Passing Zhou’s office, which was still locked with an official seal, Chen came to Dang’s, which was right next door.
Dang was a tall, robust man in his early forties with beady eyes, bushy brows, and a ruddy complexion. He greeted Chen affably, then, after an exchange of a few polite words, came to the point.
“You’re not an outsider, Comrade Chief Inspector Chen, so I won’t give you the official response. Zhou meant well. It’s easy for people to complain about the housing bubble, but once the bubble bursts, the economy will collapse. So when Zhou saw signs of instability in the market, he tried to forestall them. Unfortunately, he underestimated the pent-up frustrations of those who couldn’t afford housing. In a pack of cigarettes, they found a convenient outlet for their anger. We certainly can’t rule out the possibility that some people used this as an opportunity to smear our Party’s image.”
“Yes, we are looking into all the possibilities,” Chen responded, almost mechanically.
“I don’t know about Zhou’s other problems under shuanggui investigation. If all that was exposed on the Internet was real, then it served him right. In the office, Zhou alone had the final say, making most decisions without discussing them with any of us,” Dang said casually, picking up Chen’s card. “Oh, you’re deputy Party secretary. Then you know how things can be. A lot happens in the office without my knowledge. As far as the pack of 95 Supreme Majesty is concerned, however, that was just Zhou’s luck. You’ll have to find the root of the trouble, Chief Inspector Chen. It wasn’t anything directed against Zhou personally, but against the Party instead. We can’t allow those people on the Internet to go rampaging like that anymore.”
Chen nodded. Such a demand from Dang made sense. The Internet couldn’t go on uncontrolled like that: the next target could be Dang.
“Now, I have a question about the actual photo, Dang. Do you have any idea who took it?”
“Jiang asked me the same question,” Dang responded with a sigh. “During the meeting, several of us were sitting with Zhou next to the podium. It would have been out of the question for any one of us to disturb the meeting by taking pictures. There were many other people sitting in the conference hall who could have taken photos, though. So the short answer is that we don’t know. We do know, however, that Zhou himself e-mailed the picture to his secretary, Fang, who wrote the press release and sent it with the picture. It’s possible that Zhou had someone taking the pictures with his own camera, and then downloaded them onto his own computer. If it had been e-mailed to Zhou from somebody else, Jiang would have discovered the sender when they searched his computer.”
Chen nodded, noting the subtle subject change from “I” to “we” in Dang’s explanation, without making any comment. Still, Dang had basically confirmed Wei’s account.
“Needless to say, none of us here had access to his computer before the scandal broke,” Dang went on. “Then Jiang’s team took it away, along with all the CDs and disks in his office.”
“Is it possible that Zhou had several e-mail accounts, some of them unknown? Or perhaps he deleted some e-mails or files?”
“That’s possible, but I don’t see how. Jiang’s people wouldn’t have discovered that. They are computer experts. If Zhou had received the picture from somebody else, they would have ferreted that out one way or another.”
“So his secretary sent the text out to the media along with the picture per his instruction.”
“That’s correct,” Dang said, then added, “as far as I know.”
“Is that a rule—that all press releases and attachments have to be approved by this office?”
“Anything about the housing market can be extremely sensitive. A careless remark from someone in our office can cause panic among the sellers and buyers. That’s why a rule was instituted: for an important speech like Zhou’s, Zhou himself would review the text, and sometimes the pictures as well, before his secretary sent them out to the media.”
“Can I talk to her—the secretary, I mean?”
“Fang’s not in today. She called in sick early this morning. Jiang talked to her, though, and she told him that she merely sent out the things Zhou gave her, and only under his specific instruction. She’s just a little secretary.”
“A little secretary,” Chen repeated reflectively. The term could mean a mistress—usually much younger—serving under the guise of being a secretary. There was nothing about that in Wei’s folder. Chen didn’t push. Dang didn’t elaborate. Still, Chen asked for her name, address, and phone number before he took leave of Dang.