Don’t Cry, Tai Lake

awestruck look on his face. “I really appreciate your trust in me, Chief Inspector Chen. I understand it’s highly confidential. I’ll do my best.”
    “Give me what additional information you may have about the case. In particular, has the final autopsy report come out yet?”
    “Yes, I’ll get you a copy too.”
    “Don’t mention Zhao or me to anybody,” Chen added in a hurry, reaching for the car door handle. “It’s a very delicate situation, but you’re capable of judging how to deal with it.”
    “Sure, I’ll follow your instructions.”
    “Then we’ll get to work, Sergeant Huang,” he said. “I’ll discuss the first step we’re going to take soon, but in the meantime, I’m going to write a report about it for Beijing.”

SIX
    ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, CHEN called Shanshan.
    “I tried to get hold of you yesterday, Shanshan. I called you several times, but without success.”
    “Something happened at the company. It turned out to be a false alarm,” she said. “But they didn’t let me go until the evening.”
    “What!” he said, acting surprised.
    Sergeant Huang had informed him that she’d been released the previous evening. How Huang had managed it, Chen didn’t ask, but Huang mentioned that Internal Security had shifted its attention to somebody surnamed Jiang, who had been feuding with Liu. In other words, Jiang was a more likely suspect. Still, Chen had become increasingly interested in the case, whether or not Shanshan was out of the woods.
    For one thing, Internal Security wouldn’t have intervened in a simple homicide case, even though Liu was an important man in Wuxi.
    “I’m glad that it was nothing but a false alarm. But I think you need to take a break, Shanshan.”
    “What is false or not false, I don’t know. And I am taking the day off.”
    “That’s good,” he went on. “How about an excursion around the lake today?”
    “We walked along the lake the day before yesterday, didn’t we, Mr. Chen?”
    “Well, had we but world enough, and time—”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Just a line from a poem by Andrew Marvell,” he said. “My vacation here is only for a week or so, you know. Since you’ve taken the day off, why not?”
    “You’re really persuasive.”
    “Good. We’ll do something to relieve shock.”
    “Relieve shock?”
    “Something fun, so your mind won’t dwell on the unpleasant experience. Tell you what: I haven’t yet taken a boat trip here. So let us go, you and I, drifting in a gondola.”
    “What a poetic tourist.” But she then said, unexpectedly, “Where shall we meet?”
    “How about under the bronze turtle statue in the park? I’ll be waiting for you there.”
    Soon, he found himself standing under the bronze turtle statue, leaning against the gnarled back of an old tree trunk. It was such a scenic park. The sun hung above the tilted eaves of an ancient lakeside pavilion, gilding the water with its reflections. A line of white ducks patrolled the bank nearby. He felt he could spend the day there—in her company.
    His gaze shifted toward the dock, which was as crowded and noisy as the day before. A large boat was chugging out. A young couple leaned against the white rail on the top deck, sharing one ice cream cone, beaming blissfully, as if nibbling at the world in their hands.
    He then saw Shanshan coming through a gourd-shaped stone gate, tripping across the meadow dappled in the shadow of a boxwood tree, and carrying a nylon string bag of bottled water. She was dressed for the occasion, wearing a lightweight maroon trench coat over a white strapless dress and white high heels.
    She was dressed for his company, he observed. Confucius says, A woman makes herself beautiful for the man who appreciates her . It wasn’t necessarily antifeminist, depending on the viewer’s perspective.
    “It can be windy on the lake,” she said, explaining her trench coat. Her smile was radiant. She shook hands with him, and her fingers felt wonderfully soft.
    Across the lake, a water bird took flight, swirling and soaring away into the distance. They started walking along the lake. It took them quite a while to find a boat they liked. Most tourists preferred the large, comfortable, modern-looking passenger ships or power boats, which were less expensive, costing only about ten yuan per person. But Chen had something different in mind.
    They finally settled on a mid-sized sampan with a tung-oiled canvas awning, under which there