‘I will.’

‘Then see you back in Shanghai soon. People are getting really worried.’

To Chen’s perplexity, after having inquired about his whereabouts, Li did not push hard for the purpose of his Wuxi trip. As for the last sentence, Chen thought he could detect a note of genuine worry in Li’s voice.

The inspector still held the phone in his hand. With complimentary Wi-Fi in the first-class car, he did a little research online and copied the link to an article about things for a tourist to do, to eat and to see in Shanghai.

He sent it to Zhao with a short message.

‘Having just talked with Party Secretary Li of the police bureau, I assured him about my doing the tourist guide job for you. And it’s true, as you can see from the article attached. Here are some ideas for your vacation in Shanghai. Of course, any time you need me, or anything else you want me to do, just let me know.

‘Given the air quality, however, it may not be a good idea to stay outside for too long. There are a number of excellent restaurants in Lujiazui, which are listed in the article. They are also very close to the hotel. You may try one of them.

‘In the meantime, I’m going to try to locate some environmental activists associated with her.’

It took Chen less than an hour to get to the office of Shanghai Literature from the Shanghai railway station via the subway.

The office was housed in the magnificent mansion of the Shanghai Writers’ Association on Julu Road. In the early 1950s, the Party government had taken the high-walled mansion from a ‘black family’ and turned it over to the association with offices of literature magazines and other institutions there related to the association.

Ouyang was not in the magazine office. Nanhua, the office assistant, gave him five copies of the issue in a large envelope.

But to his disappointment, she could hardly give him anything new or useful in addition to what Ouyang had already told him. Except that the address of the other requester of the magazine was an office suite on the twenty-fifth floor in the China Petroleum Building in Beijing. She failed to recall the name of the office, so she turned to the page in the logbook bearing the name and address of the receiver.

‘Mrs Zhu Yi, Room 22–24, Floor 25th, China Petroleum Building, Beijing.’

China Petroleum Building housed China Petroleum Ministry, no question about it. As far as Nanhua knew, those skyscraping buildings usually rented out rooms or even floors to other offices or companies not necessarily related to the industry. It could take quite a while to check out what office Mrs Zhu Yi was working in. Nanhua had no idea as to how to begin such a search.

So it was no more than ten minutes later that Chen walked out of the magazine office carrying a large envelope containing five copies of Shanghai Literature.