Death of a Red Heroine

where his mother died a miserable death. Homeless, Wu and his sister were left struggling on the streets. No one dared to take care of them. For six or seven years he labored as an educated youth in Jiangxi Province. In 1974 he was allowed to move back to Qingpu County, Shanghai, on the grounds of his father’s poor health. In the late seventies, the old man was let out of jail, and rehabilitated—more or less symbolically, since he no longer had the strength for his office. Wu Xiaoming, too, had been assigned a good position. As a photographer for Red Star , he had access to the top Party leaders and made several trips abroad. With praiseworthy diligence, the report went on in some detail about Wu Xiaoming’s own family. Wu was married in Jiangxi province in his educated youth years. His wife, Liang Ju, was also from a high cadre family. They came back to Shanghai together. Liang had a job in the city government, but suffering from some serious neurosis, she stayed at home for several years. They had no children. As Wu Xiaoming had to take care of his father, he and his wife lived in his father’s mansion.
    In the part about Wu’s work, Yu found several pages of more recent date, the “cadre promotion background checkup” filled out by Wu’s current boss, Yang Ying. Wu was described as the magazine’s photo editor and “ace photographer,” who had produced several pictures of Comrade Deng Xiaoping in Shanghai. The report highlighted Wu’s dedication to his work. Wu had demonstrated his political commitment by giving up holidays to carry out special assignments. At the end of the report, Yang Ying gave his “full recommendation for a new important position.”
    When Yu finished reading, he found his cigarette totally burnt out in the ashtray.
    “Not much, eh?” Chen said.
    “Not much for us,” he said. “What will his new position be?”
    “I don’t know yet.”
    “So how shall we proceed with our investigation?”
    “A difficult investigation, even dangerous,” Chen said, “with Wu’s family connections. If we make one mistake, we’ll be in serious trouble. Politics.”
    “Politics or no politics. Do you have a choice?”
    “No, not as a cop.”
    “Then neither have I,” Yu said, standing up. “I am your assistant.”
    “Thank you, Comrade Detective Yu Guangming.”
    “You don’t have to say that.” Yu moved over to the cabinet and returned with a bottle of Yanghe. “We’re a team, aren’t we? Drink up. It’s a bottle I’ve saved for several years.”
    Yu and Chen drained their cups.
    In The Romance of Three Kingdoms , Yu remembered, the heroes would drink wine when vowing to share wealth and woe.
    “So we have to interview him,” Chen said, “as soon as possible.”
    “It may not be too good an idea to startle a snake by stirring the weeds. And possibly a poisonous snake,” Yu said, pouring himself another cup.
    “But it’s the route we must follow, if we make him our main suspect,” Chen said slowly. “Besides, Wu Xiaoming will get wind of our investigation one way or another.”
    “You’re right,” Yu said. “I’m not afraid of the snake’s bite, but I want to finish it at one blow.”
    “I know,” Chen said. “So when do you think we should act?”
    “Tomorrow,” Yu said. “We may be able to take him by surprise.”
    By the time Peiqin returned with Qinqin, Yu and Chen had finished the bottle of Yanghe and agreed on the steps they would take the following day.
    The dessert Peiqin had promised was an almond cake.
    Afterward, Yu and Peiqin accompanied Chen to the bus stop. Chen thanked them profusely before he boarded.
    “Was everything okay this evening?” Peiqin said, taking Yu’s arm.
    “Yes,” he said absentmindedly. “Everything.”
    But not quite everything.
    Once back, Peiqin started cleaning up the kitchen area. Yu moved out into the small courtyard, lighting another cigarette. Qinqin was already asleep. He did not like smoking in the room. The yard presented an unlovely sight—like a battlefield with each family trying to occupy the maximum space. He stared at the mound of coal briquettes, twenty at the bottom, fifteen above, and then seven at the top, confronting him like a large letter A.
    Another achievement of Peiqin’s.
    She had to carry all of them from a neighborhood coal store, to store them in the yard, and then, every day, to carry a briquette in her hands to the stove. In The Dream of the Red Chamber , Daiyu carried in her