Death of a Red Heroine

wanted to meet me.”
    “The same old dirty trick,” he said. “And everybody fell for it.”
    “But he had talent and kept his word. These pictures in People helped my position at school. So we came to know more of each other.”
    “And it began to develop into an affair?”
    “Yes, we started dating.”
    “You did not know that he was married?”
    “I did not know at first, but he did not try to cover it up. On our third or fourth date, he told me about his marriage, saying he was not happy with it. I could understand why—with his sick, neurotic wife. What mattered most, he said, was the time we shared. So I believed we might work something out eventually.”
    “Did he take the initial step in the sexual relationship between you?”
    “Do I have to answer that question?” she said, twisting her fingers.
    “Yes. If you answer now, it will save you a great deal of unpleasantness later.”
    “Well, he invited me to a party at his place, and afterward he asked me to stay on for a while. I agreed. I was a bit drunk.”
    “Then he took advantage of you while you were drunk.”
    “No, he did not force me.” She hung her head low, wringing her hands in a helpless gesture. “I was willing, hoping that sooner or later he would change his mind.”
    “Change his mind?”
    “Yes, I hoped he would choose to marry me and divorce his wife.”
    “How long were you together?”
    “A couple of months.”
    “Were you happy . . . with him?”
    “At first, when things went smoothly.”
    “How often were you together?”
    “Two or three times a week.”
    “What kind of man was he?” Yu asked. “Sexually, I mean.”
    The question came as a shock to her. She pulled at the hem of her T-shirt as she said in a whisper, “Normal.”
    “Weren’t you afraid of becoming pregnant?”
    “Yes, but I was always careful.”
    “Then why did you end it?”
    “He chose not to divorce his wife.”
    “Did you discuss the issue with him?”
    “Yes, but to no avail.”
    “You could have sued him, or approached his work unit.”
    “What’s the point?” she said with a tear trickling down her cheek. “With his family background, who would have listened to me? Besides, I was a ‘third party’ to begin with.”
    “So you just let him get away with it?”
    “I argued with him, and he did the most horrible thing. Those pictures—you have seen them, haven’t you? If I continued to harass him, he threatened to show them to other people.”
    “That HCC bastard!” He stood up, looking over her head toward a dismal, gray sky out the window, taking a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it, before he seated himself again on the hard rattan chair. “But how could you have let him take those photos?”
    “I had posed for him on a professional level,” she said sobbing. “Later on, I allowed him to take more intimate . . . . He had his own darkroom and equipment, so I was not worried. But those horrible nude photos, those were taken while I was sleeping. And he posed on top of me without my knowledge.”
    “Oh, I see.” So those pictures were not just of Ning herself, but of her and Wu together. Yu needed some time to think about this new information. Apparently Wu had taken and kept the pictures for a purpose: to get rid of somebody when he no longer desired her.
    “So that was the end of your affair?” Yu asked.
    “Yes. He never contacted me again.”
    “Just one more question: Was Wu Xiaoming seeing somebody else when you parted with him?”
    “I was not sure, but there were other girls at those parties.”
    “Did you know someone named Guan Hongying among them?”
    “No. Guan Hongying—isn’t she the national model worker? Heavens.”
    Yu took a picture of Guan out of his pocket. “Do you recognize her?”
    “Yes, I think so. I saw her only once at Wu’s place. I remember her because she clung to him all the evening, but I did not know her name at the time. Wu did not introduce her to anybody.”
    “Wu certainly would not have done that,” he said. “Do you know anything else about her?”
    “No, that’s all.” She fumbled in her bag and found a handkerchief.
    “Contact me if you can think of anything, Comrade Ning.”
    “I will.” She then added, “You won’t tell other people?”
    “I’ll try my best,” he said.
    She accompanied him to the door, her face streaked with tears, her head hung low, no longer the hostile antagonist of an hour ago, her hands nervously pulling again at the