The Mao Case

Detective Yu. It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Song, too, had approached Shang’s maid. “Anything or anybody seem suspicious?”
    “No. But our net was closing. Someone struck out in desperation.”
    “Someone” referred to Xie, Chen had no doubt about it. “Can I have a medical report about Song’s death?”
    “It’ll be delivered to you today, but since the murder happened in broad daylight, I don’t think there will be much for you
     to learn from the medical report.”
    “Let me go over the material one more time, and I’ll make a report to Beijing. We shouldn’t wait too long, but I don’t think
     we should rush to action.”

    “How long shall we wait, Chief Inspector Chen?”
    For Internal Security, it had been a harsh slap to the face. While Xie Mansion was under their close surveillance, the dead
     body of a young girl was discovered in its garden, and then the dead body of Song, the officer in charge of the investigation,
     was found in a side street nearby. They might consider themselves above the police, but with their comrade fallen in the line
     of duty, they were beside themselves, just like cops, crying for revenge. They couldn’t put it off anymore.
    “When you called me from the train,” Liu went on without getting a response from Chen, “we were dealing with a target.”
    “A new target?”
    As it turned out, one of Liu’s colleagues had seen Jiao meeting with Peng. They lost no time getting hold of Peng, and obtaining
     from him a full confession, which strengthened their determination to use “tough measures.”
    “Here is a tape of the interrogation,” Liu said, handing Chen a cassette tape. “We had no time for transcription.”
    Chen put the tape into the car tape player and listened. During the interrogation, Liu and his colleagues more or less fed
     him the answers, but they were probably also what Peng himself believed.
    It was a similar version to what Peng had told Yu, a scenario of Jiao having gotten the valuable antique left by Shang through
     her affair with Mao, but Peng was careful enough not to mention Mao by name. Nor did he say anything about Yu, which suggested
     that Peng must have continued blackmailing Jiao.
    “It’s so unfair,” Peng concluded in a wailing tone. “She got it all from Shang — from the Forbidden City. I should have my share…”
    His testimony was enough however, to get Jiao into trouble. “Selling state treasures” was a serious crime. Internal Security
     didn’t need another excuse.
    “With his testimony, we’re expecting a search warrant from Beijing,” Liu concluded. “We believe that whatever it is is at
     Xie’s place. Yang could have been killed because she saw something there. So could have Song.”

    Chen, too, had come to believe that Jiao had something, though it wasn’t likely to be the “palace treasure,” as Peng called
     it. But Chen had nothing with which to prevent Internal Security from taking action.
    Xie would crumble under their pressure. But would Jiao cooperate? If not, would what had happened to Shang happen to Jiao
     today? To obtain their goal, Internal Security would stop at nothing. Chen saw no point, however, in asking for more time
     from Liu, and said instead, “When do you think you can get the warrant?”
    “We’re reporting to Beijing this morning.”
    “Let me know when you get it.”
    “You don’t have to worry, Chief Inspector Chen,” Liu said, glancing at his watch. “Now I have to rush back to the office.”
    So that signified the end of their talk. Internal Security was going on ahead, regardless of Chen’s opposition. Liu didn’t
     even offer to give him a lift.
    “I have to make some phone calls too.” Chen pulled open the door and stepped out. “You know my number.”
    “I’ll call you.” Liu started driving out, rolling down the window for the first time, watching Chen head in another direction.

TWENTY-FIVE
    ABOUT FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, Chen arrived at Xie Mansion, and he pressed hard on the recently-fixed doorbell. He, too, wanted to shake things up.
    It took quite a while for Xie to appear at the door. He must have come from bed, wrapped in a scarlet silk pajama robe tied
     with a silk sash. For the first time, Xie really looked like an Old Dick.
    “I’ve just come back, Mr. Xie. Sorry to drop in like this. So many things have happened during the last few days. I’m worried
     about you.”
    “Yes, I’m worried too. Cops have been coming in and