Death of a Red Heroine

investigation.”
    “Last time we talked, you made a point about Wu’s motive. A good point. It was missing, but we have found it now.”
    “What is it?”
    Chen produced several pictures from an envelope.
    “Pictures of Guan and Wu taken together—in bed. As well as of Wu with other women. They were concealed behind Comrade Deng Xiaoping’s portrait in Guan’s room.”
    “Damn!” The Party Secretary heaved a distressed sigh, but said nothing further in the face of such depravity.
    “Guan got hold of the pictures—in one way or another. Then she must have used them to blackmail Wu into divorcing his wife. The timing could not be worse for Wu. He’s at the top of the list for the position of acting Shanghai Culture Minister. At such a critical juncture, he could not allow any interference with his opportunity.”
    “I see your point,” Li said.
    “The committee member responsible for the promotion happens to be a comrade-in-arms of his late father-in-law’s, and his mother-in-law remains active in the Central Party Discipline Committee. So he had no choice, he could not afford a divorce.”
    “Yes, your analysis makes sense to me, I have to admit,” Li said, putting the pictures back into the envelope. “Still, Wu Xiaoming has a solid alibi, hasn’t he?”
    “Wu’s alibi was provided by his pal Guo Qiang, to help him out.”
    “That is possible, but an alibi is an alibi. What can you do?”
    “Bring Guo in,” Chen said. “We’ll make him tell the truth. At this stage, a search warrant is justified, and we may find more evidence at Wu’s home.”
    “Under normal circumstances, yes, these are possible options. But in the present political climate, it’s out of the question.”
    “So there’s nothing we can do?”
    “You’ve done a lot. It’s just that the situation is so complicated at the moment,” Li said. “Of course, that does not mean we cannot do anything. We have to proceed carefully. I will discuss it with some people.”
    “Yes, we are always discussing ,” Chen said, “but Wu’s applying for a visa to the United States at the very moment.”
    “Is that true?”
    “Yes,” Chen said. “Wu will get away while we are still discussing and discussing.”
    “No he won’t if he is guilty, Comrade Chief Inspector Chen,” Li said slowly. “But there’s something else I want to talk to you about first. It’s about your new assignment.”
    “Another assignment?”
    “There was an emergency meeting yesterday at the city government hall. About the traffic problem in Shanghai. Traffic, as Comrade Deng Xiaoping has pointed out, is one of the everyday concerns for our people. Now that more people have cars, with new construction going on everywhere and roads being blocked, the traffic situation is becoming a serious problem. Comrade Jia Wei, Director of the Shanghai Metropolitan Traffic Control Office, has been sick for a long time. We have to have someone young and energetic to fill such a position. So I recommended you.”
    “Me?”
    “Yes, all the people agreed with me. You’ve been appointed temporary acting director of Shanghai Metropolitan Traffic Control. It’s an important position. You will have several hundred people under your command.”
    Chen was confounded. It was a promotion, to all appearances. And to a position far beyond a chief inspector’s level. Normally, a cadre of tenth rank would be chosen for such a post. According to an old Chinese saying, his promotion to the position was like a carp jumping over a dragon gate. And it would also be highly lucrative. The latest fashion was for people to drive their own cars, to show their wealth, success, and social status. With more vehicles adding to traffic congestion, the city government had set up strict regulations about issuing vehicle licenses. As a result, license applicants had to pay a considerable “back door” amount in addition to the regular fee. Since most of the private car owners were upstarts, they were willing to pay to get their hands on the wheel. Bribery to traffic control officers had become an open secret.
    “I’m so overwhelmed,” Chen said, trying to gain time by resorting to political clichés. “I’m too young for such a position of heavy responsibility. And I have no experience—none whatever in the field.”
    “In the nineties, we are getting experience every day. Besides, why shouldn’t we use our young cadres?”
    “But I am still working on the Guan case—I am still