Death of a Red Heroine

with descriptions of their positions, secrets, and preferences in bed—all the intimate details of the sexual intercourse he had with them—oh, come on, Detective Yu, you surely know the story well.”
    “Chief Inspector Chen has translated a few Western mysteries,” Detective Yu said equivocally, having never read the story himself. “You can discuss it with him.”
    “Really, I thought he wrote only poems.”
    “Now what could Wu have wanted to do with these pictures?”
    “I don’t know, but he’s not just a Don Juan who wants to satisfy his ego by looking over his naked conquests.”
    “That S.O.B.,” Yu cursed, not familiar with Don Juan either.
    “I could live with a Don Juan, but that kind of cold-blooded cynicism really put me off. So I decided to part with him.”
    “You were wise to make that decision.”
    “I’ve got my work to do,” she looked down somberly. ”I did not want to be involved in a scandal. Now I’ve told you all I know.”
    “That’s really important information. You’re helping us a lot, Comrade Jiang. We’ll make sure that your name will never be mentioned in the official investigation record.”
    “Thank you.”
    She stood up, accompanying Yu toward the door. “Comrade Detective Yu.”
    “Yes?”
    “I may have something else for you, I think,” she said, “but I need to ask you a favor.”
    “As long as it’s in my power.”
    “Wu and I have parted. Whatever grudge I have against him, I should not throw stones into the well where he is drowning. So I won’t tell you anything I’ve not seen or heard myself. But I happened to know one of Wu’s girls at the time we parted.”
    “Who is she?”
    “Her name is Ning Jing. How Wu had picked her up, or what he saw in her, I’ve no idea at all. Perhaps just another object for his camera’s eye, to be focused, shot, and pasted into his album.
    I’m mentioning her because she may know something about Wu and Guan. Guan could have been the next girl after her.”
    “Yes, that may be an important lead, Comrade Jiang. I’ll definitely check it out. But what can I do for you?”
    “If it is possible, please try not to involve her in any publicity. That’s the favor I’m asking. I have had my share, and a column more or less in tabloid magazines does not make much difference to me. But she is different. She’s going to get married soon, I’ve heard.”
    “I see,” he said. “I will do my best. Do you have her address?”
    “She has her name listed in the phone book,” she said, taking down a directory. “Let me find it for you.”
    He got the name, address, and phone number.
    “Thank you. I’ll tell Chief Inspector Chen about all the help you’ve given us.”
    “And say hello to Chief Inspector Chen.”
    “I will. And good-bye.”
    At the foot of the stairs, Yu turned around and saw her still standing barefoot on the landing. But she wasn’t looking at him. She was gazing at the distant horizon behind the multi-colored roofs.
    A nice woman, though her philosophy of life was beyond him. Perhaps it was the price one pays for being an artist, Detective Yu suspected. Being different.
    Just like Chief Inspector Chen—who was nonetheless a capable cop.
    With Wu Xiaoming, however, it was more than being different.
    Yu decided to go to Ning Jing’s place immediately. It would not be a pleasant visit, nor would it be easy.
    Jiang Weihe had been cooperative, but only after the combined pressure of “the hard and the soft.” The threat of revealing her identity as the nude in the magazine, and the note from Chen. But with Ning, Detective Yu had nothing to use. Nothing but the scanty information from Jiang who, despite her declaration, might well have harbored a personal grudge against Ning. So the only card he could play would be that of bluff, one of the effective tactics to bring a potential witness around, especially with the possibility of a “peach-colored scandal.” A phone call to her work unit from the Shanghai Police Bureau would be enough to start a wildfire of gossip, finger pointing, head shaking, saliva spitting on her back, and whatnot. It need not take a formal investigation to put her under suspicion.
    Ning’s apartment was on Xikang Road, close to the Gate to Joy, a nightclub that had been rehabilitated and reopened.
    A young woman appeared at the door where he rang the bell. “What do you want?”
    Ning wore a white T-shirt several sizes too large that completely covered her shorts.