That afternoon, after the routine bureau meeting, he’d once again tried to shift his investigation in a new direction.
First, he tried to look into what Zhou had done during the last days of his life. But soon Chen gave up. What if the pack of 95 Supreme Majesty was just a trigger? Zhou might have been involved in something long before that. The presence of the city government team at the hotel pointed to such a possibility. Then Chen tried to figure out what Detective Wei had been doing on the last day of his life. Chen made several phone calls, reaching out to every possible contact, but it would be days before he learned anything useful.
Finally, Chen tried to find out the reason the Beijing team had been dispatched to the hotel. Comrade Zhao hadn’t written back yet, and there were all sorts of whispered stories, but none of them proved to be substantial.
Ultimately, he was exhausted, with nothing really accomplished. He decided to call it a day and go pay a visit to his mother. She was back home and living alone, where only an hourly maid who could hardly speak Shanghainese came by occasionally.
He kept walking, absentmindedly, until he found himself at Yunnan Road, a street he’d known well back in the days when he still lived with his mother. It was a street known for its ramshackle eateries with a variety of cheap, delicious specialties. Smelling the familiar scents, he thought it would be a good idea to buy some cooked food for his mother.
Nowadays, it was called a “gourmet street,” with a number of new, tall buildings and splendid restaurants in place of the old shacks. He walked over to Shenjiamen, a recently opened restaurant that sported an impressive array of basins near the entrance, plastic and wooden containers of various colors and sizes and shapes, each containing sea and river delicacies. He came to a stop at the sight of crowding squid, squirting clams, squirming trout, jumping frogs, and crawling crabs, as if they were still scuttling along the silent floors of rivers and oceans. A snakelike hose dipped in and out of the basins, pumping air into them in a bubbling appearance of life. There were several people lingering, likely or unlikely customers, squatting or standing around. A young mother looked down at the little boy tugging at her hand, her face radiant under the neon light that flashed: Private Room, Elegant Seat.
His phone rang and interrupted his reverie. It was Jiang of the city government.
“Fang has disappeared, Chief Inspector Chen.”
“Fang?”
“Zhou’s secretary. Nobody knows where she is. Not even her parents.”
“I’ve not met or interviewed her. Detective Wei told me that you didn’t see her as a potential suspect.”
“Not a suspect in Zhou’s death, no, but she might have been privy to his corruption. We talked to her quite a few times, and she denied any knowledge of his criminal activities.”
“She’s just a secretary. On the list of people privy to Zhou’s problems, she might not be at the top.”
“She wasn’t just a secretary—she was a little secretary, Comrade Chief Inspector Chen.”
“I didn’t know, Jiang,” Chen said, though he recalled both Wei and Zhou’s colleague Dang using the term. He ignored Jiang’s sarcastic tone. Trying to find out more, Chen said, “In fact, you didn’t tell me anything about her.”
“It was Zhou who brought her into the office. She studied in England a couple of years ago, and she still has a valid passport, as well as a valid visa that would allow her to travel to England and Europe. We have to prevent her from slipping out of the country. I’ve already informed customs and provided them with her picture.”
“I see.” But something didn’t add up. She might know something about the details of Zhou’s shady schemes, but that wouldn’t be a “state secret.” It was certainly nothing for Jiang to panic over.
“You have to find her as soon as possible, Chief Inspector Chen. I’ve discussed it with your Party Secretary Li, and you’re the one with experience in searching for a missing person.”
“Please fax or e-mail me all the information you have about her immediately. Send the photos you have of her as well. At the same time, inform Liao of the homicide squad that I’ll do my best,” Chen added before hanging up.
This was another twist, although Chen didn’t see anything particularly surprising about Fang’s disappearance. Jiang had, by his own admission, talked to her quite a few times, undoubtedly bringing a lot of pressure to bear on the secretary—or little secretary—so much so that it was very possible that she couldn’t take it anymore and ran away. An understandable reaction on her part, and she might come back before the police even started looking for her. It was very apparent that Jiang wasn’t telling him everything. Why would Jiang have bothered notifying customs?