A Loyal Character Dancer - [Chief Inspector Chen Cao 02] (21 page)

“Now that we’re friends, General Manager Gu, I would like to ask you a couple of questions.”

“Gladly, I will tell you anything I know.” Gu was all smiles.

“Has a gang called the Flying Axes contacted you?”

“Flying Axes? No, Chief Inspector Chen,” Gu said, his eyes suddenly alert. “I’m a decent business man. But a karaoke club has visitors from all walks of life. Occasionally from those secret societies as well. They come here like other customers. To sing, to dance, to have a good time.”

“Oh yes, there are a lot of private rooms here. Private services, too.” Chen stirred his coffee spoon deliberately. “You are a clever man, General Manager Gu. We can talk plainly. Whatever you pass on to me as a friend will be kept confidential.”

“I’m so honored that you consider me a friend.” Gu seemed to be stalling for time. “Really. I’m overwhelmed.”

“Let me tell you something, General Manager Gu. Lu Tonghao, the owner of Moscow Suburb, is an old pal of mine. When he first started his business, I managed to get a loan for him.”

“Moscow Suburb! Yes, I’ve been there. To get along in today’s society, people really have to rely on their friends. Especially a friend like you. No wonder the restaurant enjoys such success.”

Chief Inspector Chen was aware of the close attention Inspector Rohn was paying to the conversation. Still, he went on.

“Lu has a bevy of Russian girls walking around in their mini slips. No one gives him any trouble. It’s so easy for people to find problems, you know, with a restaurant or a karaoke business.”

“That’s true. Fortunately, we do not have any problems with ours—” Gu said more slowly. “Well, except for the parking lot behind our building.”

“Parking lot?”

“There’s a space behind our building. For our location, this is really a godsend. So convenient for customers to park their cars there. The Shanghai Metropolitan Traffic Control people have come to us several times, saying that the space has not been zoned as a parking lot for the club.”

“If it’s a matter of a zoning problem, I can give them a call. Perhaps you may not know that I served as the acting director of Traffic Control last year.”

“Really, Director Chen!”

“Now about the gang—from Fujian.” Chen put down the cup and looked Gu in the eyes. “Does that ring a bell?”

“A Fujian triad. I don’t know. Oh, now I remember something else. Someone came to me yesterday. Not from Fujian, but from Hong Kong. A certain Mr. Diao. And he asked me if I had hired anyone from Fujian. A woman in her mid-thirties, three or four months pregnant. That’s so unlikely. Most of the girls working here are under twenty-five, and we have more good-looking young women applying than we can hire, let alone a pregnant one.”

“Did Mr. Diao give you any description of the woman he was looking for?”

“Let me think.” Gu said. “Not particularly nice looking. Sallow, wrinkled, a lot of sadness in her eyes. A woman who looked like a Fujian farmer.”

“Are you sure that Mr. Diao’s not a gangster?”

“I don’t think so. He would have stated his organization and rank when he introduced himself.” Gu added, belatedly, “And he would not have come to me if he were a gangster.”

“Your club is not a likely place to find such a woman. Mr. Diao must have known better.” Chen said. “Why did he come here?”

“I don’t know. He must have been desperate, bumping everywhere like a headless fly.”

“Do you know where he is staying?”

“He did not leave his address or phone number. He said he might check back.”

“If he does, find out where he can be found and give me a call.” Chen had written his cellular phone number on the back of his card. “Any time.”

“I’ll do that, Chief Inspector Chen. Anything else?”

“Well, another thing,” Chen said. Gu seemed to be quite cooperative now that he had played the bargaining chip of the parking lot. The chief inspector decided to push his luck a little further. “A body was discovered in Bund Park a few days ago. Possibly a triad killing. There were many ax wounds to the body. Have you heard anything about it?”

“I think I read about it in the
Xinming Evening Newspaper.”

“The victim could have been murdered in a hotel room, or in a place like yours.”

“You cannot be serious, Chief Inspector Chen.”

“I’m not saying it happened here, General Manager Gu. I make no accusation. But you are well-informed and move in the right circles. The Dynasty is the number-one karaoke club in Shanghai,” Chen said, patting Gu’s shoulder. “Some clubs or other places stay open all night, and they do not do a proper business like yours. The victim was in his pajamas, having just had sex. You see, I’m giving you all the details, in confidence.”

“I appreciate your trust, Chief Inspector Chen. I will try my best to find out for you.”

“Thank you, General Manager Gu. As it is said, ‘Some people can never understand each other all their lives, not even when they are white-haired, but some do the moment they take off their hats.’” Chen rose to his feet. “I’m glad that we have met today. Now I have to leave. Please give me the bill.”

“If you consider me a friend, don’t talk about payment. I cannot bear to lose face like that.”

“Oh no, you cannot let him lose face, Chief Inspector Chen,” Catherine said.

“Here are two VIP cards,” Gu said. “One for you, one for your beautiful American girlfriend. You must come back again.”

“Of course we will.” Catherine smiled, taking Chen’s arm as they walked out.

This was a carefully calculated message for Gu: Chief Inspector Chen had his weaknesses. She did not let go of his arm until they lost themselves in the crowd. They did not start talking until they got back to the car.

The Flying Axes were looking for Wen, not only in the Fujian area, but elsewhere, desperately, “Bumping everywhere like a headless fly—” just as they were. By April twenty-fourth, however, failure to locate Wen would be a success for the gangsters.

* * * *

Chapter 15

t was not until they came in sight of the hotel that he remembered, “Oh, the dinner I promised you. I’ve forgotten all about it, Inspector Rohn.”

“It’s just five o’clock. I’m not hungry yet.”

“What about Deda? It is close to the hotel. We can talk there.”

Deda was a two-story restaurant on the corner of Nanjing and Sichuan Road. Its European-style front formed a sharp contrast to the Central Market beside it.

“During the Cultural Revolution, it was called Workers, Peasants, and Soldiers Restaurant,” Chief Inspector Chen said. “Now it has changed back to the original name, Deda, meaning ‘Great German’.”

There were quite a number of young people on the first floor, smoking, talking, stirring desires or memories into their coffee cups. He led her to the second floor, where food was served. They chose a table by a window overlooking Nanjing Road. She ordered a glass of white wine, and he, coffee and a wedge of lemon pie. At his recommendation, she also had a Deda special, a piece of chestnut cream cake.

“You have a reason for everything, Chief Inspector Chen. You were like a fish swimming in triad waters—at the Dynasty.”

“It takes time to crack a hard nut like Gu. Time is what we cannot afford. So I tried a different approach.”

“Your performance was impressive, making friends, and exchanging favors.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret. One of my favorite genres is the kung fu novel.”

“Like the Western in American literature. People know it’s a fantasy, but they still enjoy it.”

“You might say that the present-day triad world is a poor imitation of the more glamorized one in the kung fu novels. Of course there are differences but they share values. For one,
yiqi.
An ethical code of brotherhood, of loyalty, with emphasis on the obligation to reciprocate favors.”

“Is
yiqi
so important in China because the legal system is flawed?”

“You could say that,” he said, impressed by her acute observation. “But
yiqi
is not necessarily negative. My father was a Confucian scholar. And I still remember an old saying he taught me. ‘If somebody helps you with a drop of water, you should repay him by digging a spring for him’.”

“You have made a special study,” she said, taking another small sip of wine.

“Gu is a shrewd businessman.
Yiqi
does not come out of nowhere. If he sees some future benefit, he is more likely to cooperate. It would not hurt him to talk a little—in a private room—to a chief inspector. That little is all I need.”

“Oh, Gu has more than that I think,” she said. “Mr. Diao, the Hong Kong visitor, may have not left his phone number, but Gu can find him. It really depends on how much he wants his parking lot.”

“You are right. I’ll have a talk with my former secretary at Traffic Control.”

“The visitor could be a Flying Ax. They may have a branch in Hong Kong.”

“As far as I know, the gang does not have a branch in Hong Kong. And a Fujian accent would be hard to cover up. Besides, I don’t see why a visitor should try to conceal his identity from Gu.”

“Why not, Chief Inspector Chen?”

“There’s a gang rule—’declaring the mountain door.’ One has to make clear his organization background and rank so others will deal with him.”

“That’s a point,” she said, nodding. “But if he’s not a Flying Ax, who is he?”

“I don’t have the answer.”

“You mentioned the other case to Gu, the body in Bund Park, with all the ax wounds. Could there be some connection between that killing and Wen’s disappearance?”

“It’s probably a coincidence. A lot of gangs use axes.”

“Don’t the triads use guns at all?”

“Some do, but in gang fights, they prefer knives and axes. There is very strict gun control in China.”

“Yes, your government refused my request to carry a gun.”

The waiter came to their table with a dessert cart.

“In the tradition of kung fu novels,” he resumed as soon as they were left alone, “it is necessary to apologize by making a banquet. This is no banquet, but I am sincere in making my apologies.”

“What are you apologizing for?” She was surprised.

“Inspector Rohn, I want you to know that I’m sorry about my overreaction in Qingpu. I should not have associated my defense of my government’s birth-control policy with the issue of illegal immigration to the U.S. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Let’s put it behind us. You pushed your defense too far, and I went overboard, too. We’re both to blame,” she said. The fact was that after their argument she trusted him more. He had lost his composure; he had not been acting. “But you did a great job with Gu this afternoon. This may be important.”

“Well, but for your strained ankle, we would not have visited Mr. Ma, and then we would not have learned of Gu. It’s really serendipitous, a chain of coincidences.”

“And if Mr. Ma hadn’t had a copy of
Dr. Zhivago
on his shelf years ago, and become a doctor because of it, or even earlier, if you hadn’t wandered into his bookstore for your comic book ... it may be a very long chain indeed,” she said.

In spite of their reconciliation, she did not invite him to her hotel. They shook hands outside the cafe, standing on the sidewalk, still filled with illegally parked bikes.