Death of a Red Heroine

everyday.”
    “But why are you asking me out all of a sudden?”
    “Why not? We deserve a break.”
    “It does not sound like you, Comrade Detective Yu, to enjoy a break in the middle of an investigation.”
    “Well, that’s exactly where we are, in the middle of it,” he said.
    “And that’s also why I want you to be there.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I want you to pass some information to Chief Inspector Chen. He may be there, too. It’s not a good idea for us to be seen together.”
    “So you are not inviting me out to a party,” she said, making no attempt to conceal her disappointment. “On the contrary, you are asking me to join your the investigation.”
    “I’m sorry, Peiqin,” Yu said, reaching out to touch her hair. “I know you are worried about me, but I want to say one thing for Chief Inspector Chen—and for myself, too. This is a case that really gives meaning to our job. In fact, Chen is ready to sacrifice his career for justice.”
    “I understand.” She took his hand. “Chief Inspector Chen shows his integrity as a police officer. So do you. Why apologize to me?”
    “If it upsets you so much, forget it, Peiqin. It may just be another lousy idea of mine. Perhaps it will be my last case. I should have listened to your advice earlier.”
    “Oh no,” she protested. “I just want to know what kind of information you want me to pass to him.”
    “Let me make one point clear: As soon as this case’s over, I’ll start looking for another job. A different job. Then I can have more time with you and Qinqin.”
    “Don’t think like that, Guangming. You’re doing a great job.”
    “I’ll tell you about the case, and then you can tell me if it’s really a great job or not.”
    So he started to tell her everything. When he came to the end of his account after half an hour, he reemphasized the necessity of exchanging information with Chen.
    “It’s a job worth your effort, and Chief Inspector Chen’s, too.”
    “Thank you, Peiqin.”
    “What shall I wear?”
    “Don’t worry about that. It’s a casual event.”
    “But I’ll come back home first. We may be out quite late. I need to prepare supper for Qinqin.”
    “Well, I have to go straight from the office. Not in my uniform, of course. We’ll see each other at the Xishuang Garden, but let’s pretend to be strangers there. Afterward we can meet outside.”
    “Oh, I see,” she said. “To be cautious, you should not go at all.”
    “No, I’d better be there, in case something unexpected happens to you, but I don’t think that’s likely.” He added after a pause, “I’m sorry to bring you into this.”
    “Don’t say that, Guangming,” she said, “If it’s for you, it’s for me, too.”

Chapter 31
    I t was the third day Chen had served as an escort to the American Writers’ Delegation.
    The visitors had come through an exchange program sponsored by the China–U.S. Distinguished Scholars Committee. William Rosenthal, a well-known professor, critic, and poet, was accompanied by his wife Vicky. Rosenthal’s position as chairman of the American association added weight to the visit. Shanghai was the last stop on their itinerary.
    At Jinjiang Hotel, Chen was assigned a room on the same floor as the Rosenthals. The American guests were staying in a luxurious suite. Chen’s was much smaller, but still elegant, a world of difference from the Writers’ Home in Guangzhou.
    Downstairs, he accompanied the American guests to choose souvenirs in the hotel gift shop.
    “I’m so glad I can talk to someone like you. That’s what our cultural exchange is about. Vicky, Mr. Chen has translated T. S. Eliot into Chinese,” Rosenthal said, turning to his wife, who was busy examining a pearl necklace. “Including ‘The Waste Land.’” Apparently Rosenthal knew of Chen’s literary background, but he seemed unaware of both his mystery translations and his police position.
    “In Beijing and Xi’an, the interpreters also spoke good English,” Vicky said, “but they knew little about literature. When Bill started quoting something, they were lost.”
    “I’m learning a lot from Professor Rosenthal,” Chen said, taking a schedule out of his pocket. “I’m afraid we have to leave the hotel now.”
    The schedule was packed full. Days before their arrival, the activities had been arranged in detail and faxed to the Foreign Liaison Office of the Shanghai Writers’ Association. Chen’s job was to follow the