she quickly checked her other e-mail. She was just about to log out when the computer informed her that she had new mail. It was from Ma:
Inspector Liu,
I am sorry to hear about Brian. We believe he accidentally fell in the river. The current is swift and dangerous here, but we’ve been lucky until now.
The reply was terse, but Hulan assumed that Ma probably didn’t want to deal with the Ministry of Public Security. The less said, the less likely that something might be misconstrued. It was a policy Hulan herself used on many occasions.
She logged out and went back upstairs to Zai’s office.
“I’ve made the identification,” she announced. “Brian McCarthy, your foreigner, was working at an archaeological site on the Yangzi River. The local Public Security Bureau ought to be able to take it from here.”
“Perhaps,” the vice minister said, then added, “Let’s walk.”
They went outside and stood in the shade of the porte cochere. As always, a few men—investigators of the third rank—played half-court basketball. They were strong men, tough in their jobs, but not particularly good athletes.
“Why didn’t you tell me before what you knew?” Hulan asked Zai.
“What was there to tell? Like the Americans, we sent out notices and made the usual inquiries when we were first informed McCarthy was missing, but really there was nothing to be done and no one to be assigned until he turned up.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She didn’t like hearing the agitation in her voice. “Am I being punished for what happened this morning?”
Against all rules regarding interactions with subordinates, Zai answered her honestly. “They don’t see your assignment to this case as a punishment. You’re a valuable asset to them.”
“Then let me do my real job! The All-Patriotic Society—”
“Are you forgetting that a threat has been made against your life?”
“I didn’t believe it for an instant.”
“Nor I. We have seen no violence from the Society’s leadership. Nevertheless, you killed one of their followers—”
“If she actually was—”
“You are now the ‘mother killer,’” he reasoned patiently. “Retribution may come not from the top but from someone who saw what happened this morning on his television screen.”
“That might not have happened if they hadn’t sent the television crew!”
“You wouldn’t have been seen if you hadn’t shot that woman,” he countered. “Your actions caused you to be noticed. You will be safer if you leave town for a while, and it will be easier to protect you if the foreign press picks up the story.” He held up a hand to prevent her from interrupting him. “But you must try to look beyond the mistakes of this morning. This is an opportunity for you to come back to the types of cases you do so well. Life and death, this is what you know. This is what you’re able to read better than anyone in the building. I want to see you do what you do best. I want you to remember your job.”
“How can I ever forget my job? I’ve done everything they ever asked of me, and this is how they show their gratitude?”
“What happened to you, Hulan? There was a time when you would have asked for this case.”
“You know better than anyone in the world what happened to me,” she shot back. Zai was the one who’d brought her back to Beijing during the Cultural Revolution to denounce her father. Zai was the one who’d sent her into exile to America. He’d been by her side for every catastrophe in her life, including the death of her child.
“You can’t keep blaming yourself,” he said. He lowered his voice and added, “You have to start living your life again.”
“I can’t,” she admitted.
“We all have walls around our lives. Some are imposed on us. Some we impose on ourselves.” He edged closer to her and squeezed her upper arm. “You and I both know that the trick to survival is how we choose to live within those constraints. Do we