Don’t Cry, Tai Lake

style.”
    “Well—”
    “A younger one was already waiting backstage in the dark before the old one exited.”
    “Oh, like in Hamlet .”
    “Exactly. They staged a Beijing opera of Hamlet several months ago at the university. It’s a universal story. Mi, too, carried on with someone else. When I was working in the office last summer, I saw something. It was none of my business, of course. But Father didn’t really trust her, he knew better.”
    Wenliang, of course, could be just another unreliable narrator, understandably biased against her, Chen mused.
    “You’re sure about that, Wenliang?”
    “I saw it with my own eyes. I wasn’t wind-chasing or shadow-catching, I can assure you,” he said broodingly. “It’s not a crime for a little secretary to carry on with the second-in-command behind the back of the boss. What could I have done? I hated to bring it up to my father, who might not have taken my word on it, and it could have been a huge scandal. One’s father being cuckolded isn’t something to be proud of, so why would I make up such a story?”
    “That’s true…”
    With the sunlight streaming through the window, the chief inspector thought of what he’d heard over the last few days. They were mostly fragments, to which he hadn’t paid any real attention, such as the story of a younger man seen at night in the company of Mi, the fox spirit. Pieces such as the stories narrated by the two drinkers in the pub, or like the melodrama in the hotel on Nanjing Road, as reported by Detective Yu a short while ago.
    Now those pieces were beginning to connect, in a way he had never imagined.
    “Thank you so much, Wenliang. We’ll surely do our best to get justice for your—”
    He was almost finished with the sentence when Mrs. Liu opened the door and, with a sour expression on her face, stepped inside.
    “Oh, you’re here again, Mr. Chen.”
    “Yes. I’ve had a good talk with Wenliang, Mrs. Liu. Now, I have just one question for you. In early March, Liu came back from a business trip in Nanjing. He got back quite late that night, I’ve learned, so he might have woken you up when he came in. Do you remember anything about it?”
    “Yes, I do. He was coming back from a business meeting in Nanjing, and it was raining heavily that night. He took a taxi home.”
    “Can you remember the date?”
    “It was March, early March, I think. He apologized for waking me up, saying that because of something unexpected in Nanjing, he had to take the last train back to Wuxi,” she said contemplatively. “Oh, I remember, it was the day before the Women’s Day. He had bought me a gift for the holiday, which was the next day.”
    “Thank you so much, Mrs. Liu. You’ve really helped our investigation. And thank you too, Wenliang.” Chen stood up abruptly. “But now I have to leave.”

TWENTY-ONE
    SERGEANT HUANG WAS CONFOUNDED by Chief Inspector Chen’s request when the older detective called early Monday morning.
    “Bring Mi over to my place at the center. Immediately. You don’t have to give her any explanation, just let me do the talking. Once she’s here, then you can jump in and play your part when it’s appropriate.”
    They had talked to Mi once before in her office. Why did Chen need to talk to her again, and why at the center? Over the course of the investigation, Chen had mentioned her a couple of times, but not once had she come up as a suspect. It might be because of Mrs. Liu, Huang thought. But he didn’t believe that Mi had much more to tell. She would be the last one to cover up something for the widow.
    Nor did he think there was anything Chen could really do to alter the conclusion of the case. Internal Security had already gotten approval from Beijing to proceed. Still, Huang was eager to see if the legendary chief inspector would, like in those translated mysteries, be able to achieve the impossible at this late stage.
    Huang hurried over to the chemical company, where Mi was just leaving the office for a business meeting downtown. She looked surprised when Huang asked her to accompany him, but she complied without protest.
    The Cadre Recreation Center wasn’t far away, and she might not be as apprehensive about going there as she might be about visiting the police bureau.
    It took them less than ten minutes to get to the center. Security examined Huang’s badge and waved them both in.
    The white villa looked majestic standing on the hill, set off from the other buildings,