Death of a Red Heroine

you, maybe not, Comrade Chief Inspector. And thank you for your political lecture, too,” she said. “I think it’s time that you start asking your questions.”
    “Well, some may be difficult. But whatever you say will be kept confidential, I give you my word.”
    “I’ll tell you whatever I know—after such a meal as you’ve just given me.”
    “You had worked as a tourist guide before coming to Guangzhou.”
    “Yes, I quit that job a couple of months ago.”
    “On one of the Yellow Mountain trips, you met a man named Wu Xiaoming?”
    “Wu Xiaoming? Oh yes, I remember him.”
    “He had a girlfriend with him during the trip, hadn’t he?”
    “Yes,” she said, “but at first I did not know it.”
    “When did you come to know this?”
    “The second or the third day of the trip. But why, Comrade Chief Inspector? What makes me worth your trip to Guangzhou?”
    “She was murdered last month.”
    “What?”
    He produced a picture out of his briefcase. She took it over, and her fingers holding the picture trembled.
    “That’s her.”
    “She was Guan Hongying, a national model worker, and Wu Xiaoming’s our suspect. So what you know about the two of them may be very important.”
    “Before I say anything,” she said, looking into the glass in her hand, and then up at him, “I want you to answer a question.”
    “Go ahead.”
    “Are you aware of his family background?”
    “Of course, I’m aware of that.”
    “Then why do you want to pursue the investigation?”
    “It’s my job.”
    “Come on, there are so many cops in China. You’re not the only one. Why are you so dedicated?”
    “I’m . . . a romantic cop, as you have said. I believe in justice. Poetic justice if you want to call it that.”
    “You think you can bring him down.”
    “We have a good chance. That’s why I need your cooperation.”
    “Oh,” she said softly, “you really are special. No wonder Old Ouyang likes you so much. Now that you have answered my questions, I will answer yours.”
    “What was your first impression of them?”
    “I cannot remember exactly, but one of the first things I noticed about them was their assumed names.”
    “How could you tell?”
    “Wu registered for both of them in our office. He had to change a character stroke in his signature.”
    “You’re very observant,” he said. “No one makes a mistake with his own signature.”
    “What’s more, they registered as a couple, asking for a double room, but instead of showing their marriage license, he only provided me with a statement on official letterhead. Normally, it would be much easier to show the license.”
    “I see.” He nodded. “Did you talk to your boss about your suspicion?”
    “No, it was just an idea that crossed my mind. In the mountains, I noticed something else.”
    “What’s that?”
    “It was the second morning, I think. I happened to pass by their room. A perfect day, and everybody was having a wonderful time outside. I saw something like continuous flashing inside their room through the blinds. I felt curious—and a bit responsible too. So I peeped in. I was shocked to see Guan posing nude, on all fours, her legs wide apart, her forehead pressing against her forearms on the ground, like a kneeling dog. He was taking pictures of her. Now why should a couple come all the way to a mountain hotel room to take those pictures?”
    “Um, you may have a point there,” Chen said. “Did you speak?”
    “Of course not. But later Wu approached me.”
    “How?”
    “In his professional way, of course. He showed me the advanced equipment he carried in his camera bag. Imported pieces. Very expensive. There was also an album containing center-fold-size photographs of beautiful women, including a notorious actress, and some fashion models and some clippings from well-known magazines.”
    “Why did he want to show all that to you?”
    “He said that as a professional photographer, he was hot. These women were all eager to have pictures taken by him and published. And he offered to take pictures of me.”
    “I see,” he said. “So you accepted his offer?”
    “No, not at first. It made me sick, the sight of Guan kneeling at his feet like a groveling dog. Nor did I like the idea of posing for a stranger.
    “Right, you cannot be too careful nowadays. What did he do then?”
    “He showed me his business card. Only then did I come to know who he was—his real name. Of course, he told me about his family