Don’t Cry, Tai Lake

Liu arranged an internship for him at the company last year, and talked to me about his plan to get him a good position there.”
    “He was a really good father,” Chen said, echoing her implied meaning.
    The conversation seemed to be leading nowhere. She spoke cautiously, defending her late husband’s image. As a result, she gave up very little. Huang thought that Chen exchanged a glance with him.
    “So, the evening of last Saturday, you were with some friends in Shanghai, weren’t you?”
    “Yes, I was there with several friends.”
    “Where were you the next morning?”
    “I was at a church in Shanghai, also with a friend.”
    “Which one?”
    “Moore Memorial Church. Why are you asking?”
    “Oh, the one at the intersection of Xizang and Hankou Road. I know it. I’ve been reading a book about the Protestant influence on the development of capitalism.”
    Mrs. Liu looked confounded. So did Huang.
    “Well, our church is Methodist.”
    “Last Sunday evening, what were you doing?”
    “I was also with my friends. I’ve told your colleagues about them.”
    “Who else do you think might know about his schedule that evening?” Chen went on, unruffled.
    “How would I know?”
    “For instance, perhaps people who worked for him at the office?”
    “What about Mi, the secretary?” Huang chipped in, picking up the cue from Chen.
    “I don’t want to talk about her,” Mrs. Liu said, the lines hardening on her brow.
    Chen didn’t push, waiting patiently, letting a silence build up in the living room.
    “You should have talked to her,” she finally said.
    “Oh, by the way,” Huang said, “Mi was named office chief today. That’s quite a promotion for her.”
    “She’s a shameless slut, I’m telling you,” Mrs. Liu snapped. “She has only a middle school education. How could she possibly be qualified to be the head of the office staff?”
    “Well, she’s been Liu’s confidential secretary for a long time,” Chen said. “He, too, must have trusted her.”
    “She was nothing to him. She cares for nothing but money, he told me. How could she have been promoted so quickly? The whole world is turned upside down!”
    It would have been hard for her to say anything more explicit. After all, it was Liu who made her a secretary in the first place. It was little wonder that Mrs. Liu got so upset with her being promoted so shortly after Liu’s death. It might be nothing but a gesture, however, on the part of Fu, the new general manager. Perhaps he was appeasing Liu’s staff, before he started building his own power base.
    Huang’s cell phone rang, and he checked the number. It was the head of his team, and the call was marked urgent. He had to pick up. So he excused himself and left the living room. He hurried out of the house, closing the front door, but leaving it unlocked. It wouldn’t do for him to talk in Mrs. Liu’s presence.
    The call was a long one about the latest developments in the investigation. Another move had been initiated under pressure from Internal Security. Huang frowned, listening, and said little in response.
    When he made his way back to the living room, Chen was still conversing with Mrs. Liu. Huang had no idea what the two had talked about during his absence, but she looked cantankerous.
    Presently, Chen rose and said that he had to leave. Huang echoed this without further ado.
    She showed them the door curtly and banged it closed behind them.
    They walked in silence for several minutes, each lost in his own thoughts. Chen had learned little from the talk with Mrs. Liu, Huang supposed, and that wasn’t too surprising. After all, what would be her motive to reveal anything?
    “How about a drink in Li Park?” Huang said, wiping sweat from his face. It was a warm day.
    “Yes,” Chen said. “We need to eat too. It’s quite late. Let’s find a good place in the park.”
    That was another characteristic of the enigmatic chief inspector Huang had heard about. Chen was an impossible epicurean with an unfailing appetite even in the midst of a homicide investigation. Still, Huang suspected that Chen wanted to discuss something with him. It was quite late in the afternoon, so there wouldn’t be too many tourists in the park.
    They entered the park and instead of heading to an antique-style restaurant tucked behind a verdant bamboo groove close to the entrance, Chen chose a shabby food stall near the foot of a barren hill. He ordered two lunch boxes with Wuxi-style ribs