A Loyal Character Dancer - [Chief Inspector Chen Cao 02] (19 page)

“Universities such as Fudan, East China Normal, and Shanghai Foreign Language may offer some teaching positions to native English speakers in exchange for their tuition in Chinese studies,” Chen said. “Preferably to those with English degrees.”

“I have a double major. One’s in English.”

“The exchange programs do not pay much. Not bad according to the Chinese standards, but you would not be able to afford to stay at the Peace Hotel.”

“I don’t have to stay at a luxurious hotel.” She pushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “Don’t worry, Chief Inspector Chen. I’m just curious.”

Soon the scene changed to a more rural one: rice paddies, vegetable plots, with some new, colorful houses here and there. Under Deng Xiaoping’s policy of “Letting some people get rich first,” prosperous peasant entrepreneurs were springing up like mushrooms. As they drove past a small lush green field, he exclaimed, “Qicai. Spring has made a late start here!”

“What?”

“Qicai. Called shepherd’s purse in English. I don’t know why it was given such a name. It is delicious.”

“Interesting. You’re a botanist too.”

“No, I am not. But once I tried to translate a Song dynasty poem, in which the poet finds himself gathered, deliriously, together with this greenish blossom on his lover’s tongue, and then on his tongue.”

“What a pity! You don’t have the time to gather any today.”

It was about two o’clock when they reached the site in Qingpu County where their quarry had been reported. It was a shabby restaurant in a village market. The door was ajar, and a wooden bench stood in the doorway. There were no customers at this time of the day.
                                 

Chen raised his voice. “Anybody here?”

A woman came out of the kitchen in the rear, wiping her hands on an oily apron. She had a thin face with deep-set eyes, high cheekbones, and wore her gray-streaked hair in a bun at the nape of her neck. She appeared to be in her late thirties, The roundness of her belly was slightly visible.
              

She looked very different from the woman in the passport picture. The disappointment in Catherine’s eyes mirrored his.

He handed his card to the woman mechanically. “We need to ask you a few questions.”

“Me?” She looked frightened. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“If you’ve done nothing wrong, you don’t have to worry. What’s your name?”

“Qiao Guozhen.”

“Do you have your I.D.?”

“Yes, here it is.”

Chen examined it closely. It had been issued in Guangxi Province. The picture on the I.D. card was of this woman. “So your family is still there?”

“Yes, my husband and my daughters are there.”

“Why are you here by yourself—in your pregnancy? They must be worried about you.”

“No, they are not worried. They know I’m here.”

“Do you have some family problem?”

“No, no problem at all.”

“You’d better tell me the truth,” he bluffed. It was not really his business, but he felt the need to do something in front of Inspector Rohn. “Or you will get into serious trouble.”

“Don’t send me back home, Comrade Chief Inspector. They will force me to have an abortion!”

Catherine cut in for the first time. “What? Who will do that to you?”

“The village cadres. They have birth control quotas to meet.”

“Tell us everything,” Catherine said. “We won’t get you into any trouble.”

Chief Inspector Chen looked at the two women, Qiao sobbing, Catherine fuming, himself standing by helplessly like an idiot. “What is the story, Comrade Qiao?”

“We have two daughters. My husband wanted to have a son. Now I’m pregnant again. We were fined heavily for the birth of our second daughter. The village committee said a heavy fine would not be enough this time, I would have to have an abortion. So I ran away.”

“You’re from Guangxi,” Chen said, aware of Catherine’s close attention. “Why have you come all the way here?”

“My husband wanted me to stay here with his cousin, but she had moved away. Fortunately, I met Mrs. Yang, the owner of the restaurant. She hired me.”

“So you work for your room and board?”

“Yang also gives me two hundred Yuan a month, in addition to tips,” Qiao said, putting a hand on her belly. “Soon I will not be able to work out front. I have to earn as much as I can.”

“What’s your plan?” Catherine asked.

“I’ll give birth to my baby here. When my son is two or three months old, I’ll go back.”

“What will your village cadres do to you?”

“After a baby has been born, they cannot really do anything. A heavy fine, probably. We’re not worried about that.” She turned to Chen, pleading in a trembling voice. “So you’re not going to send me back home?”
                        

“No. Your problem is with your village cadres, not with me. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for a pregnant woman like you to be so far from home.”
                         

“Do you have a better idea?” Catherine said sarcastically.

A man entered the restaurant, but at the sight of the chief inspector and his American partner, he left immediately without saying a single word.
                            

“You have my card. Take good care of yourself,” Chen said, standing up. “If you need help, let me know.”
             

They walked out of the restaurant in silence. The tension between them did not improve as they got into the car. He started the engine with a screeching sound.
               

The air inside the car felt stuffy.

It was a shame, he admitted to himself, that the local cadres had put so much pressure on Qiao, and that Inspector Rohn happened to be a witness. It was not the first time that he had heard stories about pregnant women going into hiding until after their deliveries. It was nonetheless unpleasant to hear it from somebody’s own mouth.

His American partner must have been thinking about China’s violation of human rights. The world in a drop of water. She did not say a single word. His hand accidentally hit the horn.

“Well, the local cadres may have overdone it,” he tried to break the silence, “but our government has no choice. The population control policy is a necessary one.”

“Whatever problem your government may have, a woman must be able to choose to have her baby—and at her own home.”

“You can hardly imagine how serious the problem is here, Inspector Rohn. Take Qiao’s family for example. They already have two daughters, and they will go on having more—until they finally have a son. The continuation of the family name, as you probably know from your Chinese studies, is the most important thing to these people.”

“It’s their choice.”

“But in what context?” he retorted. Last night Li had warned him not to go out of his way for the American. And here he was, being lectured to by an American about China’s human rights problem. “China does not have a lot of arable land. Less than ninety million hectares, to be exact. Do you think poor farmers like the Qiaos can afford to take good care of five or six kids in an impoverished province like Guangxi?”

“You’re using the numbers from the
People’s Daily.”

“Those are facts. If you had lived as an ordinary Chinese for more than thirty years, you might view the situation from a different perspective.”

“How, Comrade Chief Inspector Chen?” For the first time since they had returned to the car she looked up at him.

“You would have seen a few things for yourself. Three generations squeezed under one roof, and that a single room, buses packed with people like sardines in a can, and newly married couples obliged to sleep on their office desks as a protest to the housing committee. Detective Yu, for example, does not have a room of his own—the one his family now lives in used to be Old Hunter’s dining room. Yu’s nine-year-old son, Qinqin, still sleeps in the same room as his parents. Why? Because of overpopulation. Not enough housing or even space for the people. How can the government afford not to do something about it?”

“Whatever excuses you may have, basic human rights cannot be denied.”

“Such as the right of people to pursue happiness?” He found himself getting heated.

“Yes,” she said. “If you don’t acknowledge that, there’s nothing we can discuss.”

“Fine, then what about illegal immigration? According to your Constitution, there’s nothing wrong with people seeking a better life. America should welcome all immigrants with open arms. Then why are you pursuing this investigation? Why must people pay to be smuggled into your country?”

“That’s different. There must be international law and order.”

“That’s exactly my point. There are no absolute principles. They are always being modified by time and circumstances. Two or three hundred years ago, no one was complaining about illegal immigration to North America.”

“When did you become an historian?”

“I’m not.” He tried to control himself as he turned onto a road lined with new industrial buildings.

She did not try to conceal the sarcasm in her voice. “Perhaps that’s what you want to be, a celebrated mouthpiece for the
People’s Daily.
Still, you cannot deny the fact that poor women are deprived of their right to have babies.”

“I’m not saying that the local cadres should have gone that far, but China must do something about overpopulation.”

“I’m not surprised to hear this brilliant defense from you. In your position, Chief Inspector Chen, you must identify with the system.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, somberly. “I cannot help it, just as you cannot help seeing things here from a perspective formed by your system.”

“Whatever. I’ve had enough of your political lectures.” Her blue eyes were ocean-deep, unfathomable, antagonistic.

It bothered Chen, who was still aware of her attractiveness despite her being so critical of China.

A couplet from an anonymous Western Han dynasty poem came to his mind.

The Tartar horse rejoices in the north wind.

The bird of Yueh nestles on the south branch.

Different attachments. Different places. Perhaps Party Secretary Li was right. There was no point in his going out of his way to pursue this investigation.

Two thousand years ago, what was now the United States of America might have been called the Land of Tartars.

* * * *

Chapter 14

t never rains but it pours.

Chief Inspector Chen’s phone started ringing.

It was Mr. Ma. “Where are you, Chief Inspector Chen?”

“On the road back from Qingpu.”

“Are you alone?”

“No, with Catherine Rohn.”

“How is she?”

“Much better. Your paste is miraculous. Thank you.”

“I’m calling about the information you wanted yesterday.”
  

“Go ahead, Mr. Ma.”