Red Mandarin Dress

him?
    Was Jia pushing for a disastrous end for everyone? Such an option would be understandable for a man in his position. Possibly the last revenge, and the ultimate revenge too. In his mind, the Party authorities should have been held responsible for the Cultural Revolution. And for the government that was so anxious to wrap up this case with minimum political impact, having all the corrupt officials exposed, all the dirty politics examined, as Jia had threatened last night, would be disastrous.
    In the interest of the Party, Chen should try to stop Jia, but it was a closing statement, saying what should be said. So what should Chief Inspector Chen do?
    But Chen somehow didn’t believe Jia was really going to head far down that route. It was in their tacit understanding last night that nothing too dramatic would happen at the trial. Nothing like that from either side. If Jia wanted Chen to abide by his bargain, he himself had to do so. After all, Chen had those pictures. Jia must have taken the presence of Chen as a warning. Anything out of the way on Jia’s part would have its consequences. It involved her, not just him. Jia knew, Chen knew.
    It was like having swallowed a fly for the chief inspector to think that he had actually helped with the housing development case.
    And Chen couldn’t get rid of a sense of foreboding. Something wasn’t moving in the right direction. But what could that possibly be? He found his mind momentarily blank as he tried to put himself in Jia’s position.
    Jia must be thinking about what would happen after the trial. There was no exit for him; Jia knew that better than anybody else.
    How would Jia be able to face his fall? One of the most successful attorneys in the city, talking about justice all the time, and he had to face a trial in which he himself would be tried and convicted as a criminal, with a full confession signed in his own hand. Whatever defense he might be able to put up for himself, the result would be the same. Death, plus the worst humiliation imaginable.
    What’s more, it could still involve her. Even without those pictures, people would eventually dig out some details, if not all of them.
    But what different outcome could Jia strive for?
    Chen stopped himself from thinking further along those lines. You are no fish, so how can you know the way it thinks? Jia’s sick. That was what Chen had told Yu, and that was true.
    All of a sudden, Jia started coughing, his chest heaving in a spasm, a stained pallor masking his face.
    “Are you okay?” the judge said, anxious for Jia to finish his speech.
    “I am fine. Just an old problem,” Jia said.
    The judge hesitated before asking Jia to continue. It was too important a trial to be interrupted.
    “So I’m tempted to tell you a story in parallel to our case,” Jia resumed with renewed strength in his voice. “A story about what happened to a little boy during the Cultural Revolution. He lost his father, lost his home, and then in a most humiliating way, lost his mother he deeply loved. The experience totally traumatized him, like a small tree so stunted that it survives only in a twisted way. As the proverb says, ‘With a whole nest overturned, not a single egg will be left unbroken, though the crack may not be so visible.’ He grew up with the one and only purpose of seeking justice for his family. But when the Cultural Revolution was declared a well-meant mistake by Mao, a mistake understandable in the historical circumstances—he realized that it was a hopeless mission. So finally he decided to take justice into his own hands.
    “Of course, people are supposed to uphold justice not in their own hands but in a courtroom like this, we all understand. However, is there a court that prosecutes the crimes of the Cultural Revolution? Or will there ever be one?”
    Chen was about to stand up when Jia was seized with another outbreak of coughing, more violent this time, his face first purple, then ghastly white. His body began reeling.
    The courtroom was sunk deeply in silence.
    “Don’t worry. Just an old problem,” Jia managed to say before collapsing to the floor.
    “Is he sick?” Yu said with something more than astonishment on his face.
    Chen shook his head. It was not an old problem, he suspected. Something terribly wrong. A possibility presented itself, which he might have been trying to ignore until this moment.
    There could be a way out for Jia, though not that quick, not here, not like