When Red is Black

is a man who cannot afford to lose face. It’s terribly humiliating for an ex-Mao Zedong Thought Propaganda Worker Team Member to end up being a train ticket scalper. So he told the neighbors he practiced tai chi in the morning.
     
    “A Propaganda Member could be as relentless as a Red Guard during those years, but I have no personal grudge against them. No one should be wronged, Wan or anybody else, just to conclude a murder investigation.”
     
    “Thank you so much, Mr. Ren. This is a real breakthrough.”
     
    Yu was now convinced that Wan was not the murderer. But this did not mean that he could throw out Wan’s confession. He would have to have another discussion with Party Secretary Li.
     
    It had turned out to be a more interesting breakfast than Detective Yu had expected.
     
    * * * *
     

Chapter 19
     
     
    C
    hief Inspector Chen’s morning was again punctuated by phone calls.
     
    The first was from Detective Yu. Yu recounted for Chen the “breakfast discovery” he’d made earlier at Old Half Place.
     
    “The case against Wan has too many holes,” Yu said. “I cannot conclude my investigation yet.”
     
    “You don’t have to.” Chen added, “We don’t have to.”
     
    “But Party Secretary Li is in a great hurry to do so.”
     
    “Don’t worry, I’ll call him.”
     
    “What will you say?”
     
    “Well, isn’t Comrade Wan himself a political symbol? A Mao Zedong Thought Propaganda Member during the Cultural Revolution, and a murderer in the nineties? Party Secretary Li will not like it.”
     
    “So you are piercing his shield with his own lance, so to speak.”
     
    “Exactly,” Chen said, catching the note of excitement in Yu’s voice. This was a card he knew how to play. “Hoisting him with his own petard. I’ll discuss this with Party Secretary Li.”
     
    Chen brewed himself a pot of tea. Before he finished the first cup, as he was chewing a tender green tea leaf and preparing his speech to Party Secretary Li, the phone rang again.
     
    The caller was a nurse at Renji Hospital. His mother needed to be hospitalized for a test in connection with her stomach trouble. According to the nurse, the doctor was very concerned.
     
    This news came at an untimely juncture. Apart from the new development in the investigation, he was also putting on a final spurt to complete the translation. He had made a promise to Gu. Time mattered for the New World, he knew. For a moment he wished he had not accepted the project which interfered with his responsibilities as a cop, and now as a son.
     
    Still, there was also some benefit to working on the translation. The hospital demanded a deposit before a patient would be admitted. The advance would come in handy now, as it was more than enough to cover the deposit.
     
    Of course, he could have made a couple of phone calls to his “connections.” His mother might have been admitted then without the deposit. He chose not to do so; now at least he had a choice.
     
    This was another aspect of China’s economic reform that he did not like. What about those who could not pay the deposit and had no connections? There should be a touch of humanity in the management of a hospital.
     
    Everyone looked for the money in the nineties. Xiang Qian Kan, Look to the future, the revolutionary political slogan, was cruelly parodied, as qian could mean money as well as the future. In the market economy, hospitals made no exception. Doctors and nurses were human too. Their own incomes depended upon the hospital’s profit.
     
    While he was still talking with the nurse on the phone, White Cloud came into the room.
     
    “My mother has to be admitted to a hospital for a test as an inpatient,” he said as he put down the receiver.
     
    “Hospitals make a point of doing tests now. The test may not even be necessary, but the hospital will collect a large fee for it. They like to make money,” White Cloud said. “Don’t worry too much, Chief Inspector Chen.”
     
    “That may be true. Thank you,” he replied.
     
    He, too, wondered why this test required that his mother be hospitalized. She had been complaining about her stomach trouble for years. No one had said it was so serious.
     
    “Let me go to the hospital for you this morning to deliver the admission money, to make any necessary arrangements, and to keep your mother company. It’s really up to me—as your little secretary. Call me any time if you have questions. You have my cell phone