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Minister Huang called about your joining us in our investigation.”
    “Oh Lieutenant Song, I was going to contact you. Please come in,” Chen said. “I’ve just read the file. We need to talk about
     it.”
    “Well, all the basic information is in the file,” Song said, sitting on the chair Chen pulled out for him. “Do you have any
     questions, Chief Inspector Chen?”
    “About the Mao material — about whatever Shang left behind, I mean — have you any idea what it might be?”
    “Pictures, diaries, letters, anything is possible.”
    “I see. Is there anything new — anything that’s happened since the file was compiled?” Chen said, pouring a cup of water for
     the visitor. “Sorry, there is no tea left at home.”
    “Do you know about Xie’s ex-wife?”
    “I know he has an ex-wife. What about her?”
    “She has just come back. Last week, she met with Xie and then was seen sobbing in the garden.”
    “I know they are divorced, but was there anything suspicious about their meeting, Lieutenant Song?”
    “She cut all ties when she left China. There were no letters or phone calls for years. So why meet now?”
    “Well, with things between a husband and wife, who can tell? Xie’s worth something now, with his mansion and his collection,
     and they have no children. You know what I mean.”
    “It’s more than that. A couple of days ago, she brought a foreigner to the mansion. What for? We’ve also found out that she
     has booked a return ticket for two weeks from today.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “That means we have to conclude the investigation before she goes back to the States.”

    “So I only have two weeks?”
    “Less than two weeks, Chief Inspector Chen. If your approach does not work, we’ll need time to wrap it up our way.”
    Chen didn’t like Internal Security’s way. It was too easy for them to apply “tough measures” to Xie or Jiao using any available
     excuse. As a cop rather than Internal Security, Chen was disturbed, and not only about the possible consequences. But he didn’t
     want to confront Song during their first meeting. Internal Security might have every reason to be upset with Chen, since his
     assignment to the case was a challenge to their competence.
    “According to Minister Huang, you have suggested a point of entry for me — through Xie’s parties.”
    “Yes, with your English and poetry, you’ll be like a fish swimming in the water.”
    “You don’t have to say that, Lieutenant Song.” Aware of the sarcasm in Song’s comment, Chen retorted, “You must go to a lot
     of his parties too, like a dragon stranded in a shallow pool.”
    “We have someone who goes to them. If you want, you may go with him to the next party.”
    “Thank you, but I’ve already made a couple of phone calls about the party. I think I may go there by myself and meet your
     man there. What’s his name?”
    “So you are going by yourself? That’s great.” Song added without answering his question, “You’re moving fast.”
    “It’s a special case, isn’t it?”
    “Well, since you’re going, you’ll see everything for yourself,” Song said, standing up abruptly. “Let’s talk again after your
     visit.”
    Chen also rose, accompanying him to the door.
    Why had Song come? Chen pondered, listening to the sound of the lieutenant’s steps fading away in the concreted staircase.
     It could have been a sort of formal gesture made for the sake of Minister Huang and other “leading comrades in Beijing,” but
     Chen doubted it.
    He wondered whether Detective Yu had heard anything about it in the bureau. But as close as the two had been, he would not
     enlist Yu’s
help for this case. A case concerning Mao could have unpredictable consequences, possibly serious ones for the cops involved.
    Instead, he thought of Old Hunter, Yu’s father, a retired cop whom Chen knew and trusted. As a retiree, Old Hunter might also
     know more about things that happened during the