When Red is Black

knows that. It’s just a game in which you have to put a little money down, otherwise it is no fun.
     
    “But I was sentenced in the early seventies for gambling. So if I told Old Liang about it, he would have made a big fuss. In fact, he threatened to put me back in jail if he ever caught me betting on cricket fights in the lane.”
     
    “I see. Mah-jongg or cricket fights, they won’t do you any good.”
     
    “I give you my word, Comrade Detective Yu. I won’t waste this second chance. If my hand ever touches crickets or mah-jongg again, I swear to old heaven, may cancers grow all over my fingers. Believe me.”
     
    “Okay. Then I have just one more question for you,” Yu said. “While you were in custody, Wan suddenly came forward, taking responsibility for a crime that had nothing to do with him. Do you have any idea why he did that?”
     
    “It beats me. He may have lost his mind, for all I know or care. As a matter of fact, we had a fight not too long ago.”
     
    “Was the fight about your family’s support?”
     
    “Wan has no idea how much I give Xiuzhen’s family each month. And it’s none of his business either. That ugly old toad simply dreams of devouring the white swan.”
     
    “What do you mean by that, Cai?”
     
    “The way he looks at Lindi speaks volumes. He wants to please Lindi, but he has utterly lost his mind. He should pee on the ground and see his reflection in the pool.”
     
    “Well—” Detective Yu remembered the scene of Wan sitting on a bamboo stool in the courtyard, doing nothing, watching while Lindi cut the spiral shells. “But I still do not see why he claimed that he was the murderer.”
     
    “I have no clue,” Cai said.
     
    “Mr. Cai, I have just put the turtle into the steamer,” Peiqin said in a loud voice from the kitchen area. “It took me a while to clean such a huge one. Please stay for dinner. The turtle will take just a little longer.”
     
    “Thank you, Peiqin, but I’m afraid I have to leave. Xiuzhen will be worried if I don’t come back for dinner,” Cai said. “If there is anything I can do for you, Comrade Detective Yu, let me know. I will do my best, like a horse or a dog.”
     
    Yu and Peiqin walked out with Cai to the lane exit.
     
    “We have to wait a little while longer,” Peiqin told Yu. “The coal briquettes I made last week do not burn very well. It will take time to steam the turtle.” She wiped her hand on her apron, which bore fresh bloodstains.
     
    “Oh, have you cut your hand?”
     
    “No, those spots are turtle blood. Don’t worry.”
     
    He didn’t know how long he would have to wait. He was a bit hungry. He phoned Mr. Ren to thank him sincerely for his tip about Wan, and then mentioned Cai’s comment regarding the ex-Mao Zedong Thought Propaganda Worker Team Member.
     
    “I’ve not heard anything about Wan and Lindi,” Mr. Ren said. “People do not talk to me that much. But there’s no ripple without a breeze: one evening several months ago, I saw Wan pushing a bulging envelope into her hands.”
     
    “Do you think Wan confessed for the sake of Lindi?”
     
    “Well, Cai is the main support of the whole family. If Cai were sentenced and executed, the whole family would be ruined. So it could have been an act of romantic self-sacrifice—a rather twisted notion of it,” Mr. Ren said thoughtfully. “But I am not so sure. Wan is a bitterly disappointed old man. All the changes in today’s society may be too much for him.
     
    “I can understand. In the early fifties, when my company had been taken away, together with the shikumen house, I thought it was the end of the world. I hung on because of my children. Wan is all alone here. For him, this might have seemed to be a good opportunity to end his agony in a politically dignified way, and at the same time make a last noble gesture to Lindi.”
     
    “Yes, that makes sense now.”
     
    “I’m so pleased with outcome of your investigation, Comrade Detective Yu. The real criminal has been caught. That is what justice is about,” Mr. Ren said. “By the way, the sticky rice cake at Peiqin’s place, Four Seas, is super. I went there yesterday. You know what, I must have met her father forty years ago. Indeed, in this world of red dust, things may be predestined.”
     
    “I’m really glad we met you.”
     
    “Next time, I’ll bring half a pound of xiao pork to her restaurant. You keep it in the refrigerator. You don’t have to go to