When Red is Black

murderer could have intended to burglarize her room, but panicked when she came back early and interrupted him. You discussed this with Old Liang, I remember.”
     
    “That’s possible. But was she a likely burglary target? Everybody knew she was not a rich businesswoman. And the contents of her safe deposit box have proven that.”
     
    “Well, she had made a trip to Hong Kong. Someone might have imagined she was wealthy just on the basis of that.”
     
    “As for her Hong Kong visit,” Yu said, “I contacted Internal Security, hoping they could give me some information. You know what? They shut the door right in my face.”
     
    “Well, Internal Security. What can I possibly say?” Chen commented as he peeled the shrimp with his fingers. “It’s not easy for anyone to get them to cooperate. “
     
    “They are the cops of the cops. I understand. But in such a case, they should help—in the interests of the Party or whatever. Their attitude does not make sense,” Yu said, as he put a green soya bean into his mouth, “unless they have something to hide from us.”
     
    “I hope not, but what they do often makes sense only to themselves. You never know; they may have their own interests in the case,” Chen said. “Have I ever told you about my earliest encounter with them?”
     
    “No, you haven’t.”
     
    “It was in my college years in Beijing. I published a few poems, and made several pen pals. One day, one of them invited me to his home, and a guest there brought an American poet with him. On that day we talked of nothing but poetry, but the next day Party Secretary Fuyan of the English department summoned me to his office.”
     
    “What did he say to you, Chief?”
     
    ‘“You are young and inexperienced, and we trust you, but you have to be more careful. Don’t be so naive as to believe that the Americans like our literature for literature’s sake,’” Chen repeated. “I was confounded. Then I realized he must be referring to the poetry discussion the day before. How could people have reported it so quickly? Years later, I found out that it was the work of Internal Security. I was lucky because the university dean did not want the image of the university tarnished by having one of his students put on the blacklist, so he worked out a deal with Internal Security.”
     
    “That’s outrageous! Their arms reach everywhere.”
     
    “So don’t worry about their refusal to cooperate. We may still be able to find out something indirectly. Let me make a couple of phone calls.”
     
    “That would be great.”
     
    The noodles arrived, the soup almost red with dried pepper, strewn with chopped green onion, the tripe done to just the right degree, quite chewy, a welcome contrast to the crisp texture of the noodles. It was a pleasant surprise for such a small family restaurant. The hostess stood beside their table, beaming, as if waiting for their approval.
     
    “Wonderful food,” Chen said, “and wonderful service, too.”
     
    “We hope you will come back, Boss,” the hostess said with a bright smile, bowing slightly before she moved on to another table.
     
    That was another new term of address. Not that new, perhaps. Before 1949, people had used this term, and it was staging a comeback.
     
    “It’s their own business,” Yu said, “a private business. Of course they want to please their customers, who are their bosses.”
     
    “That’s true.”
     
    “By the way,” Yu asked, the noodles hanging like a waterfall from his chopsticks, “is Old Half Place also a good restaurant?”
     
    “A very good one, especially known for the noodles they serve early in the morning. Why?”
     
    “Mr. Ren, a resident who is on the suspect list, told me that he goes there two or three times a week, and he calls himself a ‘frugal gourmet.’”
     
    “Frugal gourmet. Great, I like it,” Chen said. “Yes, Old Half Place has a lot of regular customers early in the morning, every morning. It’s almost like their ritual.”
     
    “Why?”
     
    “You have asked the right man. I happen to have read about this restaurant. The chef there plunges noodles into boiling water in an extremely large pot, so the noodles acquire a special crisp texture. But the water soon turns thick with starch and then the noodles lose this texture. It’s not easy to change the water in such a large pot. Instead, the chef just adds more cold water, but that’s not really good. Gourmets believe that the