French Concession by Bai Xiao

Author:Bai, Xiao [Bai, Xiao]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-04-10T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 28

JUNE 24, YEAR 20 OF THE REPUBLIC.

4:18 P.M.

Hsueh was brought to the sergeant’s office. His identity papers lay on the table open to the last page, alongside a wooden hat, a catalog of European furniture, and a vial of peppermint oil to keep the mosquitoes away. A green blackboard hung near the door, with a list of to-dos for the day scribbled on it in white chalk. A huge arrow had been added between 3:00 P.M. and 5:00 P.M., hours that should have been spent drinking tea and smoking in the cool of the sergeant’s own office. The words SINGAPORE HOTEL had been circled.

The telephone was on the wall next to the blackboard.

“Was there something you wanted to say to me?” the sergeant said.

“I’d like to make a phone call to Lieutenant Sarly of the Political Section. Call and tell him Hsueh wants to speak to him.”

“So we think we know a few bigwigs, do we?” The sergeant stretched his legs out to let the breeze filter into his pant legs.

When he got Lieutenant Sarly on the line, he sounded impatient. Hsueh could hear rustling sounds that meant either Sarly was reading something, or there was static on the line.

“And what were you doing in the Singapore Hotel?”

“A friend of mine is staying there.”

“A friend.” The voice gave no hint of what Sarly was thinking. “A lady friend?”

Hsueh didn’t know how much to reveal, and he had to make up his mind quickly. The line kept crackling. With probably no more than a few seconds left, he remembered that it wasn’t Leng the lieutenant was after. She wasn’t the protagonist of the story. In that case . . .

“If you trust me, I’ll make sure you get everything you want.”

“If I trust you? Have you given me any reason so far to trust you?” The static disappeared, making room for a vast silence. Sarly’s voice sounded thin, like a piece of thread in the wind, or an echo in a distant corridor.

Hsueh felt his position weaken. He didn’t realize that he was shouting. “This is really important! When you come to your senses, you’ll see all my reports piled on your desk.”

He put the phone down and waited for Sarly’s answer. He felt sorry for Leng. He thought about how hard she had tried to pretend to be sophisticated, in the hope that he could be “useful” to her cell. Then he remembered her weeping by the ship railing, and the blank look in her eyes when she had seen him. She never forgot she was a woman. Even when she was terrified, she had held down the slits in her cheongsam, as if the gesture would anchor her in reality. He began to worry about her. For a moment, it seemed to Hsueh that it would be worth risking anything at all, Lieutenant Sarly’s trust, even his friendship with Hsueh’s father, just to keep her safe.

An hour later, the poet from Marseille appeared.

An hour and a half later, he and Leng were walking out of North Gate Police Station.

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