Red Mandarin Dress

are so resourceful. He is doing a great job at the traffic control committee.”
    “Now I remember, Chief Inspector Chen. You were the acting head of the traffic office, and you recommended him for the position. Old Hunter mentioned it to me,” Fan said, putting down his chopsticks. “You also mentioned someone in a steel mill?”
    “Yes, Tian of Shanghai Number One Steel Mill,” Chen said. “About the investigation, let me put it this way. Mei passed away a long time ago, but the exact circumstances of her death may throw light on another case involving people still alive, including Tian.”
    “But what can you do about something that happened during the Cultural Revolution? It’s a can of worms the government doesn’t want to open up.”
    “Confucius says, ‘You know that it is impossible to do, but as long as it is something you should do, you have to do it.’ ”
    “It’s not common for a young chief inspector to quote Confucius like that,” Fan said. “Do you really mean—”
    The phone rang again. This time, it was Old Hunter.
    “What’s up, Chief Inspector Chen?”
    “I have to ask another favor of you, Uncle Yu,” Chen said. “We are going to play our old trick again—like in the national model case, remember? I hate to bother you like that, but I can’t rely on those people in the bureau.”
    “A new case?”
    “I’ll explain the case to you later, but any responsibility for it will be mine.”
    “Come on. You don’t have to explain anything, Chief Inspector Chen. Whatever you want me to do, it’s not something against the conscience of a retired cop, that much I know. So go ahead and tell me: when and where?”
    “At this moment, I want you to hold yourself ready with a traffic violation ticket and a tow truck. Also, you’d better stay in the office for the day, so I can reach you there at any time.” He changed the topic abruptly. “Oh, I am talking with someone you know: Comrade Fan. Do you want to say hi to him?”
    “Hi, Old Hunter,” Fan said, taking the phone. “Yes, I’m talking with Chief Inspector Chen. You have worked with him, haven’t you?”
    For the next two or three minutes, Fan listened carefully, barely interrupting except for saying “yes” and nodding. With the phone volume turned up to the maximum, some words in Old Hunter’s excited voice were indistinctly audible, possibly telling Fan his opinion of the chief inspector. Possibly positive. But Fan remained cautious, speaking only single words or fragmented phrases instead of sentences.
    Fan finally said, “I will, of course. I owe you a big one, Old Hunter.”
    The waiter came back to the table, carrying over two big bowls of mo in the steaming hot mutton soup, the mo golden against red soup with chopped green onion. The sight of it drove away the lingering chill of the night.
    “Old Hunter and I have been cops all our lives,” Fan said, raising his chopsticks. “After over thirty years on the force, we remain at the bottom. You know Old Hunter well. An able, conscientious cop. Just because he’s incapable of doing things against his conscience, he’s a failure professionally. I may not be as able, but I, too, have held to my principles.”
    “Confucius says,” Chen said, “‘There are things you do, and things you do not do.’ It’s not easy to be a cop.”
    “Your father was a Confucian scholar, Old Hunter just told me. No wonder,” Fan said, putting down his chopsticks. “Many years ago, I worked with Old Hunter on a homicide case. I got into big trouble, and he saved me. Suffice it to say that it was something I did on principle, which I never regretted. As a result, I was reassigned as a neighborhood cop. It was a huge setback for a young officer, but without his help, I could have ended up in one of those labor camps. Now that he’s told me what kind of a man you are, I don’t think I need to be concerned anymore.”
    “Thank you for telling me all this. But what are you concerned about, Comrade Fan?”
    “About some aspects of her death. I didn’t go into detail regarding them because—” Fan cleared his throat. “Because an old man’s memory may not be that reliable. After all, it happened so many years ago.”
    Memory could always serve as a face-saving excuse. The change came from his comradeship with Old Hunter, Chen guessed.
    “Also because I didn’t know what you are really looking for,” Fan went on. “I didn’t want her memories to be dragged again