Don’t Cry, Tai Lake

Jiang discussed with you selling state secrets abroad?”
    “How much has he made selling secrets?” Han pushed further.
    “Jiang told me nothing. We only went out a couple of times and then we parted, as I’ve already told you.”
    “I’ll tell you something! He’s going to be convicted and sentenced for the murderer of Liu. And you, too, will be punished as his accomplice.”
    “What are you talking about, Officers?”
    “Jiang blackmailed Liu using the state secrets you gave him, and then killed Liu when he refused to give in,” Ji said deliberately, each word pronounced in a serious, official way. “If you’re not an accomplice, then who the hell is?”
    By such logic, she was unquestionably involved, guilty no matter what explanation she offered. There was no use arguing about it.
    “And you called him after Liu’s murder,” Han chipped in. “Do you still claim that you had already broken up with him?”
    Her heart sank. What Chen had told her was all true: she had been under surveillance and her phone bugged for a long time, including her phone call to Jiang just a few days ago—the call he had not picked up.
    “Didn’t you tell Jiang about Liu’s schedule that night—that he was going to be at his home office?” Ji snarled. “You not only called him, you were also seen meeting with him near the company just the day before Liu’s murder.”
    “No, I didn’t,” she said emphatically. That was definitely not true.
    “You two met secretly in a small eatery close to the company. We know everything about you, Shanshan. The monkey cannot escape the palm of Buddha. You can be assured of that.”
    It dawned on her that it was Chen they were talking about, the time she met him at Uncle Wang’s place. There was actually a slight resemblance between Jiang and Chen.
    Whoever had been following her made a mistake. She decided, however, not to contradict them. Chen couldn’t be dragged into this mess, or she would never forgive herself.
    “But we are still willing to give you one more chance. Work with us, Shanshan,” Han said, tapping his cigarette into a makeshift ashtray in the non-smoking room. “Tell us what Jiang has done.”
    “But he’s confessed. You just told me he did,” she said, biting her lips. “Why do you need me?”
    “Don’t think you have a wise head, young woman, or you’ll wash your face with rueful tears all the day long. All the year long,” Ji snapped again. “And I’ll see to it personally.”
    “Now, you might think that you’ve got someone in the background who could help you out of this mess,” Han said in a more persuasive tone. “You’re wrong. In a murder case like this one, no one can possibly help you. If anything, you’ll make things worse by trying, and get him into trouble too, no matter how capable he might be. We are your only chance.”
    With one playing the red face, and the other, the white face, the two Internal Security officers had set up a subtle division of labor in their efforts to intimidate her. Their talk about this “someone in the background,” however, worried her more than anything else, even if they seemed not to be sure who he really was. Chen had been justified in taking all the precautions he had. If it weren’t for the newly purchased cell phone, his identity might have been revealed. But did Chen know that Internal Security was already aware of his existence and possibly of his interference?
    As for Jiang, she didn’t think they had anything solid on him. At least not yet. That was why they wanted her to cooperate.
    “Everything depends upon your attitude,” Ji concluded. “Use your brains, young woman.”
    “Attitude” meant whether or not she cooperated with Internal Security, and it was entirely up to their interpretation.
    “This is my cell number,” Han said, writing the number down on his business card and handing it to her. He stood up to open the door for her. “But we won’t wait long. Jiang will be convicted, with or without your cooperation. Working with us is in your own interest.”
    She hardly knew how she walked out of the hotel on her own.
    She must have wandered, her legs moving mechanically, her mind a total blank, for a long while until she noticed that she was walking along a narrow, nameless trail that skirted the lake. The willow shoots looked long, tender, yet sorrowful. The hotel behind her wasn’t visible. She slowed down to a stop and stared out at the lake. Her reflection in