Don’t Cry, Tai Lake

with its stainless-steel fence glittering in the morning light and an armed guard standing in front. Huang had heard that Chen enjoyed extraordinary status as a cadre who was rising fast, but he was still more than impressed. The villa was one of the most magnificent buildings in the center, standing out against other buildings designed for the use of high-ranking cadres.
    “Sergeant Huang?” the guard said. “Comrade Chief Inspector Chen is waiting for you inside.”
    “Comrade Chief Inspector Chen?” Mi murmured uncomfortably. “In the villa here?”
    Huang took this as a cue that Chen wanted his true identity revealed instead of simply passing himself off as Huang’s colleague.
    “He’s somebody,” Huang said vaguely, not sure if it would have the effect Chen wanted to produce.
    As they stepped into the spacious living room, Huang saw a gray-haired man sitting with Chen on the leather sectional sofa, with a bouquet of carnations arranged in a crystal vase on the marble coffee table in front of them.
    “This is Comrade Qiao, the director of the center,” Chen said without even standing up when they walked in.
    Huang knew of Qiao as a sort of local celebrity and had seen his picture in the newspapers. Mi must have met Qiao before, under different circumstances, and she couldn’t conceal her surprise at the sight of the two sitting together there.
    “Mi, let me introduce you,” Qiao said, standing up and grinning from ear to ear. “This is Chief Inspector Chen Cao. He is a special envoy from Beijing. Comrade Secretary Zhao, the retired head of the Central Party Discipline Committee, made several personal phone calls to arrange his vacation here. It’s an honor for us to have him stay at our center.”
    The way Qiao was talking was puzzling. In terms of cadre rank, Qiao’s was probably higher than Chen’s. There was no need for him to make such a show of obsequiousness. Nevertheless, Chen seemed to take it for granted.
    “It’s an honor for me to work under him,” Huang echoed, believing that the scene before him must have been arranged, even though he was unable to figure out for what purpose. Up until now Chen had made a point of keeping a low profile, and Huang had been his only contact with the investigation.
    “You’ve already met with Sergeant Huang, Mi. I don’t think you need any further introduction.” Chen added in a patronizing tone, “A capable young man, he serves as my local assistant.”
    “Why—I mean why?” she said, flustered, her glance shifting from one to another, before she settled on Qiao with an imploring look.
    Equally puzzled, Qiao shifted awkwardly on the sofa, glancing sideways at Chen without knowing what to say.
    “You may leave us now, Director Qiao,” Chen said curtly. “Please see to it that we are not disturbed.”
    “Of course, I’ll make sure of that, Chief Inspector Chen. If there is anything else I can do for you, just let me know,” Qiao said, bowing his way out. “The center is at your service.”
    Signaling Huang to pull a chair over for her, Chen didn’t start speaking at once. He took a cigarette out of an embossed silver case, lit it, and waved the match repeatedly in the air before dropping it into the crystal ashtray. Huang stood beside him, keeping his back as straight as a bamboo pole.
    An oppressive silence was building up in the room.
    “Oh, you sit down too,” Chen said, patting the sofa for Huang.
    Huang seated himself on the sofa edge beside Chen, like a respectful subordinate, and didn’t say a single word.
    Finally, Mi couldn’t stand it anymore and blurted out nervously,
    “What do you want from me?”
    “Well, I’m not just a cop, I’m also a poet,” Chen said deliberately, not responding to her question. He handed her two business cards. “You know what? The first time I saw you at your company, I was reminded of an ancient line: ‘ Even I cannot help taking pity on such a beauty .’”
    It sounded flirtatious, but it wasn’t, Huang knew. Rather, it came across as a serious warning.
    “I don’t know what you are talking about, Chief—”
    “Chief Inspector Chen,” Huang said, stealing a glance at the business cards in her hand. While the first one stated Chen’s position with the Shanghai police, the second one represented him as a member of the Chinese Writers’ Association and of the Shanghai People’s Congress.
    “My vacation here is only a pretext,” Chen said. “You should be able to guess why I