So, Chen wondered, what was the purpose of the meeting?
Chen arrived at the hotel and was promptly ushered in to see Lieutenant Sheng. Sheng was a tall man in his late thirties or early forties. His receding hairline highlighted a broad forehead covered with lines. His accent revealed his origins—it was unmistakably from Beijing.
“I’m so glad to meet you, Chief Inspector Chen. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I’m glad to meet you, too, Lieutenant Sheng. You’re here on special detachment from Beijing, I hear.”
“Oh, there’s nothing special about it. If anything, I think I was sent because of the computer science classes I took at night school.”
“That can be important these days.”
“You’re a capable and experienced police officer, so there’s no point in beating around the bush,” Sheng said. “I was sent here because of the Zhou case, but I’m to focus on a different aspect. You know how all this trouble started. It was that search—the human-flesh search engine—which started on that Web forum. These witch hunts have become an Internet mass movement, and they are getting out of control. They are tearing the image of our Party and government to shreds. The bloggers and forum users—those so-called netizens—will use any and every excuse, no matter how flimsy, including a pack of high-priced cigarettes, to vent their frustration and fury against the Party authorities. If it keeps on like this, the stability of our socialist country will be destroyed.”
Chen listened without responding immediately. It was always easy to talk about motives, no matter what sort of investigation it was, and as far as Internal Security was concerned, the motive behind the Internet pile-on in the Zhou case was obvious.
Jiang, who was in charge of the team from the city government, seemed to be inclined toward the same conclusion. Sheng should have talked to Jiang instead.
“So what are you going to do?” Chen said, choosing to avoid a confrontation for the moment.
“We are going to nail the troublemaker who first sent the picture of the pack of 95 Supreme Majesty to the Web forum. As for Zhou, whatever he might have done, he has already been punished to the fullest.”
“Tracing the photo shouldn’t be too difficult for you. There are many Internet experts working for the government, and they should be able to trace it back to the source.”
“It’s not that easy. We’ve traced it only as far as the Web forum on which it was originally posted. The moderator claims that he received the picture from an anonymous sender.”
“I’m not a computer expert,” Chen said, determined to play dumb, “but isn’t it possible to trace the IP address back to the computer that sent it?”
“Well, it was sent from a computer at an Internet café—a place called Flying Horse—and done in such a devious way that despite the new regulations, we’ve hit a dead end. We have reason to believe it was a premeditated attack.”
Chen didn’t know what new regulations Sheng was talking about, other than the new requirement to show ID at the cafés. It wasn’t news that the government was continually tightening its control over the Internet. That was one of the jobs of Internal Security.
“I see. So, the sender took precautions. I suppose that’s not surprising, since the controversy about governmental controls of the Internet has been going on a while,” Chen said cautiously.
“But think about what happened after the original photo was posted. There were so many pictures and posts that popped up almost immediately. That was like a blitz. Everything had been orchestrated.”
There was no arguing with Internal Security, so Chen didn’t try.
“So let’s help each other, Chief Inspector Chen. If I find anything useful in your investigation, I’ll let you know immediately.”
“And vice versa, of course,” Chen said, though he wasn’t so sure about that. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Sheng was trying to sound him out. But that was a game two could play.
For the moment, the meeting was unfolding with no tangible animosity between them, even though it was by no means a meeting between allies. Each had his own agenda—one that was undisclosed and unknown to the other.
From the tall window of the hotel room, which had a balcony overlooking Shanxi Road, Chen thought he glimpsed a corner of the other hotel across the street. The traffic appeared once again to be stuck in a terrible snarl.
“Have there been any new developments in your investigation, Chief Inspector Chen?” Sheng said, finally coming to the point.
“Well, it’s much like the proverb, ‘A blind man is riding a blind horse toward a fathomless lake in a dark night,’” Chen said vaguely.