”
     
    “Look at the wounds. Ax wounds. Seventeen or eighteen of them. There’s no need for so many. The number may have a specific meaning. A common practice with gangsters. The blow to his skull would have been more than enough for the job.” Yu stood up, putting the ruler back in his pocket. “An average wound length of two and a half to three inches. That bespeaks a steady hand with a lot of strength. Not amateur work.”
     
    “Good observations.” Chen nodded. “Where do you think the killing took place?”
     
    “Anywhere but here. The guy’s still in his pajamas. The killer must have brought the body here. As a special warning. It’s another sign of a triad killing. To send a message.”
     
    “To whom?”
     
    “Perhaps to somebody in the park,” Yu said. “Or somebody who will learn about it in no time. To spread the news fast and wide, there is no better place than the park.”
     
    “So you think the body has been left here to be found?”
     
    “Yes, I think so.”
     
    “Then how shall we start?”
     
    Yu asked a question instead. “Do we have to take the case, Chief? I’m not saying that the bureau should not take it, but as far as I remember, our special case squad takes only political cases.”
     
    Chen could understand his assistant’s reservations. Normally their squad did not have to take a case until it was declared “special” by the bureau, for stated or unstated political reasons. “Special,” in other words, was the label applied when the bureau had to adjust its focus to meet political needs.
     
    “Well, there’s been talk about setting up a new squad—a triad squad, but this might be classified as a special case. And we are not yet sure that it’s a triad killing.”
     
    “But if it is, it will be a hot potato. A hand-burning one.”
     
    “You have a point,” Chen said, aware of what Yu was driving at. Not too many cops would be interested in a case related to those gangs.
     
    “My left eyelid kept twitching this morning. Not a good omen, Chief.”
     
    “Come on, Detective Yu.” Chief Inspector Chen was not a superstitious man, not like some of his colleagues who would consult the I Ching before taking a case. If superstition did come into play, however, there was actually a reason he should take the case. It was in this park that his luck had taken a turn for the better.
     
    “In grade school I learned that Chiang Kai-shek came to power with the help of the gangs in Shanghai. Several ministers in his government were members of the Blue triad.” Yu paused, then went on, “After 1949, the gangsters were suppressed, but they staged a comeback in the eighties, you know.”
     
    “Yes, I know that.” He was surprised at his assistant’s unaccustomed eloquence. Yu usually spoke without book-quoting or history-citing.
     
    “Those gangsters may be far more powerful than we imagine. They have branches in Hong Kong, Taiwan, Canada, the United States, and everywhere else in the world. Not to mention their connection to some of the top officials here.”
     
    “I have read reports about the