Death of a Red Heroine

W. B. Yeats,” Rosenthal said. “He was no statesman, but his passion for the Irish freedom movement informed his best poetry.”
    “Or his passion for Maud Gonne, the political woman Yeats loved so,” Vicky cut in. “I’m very familiar with William’s favorite theory.”
    They laughed together.
    Then he caught sight of a pay phone by the door.
    He excused himself, went over, and picked up a directory attached to the phone. Thumbing through the pages, he found the Four Seas Restaurant, and dialed Peiqin’s number.
    “Peiqin, it’s Chen Cao. Sorry to call you at your work. I cannot locate Yu.”
    “You don’t have to apologize to me, Chief Inspector Chen,”
    she said. “We’re all so concerned about you. How are things going?”
    “Fine. Busy with the American delegation.”
    “Visiting one place after another?”
    “Exactly. And dining in one restaurant after another, too. How is your husband?”
    “As busy as you are. He, too, says it’s difficult to reach you.”
    “Yes, it can be difficult. If necessary, he—or you, perhaps, if convenient—may contact a friend of mine. His name is Lu Tonghao. He runs a new restaurant called Moscow Suburb on Shanxi Road. Or he will contact you.”
    “That’s fine. Moscow Suburb, I know where it is. It’s been open for a couple of weeks, and it has made a stir already.” She added, “By the way, will you be at Xishuang Garden this evening?”
    “Yes, but how—” Chen cut himself short.
    “It’s a fantastic place,” Peiqin said. “and you deserve to take a break at the karaoke party.”
    “Thank you.”
    “So take care of yourself. See you.”
    “The same with you. Bye.”
    He became suddenly alert. The way Peiqin mentioned the karaoke party disturbed him. Also, why was she anxious to end the conversation? Was her office bugged, too?
    That was not likely. But the hotel might well be. That was why he had not called from there. Peiqin must have wondered. He should have mentioned that he was calling from a pay phone in the City God’s Temple Market.
    Then he dialed Overseas Chinese Lu.
    Lu had called the office upon Chen’s return from Guangzhou. In order not to drag Lu into his trouble, he had cut Lu short on the grounds of having to leave immediately. They could not speak safely on the bureau phone.
    “Moscow Suburb.”
    “It’s me, Chen Cao.”
    “Oh, old pal, you’ve really got me worried to death. I know why you hung up on me the other day.”
    “Don’t worry. I’m still chief inspector. There’s nothing to worry about.”
    “Where are you now? What’s the noise in the background?”
    “I’m calling from a pay phone in the City God’s Temple Market.”
    “Wang has called me about your trouble. It’s serious, she said.”
    “Wang called you?” he said. “Well, whatever she may have told you, it’s not that serious. I’ve just had a wonderful brunch with the Americans, and we’re going to enjoy a cruise on the river. First-class cabin, of course, with the American guests. But I do need to ask you a favor.”
    “What is it?”
    “Somebody, actually my partner’s wife, her name is Jin Peiqin, may contact you. She works at the Four Seas Restaurant.”
    “I know the place. Their shrimp noodles are excellent.”
    “Don’t call me, either at my office or at the hotel. If there is anything urgent, call her or go to her place. You may as well have a bowl of noodles while you are there.”
    “Don’t worry,” Lu said. “I’m a well-known connoisseur. No one would say anything if I had my noodles there every day.”
    “One cannot be too careful.”
    “I understand.” Lu then added, “But can you come over to my place? I want to discuss something with you. Something important.”
    “Really? I’ve been so busy the last few days,” he said. “I’ll check my schedule and see what I can do.”
    The scheduled afternoon activity was the Huangpu River cruise.
    Chen was familiar with the cruise, having served as an escort on a number of occasions. He had no objection to reciting passages from official guidebooks, which he saw as an opportunity for practicing his English. It was just that the activities on the schedule became increasingly boring with repetition. He had no complaint, however, about his escort status at the booking station, where people were standing in a long line. His cruise tickets were reserved at a small ticket window marked FOR FOREIGN TOURISTS.
    As they stood on the dock, breathing in the polluted air,