The Mao Case

book inside:
The Waste Land: A Facsimile and Transcript of the Original Draft Including the Annotations of Ezra Pound.
There was no note enclosed.
    It was a book about the writing of T. S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land,” containing the manuscripts with the changes made by Eliot
     and by Pound and the marginal notes made at different stages. The book would shed light on the connection between Eliot’s
     personal life and his “impersonal” work, Chen contemplated, as he leafed through a few pages.
    But it was not the time for him to sit down and read it. Nor was he in the mood. There’s nothing more accidental than the
     world of words. And ironical too. Had he gotten the book shortly after his college years, he would have used it in his translation
     of Eliot — possibly making it a better translation, which might have changed his career’s course. At the moment, however, in
     the midst of the Mao Case, it was irrelevant, and at best, it was only a consolation prize for having lost Ling — perhaps even
     less than that. She hadn’t totally forgotten about him, but it was like a footnote on a closed chapter.
    He was pondering the wording for a thank-you card when there
was another knock on the door. This time, it was a stranger standing there, reaching out his hand formally. He was a tall
     man with a serious-looking square face and broad shoulders, probably in his early forties. He produced a badge to show to
     Chen.
    “I’m Lieutenant Song Keqiang of Internal Security. Minister Huang called about your joining us in our investigation.”
    “Oh Lieutenant Song, I was going to contact you. Please come in,” Chen said. “I’ve just read the file. We need to talk about
     it.”
    “Well, all the basic information is in the file,” Song said, sitting on the chair Chen pulled out for him. “Do you have any
     questions, Chief Inspector Chen?”
    “About the Mao material — about whatever Shang left behind, I mean — have you any idea what it might be?”
    “Pictures, diaries, letters, anything is possible.”
    “I see. Is there anything new — anything that’s happened since the file was compiled?” Chen said, pouring a cup of water for
     the visitor. “Sorry, there is no tea left at home.”
    “Do you know about Xie’s ex-wife?”
    “I know he has an ex-wife. What about her?”
    “She has just come back. Last week, she met with Xie and then was seen sobbing in the garden.”
    “I know they are divorced, but was there anything suspicious about their meeting, Lieutenant Song?”
    “She cut all ties when she left China. There were no letters or phone calls for years. So why meet now?”
    “Well, with things between a husband and wife, who can tell? Xie’s worth something now, with his mansion and his collection,
     and they have no children. You know what I mean.”
    “It’s more than that. A couple of days ago, she brought a foreigner to the mansion. What for? We’ve also found out that she
     has booked a return ticket for two weeks from today.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “That means we have to conclude the investigation before she goes back to the States.”

    “So I only have two weeks?”
    “Less than two weeks, Chief Inspector Chen. If your approach does not work, we’ll need time to wrap it up our way.”
    Chen didn’t like Internal Security’s way. It was too easy for them to apply “tough measures” to Xie or Jiao using any available
     excuse. As a cop rather than Internal Security, Chen was disturbed, and not only about the possible consequences. But he didn’t
     want to confront Song during their first meeting. Internal Security might have every reason to be upset with Chen, since his
     assignment to the case was a challenge to their competence.
    “According to Minister Huang, you have suggested a point of entry for me — through Xie’s parties.”
    “Yes, with your English and poetry, you’ll be like a fish swimming in the water.”
    “You don’t have to say that, Lieutenant Song.” Aware of the sarcasm in Song’s comment, Chen retorted, “You must go to a lot
     of his parties too, like a dragon stranded in a shallow pool.”
    “We have someone who goes to them. If you want, you may go with him to the next party.”
    “Thank you, but I’ve already made a couple of phone calls about the party. I think I may go there by myself and meet your
     man there. What’s his name?”
    “So you are going by yourself? That’s great.” Song added without answering