Enigma of China by Qiu Xiaolong Read Free Book Online

justification for cooking in another’s kitchen. Detective Wei, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind that much.
    But Wei wasn’t the one and only chef in there. Jiang was another, and he was following his own recipe. Then there was the city Party Discipline Committee team, even though it looked like Liu wasn’t at the hotel most of the time.
    Chen began to have second thoughts about this assignment after his dinner with the Yus.
    The city government might not be able to convince people with just an announcement that Zhou had committed suicide. A police investigation into his death could be a necessary show, one that had best be performed in convincing earnestness. So as Yu had put it, Chen’s role as a consultant could simply be to endorse the conclusion.
    If so, Chief Inspector Chen was in no hurry to do anything.
    What made the situation even more complicated was the divergent investigations of Wei and Jiang.
    Judging from his discussions with Wei, the stubborn detective was more and more inclined to conclude that Zhou had been murdered. This persistence had to be an annoyance to Jiang, who, to protect the interests of the city government, wanted a conclusion of suicide.
    Chen didn’t think that he had to confront Jiang right away. Still, he felt compelled to do something on the case, so he settled on a visit to Zhou’s widow.
    The Zhous lived in Xujiahui, just a block away from the Oriental Commerce Center. For a Party cadre with Zhou’s position, their three-bedroom apartment might not be considered too luxurious-that is, if one didn’t take into consideration the other properties he owned.
    Mrs. Zhou opened the door in response to Chen’s knock. She was a fairly buxom woman in her early forties, and the way she was leaning against the light-flooded doorframe was suggestive of something soon to go out of shape, like a full blossom at the end of the summer. She was wearing a white blouse and white pants, with a black silk crepe on her sleeve. She looked Chen up and down with undisguised hostility.
    “How many times are you cops going to snoop around here?” she snapped. “Why aren’t you out trying to catch the real criminal?”
    How could she tell that he was with the police before he even said anything? There must be something that tipped people off about him, whether he was in uniform or not.
    “My colleagues have already talked to you, I believe.”
    “Yes. Several of them,” she said, then added in mounting frustration, “Different groups of them. They searched the apartment repeatedly, turning the whole place upside down. And what did they find? Nothing.”
    There was nothing surprising about searches having been conducted here. The first one was probably right after Zhou was put in detention, and then they continued after his death.
    “I was just assigned to the case,” Chen said, taking out his business card. “My colleagues may not have told me everything. In fact, I’m only serving as a consultant to the team. But first let me express my sincere condolences, Mrs. Zhou.”
    She examined his business card; then a visible change of expression came over her face.
    “Oh, come on in,” she said, holding the door for him. “It’s so unfair, Chief Inspector Chen. Zhou did a great job for the city. All this happened because of a pack of cigarettes. I just don’t understand.”
    Chen sat down on a black leather sofa in the spacious living room, and she perched herself on a chair opposite.
    “I must have met Zhou at some government meeting, but I didn’t know him personally. Nonetheless, there’s no denying all the work he did on new construction in Shanghai,” said Chen.
    “But no one has taken that into consideration. People talked about nothing but that pack of 95 Supreme Majesty. It was given to him by an old friend. He told the Party Discipline officials all about it. They should have let him explain to the public, but instead they rushed him into shuanggui. No one would help him. All