“I think I read about it in the Xinming Evening Newspaper.”

“The victim could have been murdered in a hotel room, or in a place like yours.”

“You cannot be serious, Chief Inspector Chen.”

“I’m not saying it happened here, General Manager Gu. I make no accusation. But you are well-informed and move in the right circles. The Dynasty is the number-one karaoke club in Shanghai,” Chen said, patting Gu’s shoulder. “Some clubs or other places stay open all night, and they do not do a proper business like yours. The victim was in his pajamas, having just had sex. You see, I’m giving you all the details, in confidence.”

“I appreciate your trust, Chief Inspector Chen. I will try my best to find out for you.”

“Thank you, General Manager Gu. As it is said, ‘Some people can never understand each other all their lives, not even when they are white-haired, but some do the moment they take off their hats.’” Chen rose to his feet. “I’m glad that we have met today. Now I have to leave. Please give me the bill.”

“If you consider me a friend, don’t talk about payment. I cannot bear to lose face like that.”

“Oh no, you cannot let him lose face, Chief Inspector Chen,” Catherine said.

“Here are two VIP cards,” Gu said. “One for you, one for your beautiful American girlfriend. You must come back again.”

“Of course we will.” Catherine smiled, taking Chen’s arm as they walked out.

This was a carefully calculated message for Gu: Chief Inspector Chen had his weaknesses. She did not let go of his arm until they lost themselves in the crowd. They did not start talking until they got back to the car.

The Flying Axes were looking for Wen, not only in the Fujian area, but elsewhere, desperately, “Bumping everywhere like a headless fly-” just as they were. By April twenty-fourth, however, failure to locate Wen would be a success for the gangsters.

Chapter 15

It was not until they came in sight of the hotel that he remembered, “Oh, the dinner I promised you. I’ve forgotten all about it, Inspector Rohn.”

“It’s just five o’clock. I’m not hungry yet.”

“What about Deda? It is close to the hotel. We can talk there.”

Deda was a two-story restaurant on the corner of Nanjing and Sichuan Road. Its European-style front formed a sharp contrast to the Central Market beside it.

“During the Cultural Revolution, it was called Workers, Peasants, and Soldiers Restaurant,” Chief Inspector Chen said. “Now it has changed back to the original name, Deda, meaning ‘Great German’.”

There were quite a number of young people on the first floor, smoking, talking, stirring desires or memories into their coffee cups. He led her to the second floor, where food was served. They chose a table by a window overlooking Nanjing Road. She ordered a glass of white wine, and he, coffee and a wedge of lemon pie. At his recommendation, she also had a Deda special, a piece of chestnut cream cake.

“You have a reason for everything, Chief Inspector Chen. You were like a fish swimming in triad waters-at the Dynasty.”

“It takes time to crack a hard nut like Gu. Time is what we cannot afford. So I tried a different approach.”

“Your performance was impressive, making friends, and exchanging favors.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret. One of my favorite genres is the kung fu novel.”

“Like the Western in American literature. People know it’s a fantasy, but they still enjoy it.”

“You might say that the present-day triad world is a poor imitation of the more glamorized one in the kung fu novels. Of course there are differences but they share values. For one, yiqi. An ethical code of brotherhood, of loyalty, with emphasis on the obligation to reciprocate favors.”

“Is yiqi so important in China because the legal system is flawed?”

“You could say that,” he said, impressed by her acute observation. “But yiqi is not necessarily negative. My father was a Confucian scholar. And I still remember an old saying he taught me. ‘If somebody helps you with a drop of water, you should repay him by digging a spring for him’.”

“You have made a special study,” she said, taking another small sip of wine.

“Gu is a shrewd businessman. Yiqi does not come out of nowhere. If he sees some future benefit, he is more likely to cooperate. It would not hurt him to talk a little-in a private room-to a chief inspector. That little is all I need.”

“Oh, Gu has more than that I think,” she said. “Mr. Diao, the Hong Kong visitor, may have not left his phone number, but Gu can find him. It really depends on how much he wants his parking lot.”

“You are right. I’ll have a talk with my former secretary at Traffic Control.”

“The visitor could be a Flying Ax. They may have a branch in Hong Kong.”

“As far as I know, the gang does not have a branch in Hong Kong. And a Fujian accent would be hard to cover up. Besides, I don’t see why a visitor should try to conceal his identity from Gu.”

“Why not, Chief Inspector Chen?”

“There’s a gang rule-’declaring the mountain door.’ One has to make clear his organization background and rank so others will deal with him.”

“That’s a point,” she said, nodding. “But if he’s not a Flying Ax, who is he?”

“I don’t have the answer.”

“You mentioned the other case to Gu, the body in Bund Park, with all the ax wounds. Could there be some connection between that killing and Wen’s disappearance?”

“It’s probably a coincidence. A lot of gangs use axes.”

“Don’t the triads use guns at all?”

“Some do, but in gang fights, they prefer knives and axes. There is very strict gun control in China.”

“Yes, your government refused my request to carry a gun.”

The waiter came to their table with a dessert cart.

“In the tradition of kung fu novels,” he resumed as soon as they were left alone, “it is necessary to apologize by making a banquet. This is no banquet, but I am sincere in making my apologies.”

“What are you apologizing for?” She was surprised.

“Inspector Rohn, I want you to know that I’m sorry about my overreaction in Qingpu. I should not have associated my defense of my government’s birth-control policy with the issue of illegal immigration to the U.S. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Let’s put it behind us. You pushed your defense too far, and I went overboard, too. We’re both to blame,” she said. The fact was that after their argument she trusted him more. He had lost his composure; he had not been acting. “But you did a great job with Gu this afternoon. This may be important.”

“Well, but for your strained ankle, we would not have visited Mr. Ma, and then we would not have learned of Gu. It’s really serendipitous, a chain of coincidences.”

“And if Mr. Ma hadn’t had a copy of Dr. Zhivago on his shelf years ago, and become a doctor because of it, or even earlier, if you hadn’t wandered into his bookstore for your comic book… it may be a very long chain indeed,” she said.

In spite of their reconciliation, she did not invite him to her hotel. They shook hands outside the cafe, standing on the sidewalk, still filled with illegally parked bikes.

He remained there for a minute, watching her walk across traffic-jammed Sichuan Road. Her black purse swung against her side, her long hair brushed her shoulders. As her slender figure reemerged from the waves of bikes, she appeared to be far away.

There was no accident this time.

He heaved a sigh of relief.

He phoned Meiling at the Shanghai Metropolitan Traffic Control Office.

“What’s up, Director Chen.”

“Don’t call me that, Meiling. I only served as acting director when Director Wei was in hospital.”

Director Wei had returned, but he remained in unstable health. People had been talking about Chen’s moving back to the position. It was a suggestion he meant to resist.