When Red is Black

said. “Have you discovered anything that might interest Internal Security?”
     
    “No,” Chen said. Of course, he would have denied it even if he had found something. “That’s why I asked you the question.”
     
    “The ministry in Beijing has called us, too. Minister Huang has a high opinion of you, you know. Since you have given a lot of thought to the case, what about your taking it over?”
     
    “No, Party Secretary Li. My mother is in the hospital. I’ve just gotten a phone call about it.”
     
    “I’m very sorry to hear that. Is there anything the bureau can do for you? You are still on your vacation. If necessary, you can take a few more days. Or we can send someone to the hospital to help. Have you any particular request?”
     
    “No, not at the moment. But thank you very much. And I will assist Detective Yu in whatever way I possibly can. I give you my word, Party Secretary Li.”
     
    For a while after this conversation, Chen found it hard to concentrate on the translation, but he finally managed. Not too long afterward, however, White Cloud called. Everything at the hospital had been taken care of, and his mother was not in any real danger. The doctor explained that they wanted to admit her to the hospital for the test because of her age. That seemed reassuring. So Chen went on revising the translation.
     
    Before lunch time, he dialed Yu’s home number, but it was Peiqin who answered the phone. It was just as well; he had questions for her too. After their last talk, he had obtained a copy of Death of a Chinese Professor, and tried to read as much as possible in the little time available. Peiqin had been right: the novel was uneven, with striking contrasts in style and content, so much so that it was difficult not to notice them.
     
    “I think you are right,” he said. “Yin may have plagiarized. Her source was probably not newspapers or bestsellers. Some parts of the novel are of high literary quality.”
     
    Peiqin said, “Some parts are far better written than others. But I cannot see the connection between her novel and the murder.”
     
    “Neither can I. If somebody—either the writer of the work she copied, or a reader—had discovered this, he could have contacted her or the media. In a similar case, I remember, the plaintiff sued for monetary compensation. But nothing could have been gained from killing her,” Chen said. “Have you discovered anything else, Peiqin?”
     
    “Nothing new,” she said, “except for one small point. As Yu must have told you, I have read a number of translations—I was a bookworm in my high school years. In a close reading, books translated into Chinese often read quite differently from those originally written in Chinese. Linguistically, I mean.”
     
    “That’s a very interesting point. Can you try to be a bit more specific, Peiqin?”
     
    “There are certain ways of putting a phrase or a sentence in one language that are changed in another. Sometimes even a word can be different. For instance, Chinese writers seldom if ever use the pronoun ‘it,’ and experienced translators like Yang are aware of this. But not so with third- or fourth-rate translators. Exotic expressions keep popping up in their texts. Perhaps there is nothing wrong with the meaning, but Chinese sentences should not read that way.”
     
    “You are right. Some paragraphs do not read smoothly; that’s my impression too. But I have not done as close a reading as you.”
     
    “There’s another example. Ten years ago, the word ‘privacy’ hardly existed in Chinese. If used at all, it was with a negative connotation—indecent or evil, incapable of being open and above-board. But in Death of a Chinese Professor, Yin used the word in a positive sense, like some fashionable young people use it today.”
     
    “Your English is really good, Peiqin!” he said. “Even today, some people would still use the word cautiously, because of its lingering negative connotation.”
     
    “No, don’t laugh at me, Chief Inspector Chen. I have to help Qinqin with his English homework, and he asked me how to translate ‘privacy’ into Chinese just a couple of weeks ago.”
     
    “You are perceptive, Peiqin. I have done translations, but I have paid little attention to such linguistic complexities.”
     
    “Oh, forgive me. This is really like an apprentice giving a lesson to Master Ban. I know you have done a lot of translations. But some paragraphs in the Death of