A Loyal Character Dancer

hotel. So please go on with your report, in detail.”
     
    “First, about the victim’s pajamas. Some part I have told you already. No label in the pajamas, but there is a fine design woven into the material, shaped like a V connected with an elliptical circle. I spoke with Tang Kaiyuan, a fashion designer. According to Tang, the design stands for Valentino, an international brand. Very expensive. There’s no store selling it in Shanghai. So the victim must have been a rich man. Possibly from another province. Maybe from Hong Kong.”
     
    “It may be a fake, a knockoff,” Chen commented.
     
    “I thought about that, too. Tang said that it’s not likely. He has never seen fake Valentino pajamas here. Knockoffs come in large quantities. No one will try to make just one or two pieces. A month ago, there was a raid on a warehouse and more than three hundred thousand cheap Polo logo T-shirts were found. If they had been put on the market, the real, high-priced Polo brand shirts would have been unsaleable.”
     
    “Tang has a good point.”
     
    “I also had a discussion with Dr. Xia. That’s why I did not have time to call you. The good doctor’s willing to go out of his way for you. Remember the unidentified drug he found in the body of the ax-murder corpse? When we discussed the fact the victim had had sex shortly before he was killed, the doctor got an idea that the mysterious drug might be a sort of aphrodisiac, and he took out a thick reference volume there and then. Sure enough, he found a drug with similar molecular structure. At the time when the book was published, this drug was available only in Southeast Asia. It can be very expensive.”
     
    “The victim must have been able to afford expensive luxuries, with such a brand of pajamas, and such a drug, but he doesn’t sound like one of those new capitalists to me.”
     
    “I agree,” Old Hunter said. “I will do further research tomorrow.”
     
    “Thanks, Uncle Yu. Not a single word about your discovery to the people in the bureau.”
     
    “I understand, Chief Inspector Chen.”
     
    It was almost twelve as Chen put down the phone. All in all, the day had not ended too badly, though his dream had been broken into by the phone call.
     
    Of that dream, only one fragmented scene remained in his mind. He was walking to an ancient bridge over a Qing dynasty moat, alone, crunching over a blanket of golden leaves, somewhere in the Forbidden City. A poem by Zhang Bi, a Tang dynasty poet, came to mind.
     
    The dream comes lingering back to the old place:
    The winding verandah, the circling balustrade.
    There is nothing like the moon, still shining on the petals
    Fallen in the spring court, for the lonely visitor.
     
    Chief Inspector Chen made himself another cup of black coffee, trying to cleanse his palate and his mind of the dream. This was not a night for recollecting poems. He had to think.

Chapter 12
     
     
    T
    he phone began ringing before her alarm went off. Rubbing her eyes, Catherine snatched up the receiver. It was her boss’s voice on the line, clear, familiar, though thousands of miles away. “Sorry to wake you, Catherine.”
     
    “It’s okay.”
     
    “How are things?”
     
    “Lousy,” she said. “The Fujian police have made no progress. Here in Shanghai, we’ve not gotten any leads by interviewing Wen’s possible contacts.”
     
    “You know the trial date. The INS has been driving us crazy.”
     
    “Is it possible to postpone the trial?”
     
    “Not a popular idea, I’m afraid.”
     
    “Politics. Here, too. Is there any information about the gang that threatened Feng?”
     
    “Feng has not heard from them again. We have taken your suggestion and are keeping him in the same place. If the gang has Wen, they will send another more explicit message to him.”
     
    “The Chinese believe that the triad is looking for her but may not have her yet.”
     
    “What’s your opinion of the Chinese?”
     
    “The Shanghai Police Bureau or Chief Inspector Chen?”
     
    “Well, both,” Spencer said.
     
    “The bureau has made a point of treating me as a distinguished guest. Party Secretary Li Guohua, the bureau’s top official, is going to meet me today or tomorrow. A courtesy, I guess. As for Chief Inspector Chen, I would say he works conscientiously.”
     
    “I’m glad to hear they treat you well, and your Chinese partner is a decent guy. Now about Chen, the CIA would like you to gather some information on