our top priority. Our clinic and its location, however, may prove an attractive alternative to tourists, especially for those from Shanghai. They can stay here, just like staying in a nice, quiet hotel, and at the same time, enjoy a convenient and comfortable physical checkup. Now, you’re from Shanghai, where you are a celebrity. So you would be the very man to bring this message back to Shanghai.”
There might be something to this logic, Chen thought. The center was huge but far from fully occupied. Watching from his window, he had seen buildings with a considerable number of unlit windows at night. In recent years, state-run institutions like hospitals had resorted to charging their patients ever-increasing fees and getting “red envelopes” from them too, but the center was not in a position to do the same. They had to get by with the limited funds they received from the state.
But it was none of his business. Nor was Chief Inspector Chen here in Wuxi for business consultation. Still, Director Qiao seemed sincere in his approach, and Chen could not politely refuse.
He agreed to a late lunch, with the bitter taste of the herbal medicine lingering on his tongue.
There was still more than an hour before the lunch, so he sat himself in front of the laptop in the study and fumbled for an Internet connection. In spite of the instruction sheet beside the computer, he couldn’t get it to connect. It was an imported laptop loaded with Chinese software. At least he could try to write something. So he hunched down over the keyboard, though nothing came to mind for several minutes.
He took the laptop into the living room and sat where he could see the lake view outside the tall window. Then he thought of the unfinished poem he had started the day before—about one’s identity in others’ interpretations. The image of Shanshan walking along the lake shore with him started to intrude. What kind of man could he have been in her interpretation or imagination?
The phone on the table rang. He picked it up, heard the operator saying something indistinctly, and then Uncle Wang’s voice rushing over it in agitation.
“I know you’re vacationing at the center, Mr. Chen, but I had to call you. Shanshan is in trouble.”
“Oh—how?”
“This morning she came by, as usual, to put her lunch in my refrigerator, but before she stepped in, a couple of fierce-looking strangers appeared out of nowhere, intercepted her, and walked her into a car waiting outside. Afterward, I tried to call her at work. Someone there told me to keep quiet, that she’s been detained for interrogation.”
“Really! Do you know why?”
“She had some sort of an argument with Liu, her boss. That’s about all I know. Now that Liu’s dead, people must suspect her.”
“Just because of an argument about work? That’s outrageous. Do they have any evidence?”
“I have no idea. But Shanshan’s incapable of doing anything like this. I know her, Mr. Chen. I’ve known her since she was a child. ”
“I’ll look into it, Uncle Wang. Don’t worry. In the meantime, if you think of anything else, call me. Here is my cell number—” He paused, changing his mind, “No. I’ll come over and see you. Don’t move.”
He must have sounded like a cop, he thought, placing the phone back in the cradle. And it was true that he was preparing to act like a cop, though only the day before, he had reassured Sergeant Huang that the murder wasn’t his case and that he was just curious, only someone bored while on vacation.
His change in attitude was because of her. That much the chief inspector would admit to himself.
He left a short message for Director Qiao at the center office, apologizing for being unable to meet for lunch, then hurried out.
The road was just as attractive as before, but he was in no mood to look around like a tourist this time. It only took him about ten minutes to reach the eatery.
“She’s in trouble, I know,” Uncle Wang kept
There might be something to this logic, Chen thought. The center was huge but far from fully occupied. Watching from his window, he had seen buildings with a considerable number of unlit windows at night. In recent years, state-run institutions like hospitals had resorted to charging their patients ever-increasing fees and getting “red envelopes” from them too, but the center was not in a position to do the same. They had to get by with the limited funds they received from the state.
But it was none of his business. Nor was Chief Inspector Chen here in Wuxi for business consultation. Still, Director Qiao seemed sincere in his approach, and Chen could not politely refuse.
He agreed to a late lunch, with the bitter taste of the herbal medicine lingering on his tongue.
There was still more than an hour before the lunch, so he sat himself in front of the laptop in the study and fumbled for an Internet connection. In spite of the instruction sheet beside the computer, he couldn’t get it to connect. It was an imported laptop loaded with Chinese software. At least he could try to write something. So he hunched down over the keyboard, though nothing came to mind for several minutes.
He took the laptop into the living room and sat where he could see the lake view outside the tall window. Then he thought of the unfinished poem he had started the day before—about one’s identity in others’ interpretations. The image of Shanshan walking along the lake shore with him started to intrude. What kind of man could he have been in her interpretation or imagination?
The phone on the table rang. He picked it up, heard the operator saying something indistinctly, and then Uncle Wang’s voice rushing over it in agitation.
“I know you’re vacationing at the center, Mr. Chen, but I had to call you. Shanshan is in trouble.”
“Oh—how?”
“This morning she came by, as usual, to put her lunch in my refrigerator, but before she stepped in, a couple of fierce-looking strangers appeared out of nowhere, intercepted her, and walked her into a car waiting outside. Afterward, I tried to call her at work. Someone there told me to keep quiet, that she’s been detained for interrogation.”
“Really! Do you know why?”
“She had some sort of an argument with Liu, her boss. That’s about all I know. Now that Liu’s dead, people must suspect her.”
“Just because of an argument about work? That’s outrageous. Do they have any evidence?”
“I have no idea. But Shanshan’s incapable of doing anything like this. I know her, Mr. Chen. I’ve known her since she was a child. ”
“I’ll look into it, Uncle Wang. Don’t worry. In the meantime, if you think of anything else, call me. Here is my cell number—” He paused, changing his mind, “No. I’ll come over and see you. Don’t move.”
He must have sounded like a cop, he thought, placing the phone back in the cradle. And it was true that he was preparing to act like a cop, though only the day before, he had reassured Sergeant Huang that the murder wasn’t his case and that he was just curious, only someone bored while on vacation.
His change in attitude was because of her. That much the chief inspector would admit to himself.
He left a short message for Director Qiao at the center office, apologizing for being unable to meet for lunch, then hurried out.
The road was just as attractive as before, but he was in no mood to look around like a tourist this time. It only took him about ten minutes to reach the eatery.
“She’s in trouble, I know,” Uncle Wang kept
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