Shanghai Panorama by Joseph Zeo

Introduction
I had never been to a Chinese funeral before, much less one conducted in the
ancient Taoist tradition. The smoke and noise were simply overwhelming. The
eye-stinging incense was smothering, with, I suspected, the sole purpose of
making the guests cry regardless of their feelings for the deceased. Yellow-clad
monks chanted ceaselessly with various bells, while relatives and servants burned
paper money to send to the dead, lest the soul lacked the cash to bribe the
guards in the underworld.

Lei Ping Chien’s daughter was only seventeen years of age. Her face in the portrait
at the altar shone with youth and vivacity, but her body lay still in the wooden
coffin. Lei was completely shattered; she couldn’t believe the pearl of her heart
would depart the world like that, hung dead in a chapel with a parting note in her
school jacket. That was three days ago. Lei insisted that Clara was murdered, but
the authorities just wouldn’t accept her case.

“The evidence proved that Clara Chien had committed suicide.” The Shanghai
Municipality police simply waved Lei off. Chinese deaths were often overlooked in
this city, for there were too many killings each day on the streets of Shanghai. The
risk of sudden death was omnipresent.

As I waited in line to pay my last respects to the girl in the coffin, Lei grabbed hold
of my sleeve. In tears she whispered, “Felix Fances, please.” That was all she
would allow herself to plead, in the proper oriental demeanor.

I had known Lei since I first landed in Shanghai. She used to be a lady of the dance
hall. Her sort knew everything about the underbelly of Shanghai. Triad bosses
loved to drink and complete business in its dazzling lights; the girls heard it all and
pretended to know nothing. Lei was my first contact in this city. She had moved
onwards and upwards since then, and had become the third wife of a wealthy
businessman, Fushan Chien. Her past was behind her, or so she hoped; but
Shanghai was never a simple world.

Lei had been a beautiful woman, and her deceased daughter was a mirror image
of her youth. As I stood looking at the wax-like corpse of what used to be a
promising young lady, I couldn’t help but ask myself, “Was it really a suicide? If
not, who in the world could have done this to such a young, innocent girl?” The
incident happened three days previously, all traces were growing cold. I decided
to visit the scene of the 'suicide' as soon as I could.
Crime Scene
Clara Chien went to the best Catholic school money combined with power could
pull off. The monthly school tuition equalled the salary of a seamstress for two
years. The school chapel itself was small but stunning; once inside, you could
easily believe yourself to be in Europe. I walked down the centre aisle, examining
this serene house of God where Clara’s life was taken away. I wondered where
her soul went, to the Taoist underworld or the Christian heaven.

Suddenly I heard sobbing behind me and I turned around to see Lei. Apparently,
all rituals were finally over.

“They found her there.” Lei pointed a trembling finger at a ceiling fan right next to
the grand piano. I walked towards the sanctuary.

“Who were ‘they’?” I asked, “Who found Clara?”

“The teachers. I think the first one here was Miss Nelson.”

I took off my shoes and climbed onto the grand piano. My finger could barely
touch the ceiling fan. “How tall was Clara?” I asked.

“She was about my height, no taller than five foot three.”

I was much taller than the young girl; someone else would need to fix that rope
up there. As I was climbing down, I noticed a few strands of hair pulled from the
root stuck between the keys. I sat on the piano to examine the strands. Just then,
an irate lady with a high collared blouse came striding down the aisle towards me.

“Who let you in? This is a Holy chapel, for goodness sake! Who gave you the
authorization to SIT ON the piano?” She grilled me with a British accent.

“Oh Miss Nelson,” Lei interfered, “Sorry, this is Felix Fances, whom I asked to look
into Clara’s death.”

“Mrs. Chien, Clara killed herself.” Miss Nelson stated as a matter of fact, then her
tone softened, “I know it is hard to accept, but the chapel was locked from the
inside at the time. I thought the girls were acting up again, and I had to retrieve
the caretaker to unlock the door in order to enter.”

“And then you found her hanging from the ceiling fan?” I asked.

“Yes.” The teacher looked away.

“Was there any ladder around? Anything she could stand on?”

“Well, detective, you yourself had just climbed down from the grand piano. Clara
could have easily swung herself out from there, given the close proximity.”

I simply nodded. “And that’s what everybody, including the police believed?” I
already knew the answer to that.

Miss Heather Nelson told us where to find her if we needed any other help,
especially before we ‘examined’ anything else. She then left me with Lei.
Apparently, monetary contribution to the school did provide extra benefits.

So, the room was sealed, so to speak. I looked at the stained glass windows
around the chapel; there was no other way out. I went into the storage area
behind the sanctuary. There was an operable window in the corner. I looked out
and found an indented footprint on the soil.

Before we left, Lei hesitantly pulled out an envelope. “This was in Clara’s school
jacket when she died, but I can tell it was not her own handwriting.”

I took the note and examined it; every character was squarish and very neat. “It’s
written in Chinese. What does it say?”

Lei stuttered something generic, as if she was too embarrassed to repeat what
was said in the note. I had a feeling she was not telling me the whole truth. I
would have to ask someone else to look at the note for me.
Investigation
Lei Chien
When I first arrived in Shanghai, Lei had been the first person willing to help me.
She had been more than just a contact, she had been a friend, and I hated to see
her so sad. But even though she was deeply distressed by Clara's death, Lei's eyes
lit with hope when she saw me, and she briefly put aside her grief.

"Hello Detective, I am so grateful to you for your help," said Lei, her voice low.
"Thank you for believing me when nobody else will. I know Clara would not have
done the awful thing they said."

Detective: "May I ask where you were the afternoon Clara died?"
Lei Chien: “Everyone knew I went to the barber shop that day.” Lei touched her
hair. “I go there every Saturday."

Detective: "Who would want to hurt you or your daughter?"

Lei Chien: “You know very well about my past. You know what I did for my living,
and the types of people who often were there. I may have heard more than I
bargained for. Lately, some people have come back into my life… Kazuo Yakamoto
for one, a prominent Eastern Triad member. He has close connections to the
Japanese military. Years ago, he came to the dance hall with some of his Military
friends, and they talked of great plans…”

Lei looked away, afraid to go on. I put my hand her on her shoulder and squeezed;
Lei began to cry uncontrollably. “He said if I told anyone… I really haven't, but
what if he didn't believe me? Clara...” She looked devastated. I hugged Lei tightly
and patted her on her back.
Twist #1
“Father was right, you ARE a whore!”

A young girl of about fifteen stood by the stairway. She was wearing a stylish
yellow dress with matching hat. I thought I remembered her from the funeral.

"Hey, what did I do to deserve that kind of language?" I said, surprised.

The girl rolled her eyes. "I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about her," she
said, pointing at Lei but refusing to look at her. Finally, she glared at me and
stormed off.

“I’m sorry. That was Dora, Clara’s younger sister. She was always her daddy’s girl,
too spoiled for her own good, always fighting for my attention. Please, she meant
you no harm.”
The Lucky Shear
I went to the Lucky Shear barber shop, a one man operation that shared a small
space with an old snake wine merchant.

I wanted to talk to Shen Fei, the Barber.

Detective: “Did Lei Chien visit you on Saturday?”

Shen Fei (Barber): “She is always here on Saturdays! Very loyal customer;
remembers her roots." The barber was blinking uncontrollably - even a child could
tell he was lying. It didn't take long to get some truths out of him. “Oh, You mean
LAST Saturday? Ah, that day she wasn’t around... but usually she was here, I
swear.” The barber finally confessed, but he still seemed nervous. Why?
Kazuo Yakamoto
I'd had dealings with the Eastern Triad before and Kazuo Yakamoto was a name I
was familiar with. He had risen quickly due to his close connections with the
armed forces. Already, rumors of military Japan taking over Korea and other
neighboring islands had instilled fear within the orient. It was only a matter of
time before the ambitious empire set their eyes on the land next door.

Yakamoto bought himself a nice home by the river beside the Tea Shop, and loved
to share his wealth with those who were willing. A strong odor of opium lingered
in his living room. I greeted the Japanese man and cut to the chase.

“Lei Chien may have heard something she shouldn’t have, many years ago,” I
stated.

“Maybe she did.”

“And you warned her.”

“Maybe I did.”

“And now her daughter is dead.”

“Well, well, what a coincidence. That should teach Lei to mind her own business.”

Detective: "So you're confessing to the crime?"

Kazuo Yakamoto: Yakamoto stood and arrogantly examined his collection of jade
sculptures and antique jars. “Detective, unless you have hard proof, I think you
are wasting your time.”

Detective: "Could you tell me where you were the past Saturday afternoon?"
Kazuo Yakamoto: Kazuo simply laughed. He looked at me and shook his head,
smiling.

Detective: "Would you happen to know anyone who wanted to hurt the girl?
Kazuo Yakamoto: “Shanghai is such a beautiful city, a promise of what the rest of
China can become, and everyone wants a piece of it. We have here the English
Quarter, the French Quarter… so much variety. And the Chinese in Shanghai, they
are as divided as this city is.

“We’re not the only group hiding behind this serene surrounding, detective.”
Kazuo continued, indicating the teashop next door. “A small group of young
people always talks of revolution and a better tomorrow. I believe I’ve seen Clara
there quite a number of times."
Heather Nelson
Heather Nelson looked like the quintessential school teacher; her hair was in a
plain bun with not one lock out of place, and she wore a long, dark skirt with a
high-collared, long-sleeved blouse. I found her in her office, delivering a blistering
lecture to one of the students.

My appearance in her doorway seemed to irritate her, but she dismissed the
student and primly asked me what I wanted.

Detective: "Did you leave the school the day Clara was killed?"
Heather Nelson: “You mean when she committed suicide?” the teacher said,
refusing to believe any other possibility. “I actually went to the tea shop to get
some exotic brew for my friends back in England. When I returned to school, I
noticed the door to the chapel was closed, which is unusual. As I mentioned, I
thoughts the girls were acting up again.”

Detective: "What kind of student was Clara?"

Heather Nelson: “Darling Clara,” Heather sighed, “was the ideal student. God
bless her soul. She and Xin Ling Song were the best students in school and were
very good friends. I heard that they usually spend their time by the river.”

Detective: "Did Clara have any enemies?"

Heather Nelson: “Oh my, Detective! We are talking about schoolgirls, for
heaven’s sake! You shouldn’t even be thinking the children could commit such
horrible deeds!” Miss Nelson exclaimed. “No, aside from the usual sibling quarrel
with her sister Dora, Clara was friends with everyone. She was an idealistic child.”
Dora Chien
Dora was a sulky, spoilt child who only blossomed when she was the center of
attention. She appeared to bask in the attention she thought I was about to give
her, but pouted when she realised I wanted to ask about her sister.

Detective: "What you said to your mother was a horrible accusation."

Dora Chien: Dora smirked. “Come on, I’m old enough to understand what mother
used to be. All dance hall girls were for sale. Father always loved me more
because Clara was born “prematurely”. Maybe father finally came to his senses
and got rid of Clara for good."

Detective: "Where were you the afternoon Clara died?"

Dora Chien: “It was Saturday. I was with my friends at the Golden Garden
Restaurant.”

“Isn’t that a bit pricey for a young girl like you?”

"Not if my father wants his true daughter to be happy," Dora replied with a nasty
smirk.

Detective: "I understand you and your sister went to the same school. Was she
close to anyone?"
Dora Chien: Dora looked annoyed. “Talk to Xin Ling Song, they were practically
twins.”

“Where could I find her?”

“She loves to mingle with the lowliest of people.” The girl was speaking in riddles,
and refused to explain.
Fish Market
I went to the local Fish Market. A cluster of men stood around three large tables
haggling over the fragrant wares.

I wanted to talk to Shaiming Bao, the Fish Monger.

Detective: “Do you know a girl named Xin Ling Song?”

Shaiming Bao (Fish Monger): “Yes, Xin Ling is a wonder girl. She has helped us out
so much! Always tells us we deserve to live better. I think she is down with the
Lao family right now.” The fish monger pointed at a small boat house down the
wharf.
Xin Ling Song
The little wharf by the fish market was filled with poorly equipped fishing boats.
The most under-privileged in Shanghai tried to survive here, barely scraping a
living. I was surprised that a girl from the most prestigious school in all of China
would spend her days here.

I spotted a group mending nets, and called out for Xin Ling. She turned out to be a
tall young woman with a determined expression. I introduced myself and she
agreed to answer my questions.

Detective: “The day Clara was killed, were you with her?"
Xin Ling Song: “No, I had business at the Tea shop.”

Detective: “Did Clara have any enemies?"

Xin Ling Song: “Not really, Clara was a gentle soul. Sometimes I think her problem
was that she tried to please everybody, but the world isn’t like that. You have to
take your stand. Miss Nelson wasn’t happy that I taught Clara to think for herself.
She supposed all girls should live a sheltered life.”

Xin Ling went back to mending the net. Her delicate hands weren't used to the
difficult task, but the strong-minded girl managed well. Suddenly, she stopped.
“Come to think of it, now that you’ve mentioned enemies, Clara’s sister Dora has
always been antagonistic towards her. If you haven’t talked to her, maybe you
should.”
Thousand Blessings Teas
Against my better judgement, I went to Thousand Blessings Teahouse, a raucous
hangout popular with laborers and travelers.

The city leadership of the Eastern Triads had a space in the back where they
discussed their dark business.

I wanted to talk to Park Fang, the Tea Merchant.

Detective: "Besides the Triad, does a small group meet here often?"
Park Fang (Tea Merchant): “Ah yes, these young people are always very polite,
always talk of helping the poor. I think they called themselves socialists. You can
talk to Deng Tuen, he is very loyal to his calling and is the leader of this small
gathering.” The Tea Merchant then gave me an address.

Detective: "Did Heather Nelson come here last Saturday afternoon?"

Park Fang (Tea Merchant): The Tea Merchant grumbled, “Yes she was here
wasting my time. I thought a nice lady like her would buy expensive tealeaves, but
she ended up getting only 5 ounces of Jasmine.”

Detective: "Did Xin Ling Song come here last Saturday afternoon?"
Park Fang (Tea Merchant): “Yes, she was here for her weekly meeting.”
Golden Garden Restaurant
I headed over to the Golden Garden, an upscale restaurant on the south side of
town. The food smelled great, but it was a little out of my price range.

I wanted to talk to Tammy Lin, the Waitress.

Detective: “Was Dora Chien here last Saturday afternoon?”

Tammy Lin (Waitress): “Yes, she was here with all her young friends. They
ordered two giant lobsters and shark fin soup, amongst other dishes. I wish I had
money to spend like that,” the waitress said enviously.
Fushan Chien
Fushan Chien pulled up to the gate of his mansion in a shining black Packard. I
waved to get his attention, and waited while an armed bodyguard exited the
vehicle and came over to stand by me. While he watched my every move, Chien
rolled down his window and gave me an inquiring look.

"Mr. Chien, I have been hired by your wife to look into your daughter's death.
May I ask you a few questions?"

Fushan signaled his guard to step back, and smirked at me. "Lei hired you to dig in
her own mire?" He laughed. "Just proof of her foolishness. Of all people, it is she
who would most benefit from Clara's death."

Lei's husband stepped out of the gleaming car and leaned casually against the
door. "You have two minutes.”

Detective: "May I ask what you were doing on the day Clara died?"
Fushan Chien: “My business is my business, and no one else’s.”

Detective: "Why did you say that Lei would benefit the most from Clara’s
death?"
Fushan Chien: “That child should not have existed in the first place. Maybe she
finally came to realize she will not receive any inheritance with such a shame in
the family. I will not say more on this matter,” Fushan replied, stiff with injured
dignity.

Detective: "Who else might want to hurt Clara?"

Fushan Chien: Fushan examined his manicured fingernails. “Go to the Grand
Theatre and look for a chap named Dickie Yau, if he still dares to be in town.” His
voice suddenly flared angrily. “He was receiving money from my wife.”
Lei Chien
I hated to intrude on Lei's grief, but I needed to, to further my investigation.
When she lifted her eyes to mine, I saw no trace of her earlier tears, but her eyes
were still troubled.

"What else do you need, old friend?" she asked.

Detective: “Your barber confessed you weren’t there the day Clara was killed.
Where were you?”
Lei Chien: Lei sighed. “It catches up to you, doesn’t it? So many people coming
back in my life these days…”

The former dance hall lady lit a cigarette. “In my younger days, I was in love with a
man who worked as a waiter in the dance hall. We both needed money that
neither of us could give to each other. The romance ended before spring and I left
him to be the third wife of this wealthy man. I had to take care of my child.”

“So you were pregnant before you married Fushan?” I was not surprised at all.

Lei gave a weak smile and looked into my eyes, “Does it matter any more?” She
began to weep, thinking again of Clara.

I comforted Lei, her sobs slowly subsiding until I could ask, “Did he know about
the daughter?”

Lei inhaled, shivering. “It is fate, I tell you. Clara and I went to the Grand Theatre
about a month ago and I saw him there, working as a stagehand. He saw Clara,
and the bastard actually went to check on Clara’s date of birth. He realized he
could be the father and came around to extort money from me, saying that he’d
tell Fushan if I did not pay him. That’s where I was these past few Saturdays;
bargaining with him in the theatre.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

Lei shook her head. “I'd only meet Dickie Yau in the theatre, but I don’t think he’d
hurt Clara. You don’t really need to find him.”
Research #1
I headed to City Hall to look through the police reports for the Saturday Clara was
murdered. I was surpsied when I ran across a familiar name: Lei Chien, my client
and long time contact.

According to reports, Lei had been involved in a fight with a man named Dickie
Yau at the Grand Theatre. Lei had claimed that Dickie was blackmailing her, but
later withdrew the allegation. A trip to the Grand Theatre would have to be my
next stop.
Grand Theatre
I went to the Grand Theatre, the nexus of Shanghai society.

I wanted to talk to Patricia Green, the Stage Manager.

Detective: “Can you tell me where Dickie Yau is?”

Patricia Green (Stage Manager): Patricia pointed at the dressing room at the
back. “Trust only half of what the guy says,” she said, her lips curving in a half
smile. That was comforting; at least half of what he’d say would be real. I just
need to figure out which half.
Dickie Yau
In one of the dressing rooms of the Grand Theatre, a middle-aged man leered at
passing chorus girls. His attention turned to me when I approached, and I was
faced with a man who had destroyed his youthful good looks with hard living.

After confirming that he was Dickie Yau, I asked if he knew Clara Chien.

"Yeah, I know her," he said. "Nice girl, well brought up. She will make her father
proud," he continued, looking like the cat that had caught the canary. I could
almost see the fluffy yellow feathers at the corner of his mouth.

“She died three days ago. I guess you were not invited to her funeral?”

His jaws dropped, yelled something in Chinese and dashed for the door.

“Not until we’re finished here, Mr. Yau.” I barred the doorway with my arm. “I
have been hired by Lei Chien to investigate the death of her daughter.”

Dickie Yau was furious. He claimed that Lei robbed him of his daughter, accusing
Lei of the murder simply because Clara found out about her origin.

“From what I know, you wanted money from Mrs. Chien.”

Dickie laughed, “Is that what she told you? Was it wrong to ask for an old flame
for a friendly hand out? I was doing her a service! That hag! “

“And what service would that be?”

The man gave a twisted smile, “Third wife got no affection from her big, rich
husband. She came here every Saturday for the past year!" He laughed nastily. “I
always asked one of the girls to fix her hair so that everyone thought she went to
the Barber Shop instead.”

I doubted Lei would ever confirm Dickie's claims, but it did prove that Lei was
nowhere near Clara when she died.

Detective: "Where were you this past Saturday?"

Dickie Yau: “I was working, right here in the theatre. Saturdays are usually a full
house, you know.”

Detective: "Who would want to hurt Clara?"

Dickie Yau: "You found out about me easily enough. What makes you think Lei's
rich, powerful husband couldn't? Dickie reasoned. "Poor Clara. Chien would have
considered her a disgrace to his name. To a man like him, saving face is
everything."

As he finished speaking, what he’d just said seemed to penetrate Dickie’s brain,
and a look of fear began to spread across his face. I left him to deal with his own
can of worms.
Grand Theatre
I went to the Grand Theatre, the nexus of Shanghai society.

I wanted to talk to Patricia Green, the Stage Manager.

Detective: “Did Dickie come to work this past Saturday?”

Patricia Green (Stage Manager): “Yes, that over-age Casanova was around,”
Patricia nodded. “He knows he’d be out of a job if he wasn’t. But last Saturday...
that's the day he got into a fight with some woman, and they ended up going to
the police.”
Deng Tuen
Deng Tuen lived in a modest house near the silk market. Aside from a full shelf of
books, Deng didn’t have many possessions. He offered me tea and sat across from
me, a reserved suspicion in his eyes.

Detective: "Where were you this past Saturday afternoon?"

Deng Tuen: “We had our weekly gathering at the Tea Shop, which I always
attend."

Detective: "I know about the gatherings, and that Clara was part of this
revolutionary group."
Deng Tuen: “Revolution… well we are not there yet, but yes, we do hope that it
will come one day.” Deng smiled. “We learned a lot from our neighboring
brothers, the Russians. Mr. Joseph Stalin is the leader of this great new order. He
just launched the economic collectivization, and it promises equality for everyone.
The currently suppressed and under-privileged shall be on level with the rich and
powerful.

"We have a great tutor here, a very connected man, Yavik Ivanov. He has helped
us a lot in our growth as a group.”

Detective: "Who is he and where would I find him?"

Deng Tuen: “Mr. Ivanov is member of the GRU, Russia’s largest intelligence
agency. He’s a very connected man,” Deng warned, and told me Yavik’s
whereabouts. He added, “He loves to do favors for people, but his favors always
come with a price.”

Detective: "Who might want to hurt Clara?"

Deng Tuen: Deng thought for a while. “Well, I don’t want to be the one to point
this out… but Clara had been a bit ‘too close’ with this other girl, Xin Ling Song.
This may sound strange, but their relationship was… un-natural. You may want to
talk to her if you haven’t already. If you want to find her, try looking amongst the
poor families that live by the docks."
Twist #2
As I was about to leave Deng's place, I saw a stack of notes on his table. I picked
up a sheet of paper filled with very square chinese writing.

"These notices promote fairness and equality. We produce them by hand," Deng
said. He noticed me staring at it. "Hm, I didn't know you read Chinese..."

"I don't. It's just.... Who wrote these?" I asked.

"Ah, very neat, isn't it? This stack was actually copied by Xin Ling. You can take a
sheet if you like," Deng offered.

I brought the notice to the Calligrapher, along with the suicide note, which I had
kept in my pocket. Upon close examination, the old man confirmed without a
doubt that the suicide note had been written by Xin Ling Song.
Calligraphist
There was a quiet city park favored by artists and the Shanghai philosopher
crowd. Quiet types mostly, not really my scene, but I wasn't there looking for
enlightenment.

I wanted to talk to Lok Jiang, the Calligraphist.

Detective: “Can you tell me what this note says?”

Lok Jiang (Calligraphist): The old Calligraphist looked at the note and his eyes
widened. He swiftly handed me back the note. “How dare you give me something
like that to read! I am a respectable man! This girl died in shame.” The
Calligraphist leaned back, looking judgemental. “The note talked of a love
uncalled for, someone she had been in carnal love with for a long time. Do not be
fooled, detective. Shanghai may look modern and westernized, but in our bones
we are a traditional people. There are boundaries that should never be crossed.
Especially for girls!” The old man solemnly returned to writing with his bamboo
brush. I had a feeling Clara’s family knew nothing about it, but someone in the
school might.
Heather Nelson
I needed to speak with Miss Nelson again. I found her at her desk, reviewing tests.
The sight aroused my sympathy for her students; every time she found a question
answered incorrectly, her smile grew smug and she drew a large 'X' in red ink on
the page.

She did not look at all happy to be interrupted. Clearly, her current activity was
her one true joy.

Detective: “Was Clara in a relationship?”

Heather Nelson: Her experienced eyes looked up from the exercise books. “This
has nothing to do with anything. Our students come from well-respected and
powerful families from around the world. You know young women here will be
married off according to their parents’ wishes in the greater circle of needs.” Miss
Nelson’s lips tightened, and she muttered, “With whom their juvenile minds may
‘fall in love’ is irrelevant. Even when sinful.”

I dropped the subject and shrugged. Clara’s teacher obviously wasn’t going to tell
me anything, but her face looked like a thundercloud. As I walked off, I managed
to put two and two together. Some loves are forbidden, especially to the
fervently religious…
Xin Ling Song
I wanted to speak with Clara's best friend again. I found her back on the docks,
mending more nets. She calmly met my eyes and nodded in greeting.

Detective: “Do you know Clara’s boyfriend?"

Xin Ling Song: “Clara does not have a boyfriend,” Xin Ling replied. I showed her
the suicide note. She seemed shocked, but tried to cover it.

“I cannot read Chinese, but from what I heard, this is about ‘a love uncalled for’. I
know what this society is like, that girls do not get to choose whom they marry.”

Xin sighed. “I myself am pledged to marry the son of a rich silk merchant."

“I just need to talk to him, I mean the boy no harm,” I said gently.

“I told you, Clara does not have a boyfriend. You are chasing a ghost. We were too
busy caring for the injustice around us,” Xin Ling insisted. “Look around you, these
people live in a world of inequality. A revolution is coming, maybe not in my life
time, but it will come.”

“Sounds like you two were quite involved with making this new world happen,” I
prodded.

“Yes, although Clara had been busy with school activities lately and our leader is
not very pleased,” Xin Ling replied. “We have a weekly meeting at the Tea Shop.
The leader of our student group is Deng Tuen. He is a learned man and always
speaks of a new tomorrow. You can learn so much from him.” Xin Ling gladly told
me where to find him.

Detective: “I have checked, this is your handwriting. What do you have to say?"
Xin Ling Song: Xin Ling cast her eyes down at the ocean and sighed. “This was
supposed to be my own suicide note. I did not put Clara’s name, or mine on it, but
it professed our love for each other. I was pledged to marry soon, and I did not
know what to do. I was planning to drown myself, here, but Clara found out and
stopped me, and took the note.”
Xin Ling lifted her head and looked me in the eye, “I assure you, detective, Clara
did not kill herself.”

Clara did not kill herself, that was true, but was this girl before my eyes really
innocent?
Yavik Ivanov
Yavik Ivanov always had a smile on his lips - a smile that never touched his eyes.
He regarded me from hooded eyes, and greeted me by a childhood nickname that
no one in this city knew. A chill ran up my spine. It didn't bother me that he knew
that particular name. But I could think of no good reason why he would have
bothered to learn it.

Unless, of course, he did little things like that to impress people or to cause them
to fear him. Realising this, didn't fully dispel the chill I felt, but it did make me
straighten my spine and look him in the eye.

Detective: “Where were you this past Saturday afternoon?"

Yavik Ivanov: “I was with the Calligraphist, learning how to write Russian and
English names in Chinese.” Yavik grinned.

I was sure he was learning it to hire Chinese assassins to do his work for him.

Detective: “Have you heard of a girl named Clara Chien?"

Yavik Ivanov: “Clara Chien.” The Russian paused, as if he was processing the
name in his head. “Ah, the girl who just started the process of converting to
Catholicism. I have spoken in the socialist group she used to be in. The group is in
its infancy, but with Deng’s fervent loyalty to our ideal, I know it holds a lot of
promise.”

I figured that answered my question, but he continued.

“Clara is also the daughter to Fushan and Lei Chien, if Fushan even believes that
she is really his.” Yavik smiled, and continued, “Kazuo Yakamoto of the Eastern
Triad knows how much Lei loves her daughters, and he would do anything to
make sure Lei appreciates the virtue of keeping secrets.”

“You certainly know a lot about her," I said casually.

The Russian smiled. “I am a man of information; a man who often needs favors
and shares knowledge in exchange for what I need." Was Clara a 'favor' he did for
someone? I looked into his eyes; they gave me no hint.
"Consider this a favor I just did for you, detective.”

"Oh, but I don't," I replied easily. "I only asked a question - you chose to answer
it."

The GRU agent narrowed his eyes, but I refused to back down. "Well then,
perhaps in future we will trade favors."

"Perhaps," I replied calmly, not meaning it.

Calligraphist
There was a quiet city park favored by artists and the Shanghai philosopher
crowd. Quiet types mostly, not really my scene, but I wasn't there looking for
enlightenment.

I wanted to talk to Lok Jiang, the Calligraphist.

Detective: “Did Yavik Ivanov visit you this past Saturday?”

Lok Jiang (Calligraphist): “Ya... who?” The old Calligraphist asked. I said the name
again slowly and told him Ivanov was a tall Russian man. Jiang then shook his
head. “No foreigner visited me last Saturday."
Heather Nelson
I needed to speak with Miss Nelson again. I found her at her desk, reviewing tests.
The sight aroused my sympathy for her students; every time she found a question
answered incorrectly, her smile grew smug and she drew a large 'X' in red ink on
the page.

She did not look at all happy to be interrupted. Clearly, her current activity was
her one true joy.

Detective: “Is it true Clara was planning to convert to Catholicism?”

Heather Nelson: The teacher smiled, which she rarely did. "Yes, God bless her
soul. It really made the school very happy. Too bad her parents insisted on a
traditional Chinese burial. Poor girl."
Twist #3
I left the school wondering what Clara's converting to the Catholic faith had to do
with anything. She was, in the end, buried in the traditional Taoist ceremony,
probably according to the wishes of her family.

As I walked through the city, I noticed a number of people following me.

Amateurs, it turned out, as it didn't take long for me to lose them.

Amateurs following me. Something didn't seem right about that, but I couldn't
put my finger on it.

I didn't know who my followers were, but their faces were young and their steps
swift. My only regret was that I hadn't caught any of them, either.
Deng Tuen
Deng Tuen was sitting in his sparse living room, reading. Upon my arrival he put
his book aside and asked what I wanted.

Detective: "I heard that Clara intended to convert to Catholicism. Is that in

conflict with your beliefs?"
Deng Tuen: Deng sighed. "Religion in general is a dogma to enslave people's
mind. Mr. Darwin has given scientific explanations for our origins, but old ideas
die hard. I was sad to know Clara fell into that trap."

Just then some students arrived at Deng's place. Apparently he met with several
different student groups. I felt that I had overstayed my welcome and left.
Lei Chien
I hated to intrude on Lei's grief, but I needed to, to further my investigation.
When she lifted her eyes to mine, I saw no trace of her earlier tears, but her eyes
were still troubled.

"What else do you need, old friend?" she asked.

Detective: "Why was Clara buried in the Taoist tradition? I've heard your
daughter was converting to Catholicism."
Lei Chien: Lei sighed. "We sent the girls to the best school in Shanghai, which just
happens to be a Catholic school. However, Clara's father is very strict and
traditional regarding religious beliefs. I don't believe he knew she was planning to
convert; had he known, he would have pulled her from the school immediately."
Fushan Chien
I wanted to speak with Fushan Chien out of earshot of his wife and daughter, so I
waited by the gate. When the Packard finally pulled up to the gate, the chauffeur
nearly ran me down before coming to a stop.

Chien rolled the window down and raised his eyebrows. "Yes? You need
something else?"

Detective: “Were you aware Clara was planning to convert to Catholicism?”

Fushan Chien: "Was she?" The wealthy businessman frowned, but I got the
feeling he had known. "Well, my daughter wanted to be a 'modern woman'.
Religion, new ideas... A proper girl should never run around like that." He gave me
a measuring look. "Perhaps this is why she is dead now. Had she been a good girl,
a traditional girl like Dora..."

It was hard for me to bite my tongue, but I did. I wouldn't shatter Chien's illusions
about Dora; no doubt it would kill him when she shattered them herself.

With a curt nod, Fushan Chien rolled up his window and the chauffeur guided the
automobile through the gates, away from me.
Thousand Blessings Teas
Against my better judgement, I went to Thousand Blessings Teahouse, a raucous
hangout popular with laborers and travelers.

The city leadership of the Eastern Triads had a space in the back where they
discussed their dark business.

I wanted to talk to Park Fang, the Tea Merchant.

Detective: "Did Deng Tuen come here last Saturday afternoon?"

Park Fang (Tea Merchant): “Strangely enough, Deng came only in the evening. He
wasn’t here for his weekly meeting all afternoon.”
Conclusion
The footprint was a perfect match with that of Deng Tuen’s, and he’d missed his
regular weekly gathering the afternoon Clara was killed. I went to confront him.

Deng was in his unadorned living room, having tea with three youths. Everything
seemed outwardly serene, but there was much going on just under the surface,
just like China.

“You can pretend all you want, Deng, but the evidence will never lie.”

“That’s too bad,” Deng replied without bothering to look up, “because the rest of
the world does.”

I suddenly realized that people had silently entered the room behind me. A rope
dropped over my head, and someone pulled it taut. I tried to free myself, but
there were too many attackers. They were not particularly strong, but they were
extremely determined. I struggled for air.

"Do you know what is the problem with our world today, Felix Fances?" Still
drinking his tea, Deng said slowly, "People holding on to past lies."

"But we will change that." One of the young men beside Deng proudly said. “We
will be rid of the past, the old ways.”

"The past has to go, along with everything that is flawed," a girl with pigtails
stated. "Old thinking, old cultures, old practices, old habits."

"But Clara wasn't ready to do that, and we had to let her and her kind understand
how wrong they were..." I could barely hear what the group was saying by now;
everything was turning dark - I was losing consciousness. I had no choice but to
pull out my gun.

I fired backwards at random and heard a scream, but the rope tightened even
more. I fired again, and again, and again. Finally, the rope loosened.
I was coughing when I saw Deng running towards me. I aimed for his head,
knowing I was too weak still for a physical altercation. When Deng went down,
the rest of the students fled in terror.

I fell to the floor, kneeling. I put my hands down to support myself while I gasped
for air. It took a moment to realize my hands and knees had landed in pools of
blood; the blood of the young, misguided teenagers who had tried to kill me in
the name of ‘equality’.

A week later I heard that Dickie Yau had died. It was a crime I wanted no part of;
that was a murder for some other detective to worry about.

I feared for Lei’s safety, but a chance encounter with the Chien family at Golden
Garden Restaurant assured me that family dinners continued as if nothing had
happened. Young Dora was chatting pleasantly with her father, and he seemed
only too pleased to listen to her girlish chatter. Neither man nor girl ever
acknowledged the presence of the third wife.

I reckoned that Lei would have a place as long as Dora needed a mother. The
spoilt girl unknowingly became Lei’s protector.

The small group of idealists disbanded for about a month, and then a new leader
took over with the GRU’s support. I heard that Xin Ling became a student leader
with a great following. Her secrets were never revealed. Forces from the East
continued to plot their hostile takeover, while the Triad continued to claim more
territories and people. On a quiet day I would pour myself a hot cup of tea and
simply stare into the steam. It always reminded me of the incense at Clara's
funeral. The investigation into the young girl's death made me realize the
vastness of my surroundings. Somewhere between the Taoist underworld and the
Christian heaven, Shanghai existed - a place that was never simply what it
appeared to be.