Death of a Red Heroine

your help.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s been a long day for me, too.”
    “I know. I’ll come home right now.”
    “You don’t have to come home just for my sake. It will be too late for the meeting anyway. But remember what your father said yesterday.”
    “Yes, I do remember.”
    Peiqin had been worried since Old Hunter told them about Chief Inspector Chen’s trouble. So it was not just a call about his absence from the school meeting, but more about his continuing the investigation. Peiqin was too sensible to say a single word on the phone about that case.
    Yu had chosen to be a cop, even though there had not been too much for him to choose from. He had not given much thought to the comfortable orthodoxy that law and order were the cornerstone of the society. He simply thought that the job was right for him, not only for his self-support, but for his self-justification, too. A capable cop, he had believed, could make a difference. Not too long after he had joined the force, however, he had few illusions left about it.
    The more Yu pondered, the more upset he became about Commissar Zhang. That ancient diehard Marxist, with an always-politically-correct smile printed across his face like a postmark, must have tipped off somebody high up. Somebody who had the power to protect Wu—at any cost. Now both Chief Inspector Chen and he were practically suspended.
    Outside the sun was passing behind heavy clouds. Yu hoped that he would still get a phone call from Chen. It was late, and nobody else was in the large office. He turned off the electric cup, a gift from the First Department Store, which the manager had given him in gratitude for his work on the case. At the moment, it served as an ironic reminder.
    Forty-five minutes later, Yu remained sitting doggedly at his desk, with a piece of blank paper in front of him, a reflection of his mind.
    The telephone started ringing. He snatched it off the hook with an uncharacteristic eagerness.
    “Special case squad.”
    “Hello, I want to speak to Detective Yu Guangming.”
    It was a stranger speaking with a gurgling voice.
    “Speaking. This is he.”
    “My name is Yang Shuhui. I work at Shanghai Number Sixty-three Gas Station in Qingpu County. I think I have some information for you.”
    “What kind of information?”
    “The information your squad has offered a reward for.”
    “Hold on.” Yu immediately became alert. There was only one case in which he had offered a reward. “About the corpse in the canal, right?”
    “Yes, that’s it. Sorry, I forget the case number.”
    “Listen, Comrade Yang, I happen to be on my way out, but I would like to meet you today. Tell me where you are right now.”
    “At home, near the Big World, on Huangpi Road.”
    “Good, I have to pick up something at Jingling Market, not too far from there. There is a Hunan restaurant on the corner of Xizhuang Road. Yueyang Pavilion, that’s the name, I think. If you can be there in about forty-five minutes, we will see each other.”
    “Is the offer of a reward still good?” Yang asked. “It’s been some time. I happened to read about it in the old newspaper today.”
    “Yes, three hundred Yuan. Not a cent less. And your telephone number?” Yu added almost automatically. “Oh, well, don’t worry. We’ll meet, I’m leaving right now.”
    At the bureau gate, the old doorman Comrade Liang reached out to him with an envelope in his hand. “Got something for you.”
    “For me?”
    “This morning Chief Inspector Chen received his assignment package here. There were some tickets along with the schedule. Some extra tickets, in case some others wanted to join the group at the last minute, but no one did. So he left two Beijing Opera tickets for me, and two karaoke tickets for you.”
    “The Shanghai Foreign Liaison Office spared no expense arranging activities for the Americans,” he said. “It’s very considerate of him.”
    “Yes, Chief Inspector Chen is a really decent man.” Comrade Liang then said. “You are his assistant, and you have your work cut out for you.”
    “Yes, I know. Thank you, Comrade Liang.”
    Putting the tickets in his pocket, Yu hurried toward the restaurant.
    The meeting with comrade Yang turned out to be more fruitful than Yu had expected. After interviewing this witness for more than one hour, and taping his testimony on a micro-cassette recorder, he thought of one of Old Hunter’s favorite old Chinese sayings: “The god’s net has large