Red Mandarin Dress

security.
    “Did you anticipate such an ending, Chief?” Yu asked, straight to the point.
    “No,” Chen said, taken aback by the sharpness of the question from his longtime partner. “Not exactly. Not like that.”
    But it was a turn he could have foreseen. And he should have. Facing trial for the serial murder, with the skeletons of his family history exposed, with the picture of his mother’s naked body unearthed, with the stories of her sex scandal examined, with the Oedipus complex exaggerated, Chen himself wouldn’t have hesitated to choose the same exit Jia had.
    Chen wondered about Yu’s reaction. Yu might suspect Chen of having acted out of his bookish consideration, of giving in to the last appeal made by Jia last night. After all, giving a fatally wounded soldier the opportunity to kill himself was a time-honored tradition. It wasn’t exactly true, but Yu didn’t know everything.
    “Those checks are a large sum,” Yu said sarcastically, “but of course the money was meaningless to him.”
    Jia’s last act also spoke for his contrition. Jia wasn’t a delusional killer, as Chen had maintained. In his heart, Jia knew what he did was wrong. The checks made a large sum—Jia’s way of offering compensation, though as he had just said in his statement, that’s no justice .
    But there was something more to it. It pleaded for leniency in a message the chief inspector alone could grasp. It was as if he was pushing the credit over to Chen, though it was a huge gamble for Jia. If Chen were not a man of his word, he could take credit for solving the murder case and still go ahead with the publication of his sensational story with all those pictures. Jia’s signed checks implied his unconditional trust in Chen. As in an ancient battle, a dying soldier gave himself to his opponent whom he respected.
    Chen, knowing he was trapped, broke out in a cold sweat.
    “Jia didn’t have to do that,” Chen said finally. “He’s too clever not to know the consequences. These checks sealed his crime. He did it as a way of appealing to me: he kept his word to cooperate, so now it’s up to me to keep my word.”
    “What word?” Yu said. “So you’ll start writing the case report, Chief?”
    Indeed, what about the case report?
    The Party authorities would push for an explanation. As a Party member police officer, he could hardly say no. And the story would have to come out.
    But they might not necessarily push for the whole truth, Chen thought, if he started throwing off hints about the Cultural Revolution background of the case. If he handled it right, they probably wouldn’t care too much about the mumbling vagueness of his explanation. Digging out the skeletons of history could backfire. So he might be able to trick the government into hushing up the details. Perhaps he could come up with a different story instead, acceptable to everyone. A blurred statement about the death of the serial murderer, hopefully, without even revealing his identity or the real cause. After all, whatever story he might produce, some people wouldn’t believe it. As long as there were no new victims in a red mandarin dress, the storm would blow over.
    “He got away too easily,” Yu pushed on, obviously upset by Chen’s silence. “Four victims, including Hong.”
    Yu hadn’t yet gotten over the death of Hong. Chen understood. But again, Yu didn’t know that much about Jia—or what was behind Jia’s case. Chen didn’t know if he would be able to explain everything to his partner.
    But about the case report, he thought he had a better idea. Why not push the credit to Yu, a great partner who was standing by him, as always, in spite of the unanswered questions?
    “But was there any other way out for him?” Chen said. “So, now you have to wrap up the case.”
    “Me?”
    “Yes, it was you that checked out the background of Jasmine, discovered the name in the short list of the Joy Gate, drew my attention to the part about Tian’s bad luck, and checked Tian’s history as a Mao member. Not to mention Peiqin’s contribution to the investigation. Her studies of the dress as an image inspired me.”
    “That’s not true, Chief. I may have explored along those lines, but I came up with nothing. It was on your order that I rechecked into Tian’s past—”
    “We don’t have to argue about that. As a matter of fact, you are doing me a favor. What explanation can I possibly give to the others?”
    “What do you