Citizen One (20 page)

“Senior Investigator Sun Piao of the Public Security Bureau Homicide Squad interviewing Comrade Colonel Zhong Qi of the
Shanghai Kan Shou Jingbei Si Ling Bu
. The date is the 21
^st
of February. The time is …”

Checking his watch.

“Around 11.30 a.m.”

“The time is exactly 11.42 a.m.”

Piao pulling his cuff across his watch. Snub-nosed base metal rudely staring from the thin yellow metal masquerading as gold.

“Thank you, Comrade Qi. At least you PLA are useful for something.”

A slight smile from the comrade, but his eyes fixed on a distant agenda. Reading from the charge sheets the Senior Investigator. Silence so deep, so commanding, making his words feel brittle.

“Comrade Colonel Zhong Qi, of the People’s Liberation Army, I am obliged to repeat the charges against you. Comrade Colonel you are charged with involvement in the murders of Comrade Detective Di and Deputy Detective Tan of the PSB at the Shanghai Yu Yuan Import Export warehouse.”

A bored gaze at his watch on his wrist, the
tai zi
.

“You are also charged with involvement in the murder of an un-named female comrade at the construction site of the New National Stadium. There may well be additional charges added once our investigations are complete.”

Silence as oppressive as a premature winter.

“I must also inform you that your fellow officers, Tsung, Ang and Huan, have already confessed.”

Qi laughing.

“Have confessed their name, rank and number, no doubt. I will not fall for that old trick. Now shall we just get this farce over.”

“Your status, Comrade Colonel, is such that the Party will feel obliged to make an example of you. A warning to other
cadre
who would commit such crimes. It will be a short trial. They always are. Few words, swift justice. The journey will be short also to the mound of sandbags. A low mound of sandbags, of course. The public must be allowed to see you kneeling. They will want to see the moment that the bullet leaves the rifle. The swirl of blue-grey smoke. And, of course, the blood running into the sawdust.”

Laughter from the
tai zi
Colonel. The kind of laughter that you would remember, but wish to forget. Tapping his watch.

“Trial. There will be no trial, Senior Investigator. I will be leaving your
fen-chu
shortly, very shortly.”

From a bulky file, pictures, copies of notes, a witness statement, a copy of a CCTV recording. Piao placing them precisely on the table.

“Yes, Comrade Colonel, there will be a trial. Such compelling evidence demands it. The murder of citizens of the People’s Republic demands it. You are not beyond the law.”

The
tai zi’s
eyes turning upon him.

“Your evidence will not be enough, Senior Investigator Sun Piao.”

His voice a low rasp. A whisper, surely too soft for the reel to reel to have picked up. Piao craning forward. Even at some distance the princeling’s sweet breath sickening him.

“I do not understand, Comrade PLA. Do you care to elaborate? Do you care to speak up?”

Across the
tai zi’s
face a shadow of a smile.

“Your evidence will never be enough.”

Piao, anger in a hot flood, on his feet, circling the princeling. Only the thought that his fist would leave a mark preventing him from giving his anger physical form.

“The Comrade PLA has said, ‘Your evidence will never be enough’. Comrade PLA, let me remind you that the laws of the People’s Republic of China govern all of its citizens.”

“Fine words, good Communist words, but you are out of your depth, Senior Investigator.”

Close to the
tai zi’s
cheek, Piao, but loud enough for the tape machine to pick-up.

“ ‘Our point of departure is to serve the people whole-heartedly and never for a moment divorce ourselves from the masses, to proceed in all cases from the interests of the people and not from one’s self-interest or from the interests of a small group, and to identify our responsibility to the people with our responsibility to the leading organs of the Party.’ ”

“Your knowledge of Mao will not help you, Senior Investigator. The old ways are dead. I, and others like me, we are the new way. We work to a higher purpose.”

Piao sitting once more, his anger now cold, focused and tactical.

“You are a very unattractive Comrade, Zhong Qi. Every time you look in the mirror, the mirror confirms it. Confirms it to the point that you now avoid any reflective surface, which is why you have turned your back to our window.”

For the first time the princeling showing signs of discomfort.

“You are a freak of nature. No amount of plastic surgery can disguise the ugliness of your face, or your soul.”

Through the Cologne, his smell, the PLA … animal, feral.

“That is why you kill so freely. Your anger at your own ugliness is a a self-loathing that spills from within you. We have an excellent psychiatrist at our
fen-chu
, Comrade PLA. I will recommend you to him. He will make you more at ease with your ugliness, although he cannot take it away from you. He is only a psychiatrist, he is not a god. Your ugliness will still remain, but your anger about it may not.”

Violence, sudden and without warning. The
tai zi
exploding from his chair, throwing it at the wall in thunderous concussion, then grabbing the table, heaving it onto its side. The reel to reel tape recorder crashing to the floor. Picking it up, the princeling, and hurling it against the door.

Turning, his face clammy, his breath laboured, words fractured.

“How dare you insult me, you
Ankang
scum! I work for a higher purpose, for a new and better People’s Republic. If other scum like those whores or your interfering Detectives get in the way of such progress, then they are casualties of war. I make no apologies for serving the interests of our great nation.”

Kicking the reel to reel recorder.

“Casualties of war and there will be many more before this progress has been completed.”

Calming himself, then wiping his face with a pristine white monogrammed handkerchief.

“You need a sign to show you the path, the new shining path, Senior Investigator Sun Piao. Have you checked your post lately?”

Footsteps approaching. Straightening his jacket, the
tai zi
. Smoothing back his hair.

“Your time, it is up, Senior Investigator.”

Already walking to the door the
tai zi
. Footsteps closer. The interview room door thrown back on its hinges. Detective Yun handing Piao the release papers. The PLA smiling, as he moved into the corridor, toward his freedom. Piao kicking the door closed. On the floor the shattered remnants of the reel to reel still emitting a deep guttural buzz. Pulling the electric plug from the socket, the noise fading, dying. Only the sound of distant footsteps left, keeping company with the beat of his heart. Piao on his knees gathering up papers, photographs, the faces of murderers and the murdered. Throwing a broken leg of the chair heavily against the wall.

I should have taken you to a dark, high bridge over the Huangpu River, Comrade Princeling. Not the
fen-chu
. Never to the
fen-chu
.

*

Zoul pacing, shouting. Featureless eyes glaring at Piao.

“Stupid. Stupid. You were to carry out an un-official investigation. Un-official. To arrest such a
cadre
, such a
tai zi
. Do you have a death wish, Senior investigator? Do you?”

Not waiting for an answer.

“And the possible impact on the
fen-chu
. Your Comrade Officers. Me, your Comrade Chief Officer. A man like Qi, he will have long arms. He will know others, many others, who have even longer arms.”

“He is guilty, Comrade Chief Officer. Here is the evidence.”

File, envelope, held out at arm’s length. Zoul ignoring them.

“Evidence, evidence.”

Words spat with disdain.

“This is what matters. This is what matters, Senior Investigator, not evidence.”

The desk, oak with leather and gold tracery, on it a pile of papers, faxes, emails, telephone messages, couriered letters. The Comrade Chief Officer’s hands scooping them up. Zoul reading as he walked.

“This email from the Ministry of Security insisting that Colonel Qi be released. Immediately released. Two telephone messages. Two chairmen of
danweis
both ordering that the questioning of Colonel Qi be halted immediately.”

Papers in a fluttered fall to the desktop.

“Ten, twenty faxes: the Central Political Bureau, the Central Secretariat, the All-China Federation of Trade Unions, the Guard Army of Shanghai Garrison Headquarters, the People’s Liberation Army Central Command.”

Picking up another pile.

“Telephone messages. These from the local Party. These from Beijing, the Central Committee, the Political Bureau. These from the All China Youth Federation and the Communist Youth League Central Committee.”

Zoul shaking his head.

“Why here? Why bring these PLA here? You were to do this away from the
fen-chu
, undercover. We are all tainted by this act, all tainted.”

Circling the Senior Investigator twice before he replied.

“Cao-mu jie-bing.”

Zoul laughing. No more than a sparse grunt.

“ ‘The dead cat turned.’ Naïve, Investigator. With men such as these, you will be that cat, that dead cat that they turn.”

Another grunt. His face creased with it.

“You used the power of the
fen-chu
to treat these men as common criminals. You humiliated them by arresting them, photographing and fingerprinting them. Worst of all, you subjected them to a DNA test. And in return for all of this shit …”

Faxes, emails, telephone messages, falling through his fingers.

“What did you get out of them? Three names, ranks and numbers. As for Qi, even his words are lost to us with the smashing of our reel to reel recorder. You have nothing, Piao. Nothing. Just words said to you only, and to the walls of interview room 4. Bricks, Senior Investigator, they do not speak.”

From Piao’s tunic pocket, a small silver tape recorder.

“I took an additional precaution, Comrade Chief Officer.”

Zoul surprised.

Piao placing the tape recorder on the desk. The tape rewound. Words … spurting, compressed, inverted. A button pushed, words fast forwarded. A shunt of sound, another button, the sound of a chair colliding with a wall, followed by that of a table thrown to the floor. Plastic splintering as the reel to reel violently met the concrete of the wall. And then a voice, breathy and angry.

‘How dare you insult me, you
Ankang
scum! I work for a higher purpose, for a new and better People’s Republic. If other scum like those whores or your interfering Detectives get in the way of such progress, then they are casualties of war. I make no apologies for serving the interests of our great nation.’

The sound of Qi kicking the reel to reel recorder. More words loaded with anger.

‘Casualties of war and there will be many more before this progress has been completed.’

The voice calmer now. Words less fractured.

‘You need a sign to show you the path, the new shining path, Senior Investigator Sun Piao. Have you checked your post lately?’

The sound of feet in the corridor beyond the interview room.

‘Your time, it is up, Senior Investigator.’

A door opening, feet in the interview room, then the sound of the interview room door being violently kicked closed and Piao switching off the recorder.

“Good evidence, Senior Investigator, but you will need more, much more than this to pin a
cadre
like Qi in place.”

But the Senior Investigator only half listening to Zoul as he replayed the tape. Concentrating on Qi’s words, every one of them. Not just the answers that he wanted to hear.

“It is an unfortunate reality of life in our People’s Republic that these
tai zis’
excesses go unchecked and unpunished. We must all learn to play a game, Piao. A very precise and careful game, or suffer the dire consequences.”

Listening. The tape slowly revolving. Qi’s words, dull-edged.

‘You need a sign to show you the path, the new shining path, Senior Investigator Sun Piao. Have you checked your post lately?’

The Comrade Chief Officer with his back to Piao, staring out of the window.

“What is it, Senior Investigator?”

A button stabbed. Another. Another.

“What’s wrong, Piao?”

‘Have you checked your post lately?’

Again.

‘Have you checked your post lately?’

“Is there a problem, Senior Investigator Piao?”

Zoul turning, but his office door already open. In the corridor outside, just the sound of a cleaner going about her business and the sound of feet. Running feet.

*

A box, perhaps 18 inches square, heavily wrapped in brown paper and white string. Carefully, as if holding a baby, Piao carrying it into the bathroom. His instincts and the PLA’s words leading him to the bath where he set the parcel at its very heart.

“When did it arrive?”

“About two hours ago by courier. I signed for you.”

Only now Rentang noticing the sheen of sweat across the Senior Investigator’s face. The heavy rise, the plummeting fall of his chest.

“What’s wrong, Piao?”

String untied and falling. Fingers under tape sealed seams. Brown paper, slipping away like onion skins.

“Leave the bathroom. Call the PSB. I want a forensic officer here. Now.”

“What is it? A fucking bomb?”

“Just call them. Now. Go now.”

Piao already knowing, the worst part of it all.

Rentang leaving the bathroom, almost running. the Senior Investigator pushing the door to. A sudden urge, almost uncontrollable, to run. To escape.

Pulling the tape from the plastic and from the tight bubble-wrap. Suddenly aware of the hue that blood has, seeping onto the chipped enamel of the bath, pooling in puddles of old tap water. And, through a gap in the bubble-wrap, a shock of hair, matted, bloodied. And smells … smells of a butcher’s stall, of meat past its sell by date.