‘Who could have taken the video?’

‘I don’t know. But the scene is unmistakable. You see, the door is not supposed to be locked, though no one there will ever bump in. To make sure of it, she’s stretching her foot hard against the door. That detail explains everything.’

‘Yes, everything.’

‘You can have the copy for your husband if he does not have one yet.’

‘That will really help, thank you so much.’ She added with a smile, ‘He may want me to bring more Zongzi to you in the future.’

‘That will be great, but you don’t have to come with Zongzi. Anything else I can do to help?’

‘About that morning, you have some more details?’

‘I work in the literature and art section, and I’ve learned things from Zhou, who’s also in Xiang’s section. In fact, Zhou showed her the ropes in the office when she first came here. I can ask around, and I’ll let you know when I get anything new.’ Lianping added casually, ‘By the way, what’s Chief Inspector Chen’s take?’

So finally she’s coming round to him. But Peiqin did not think she knew enough to say much. Either about the case or about what Lianping really wanted to know.

‘He’s just got another assignment from Beijing. From someone at the top. Busy as always. He’s not on the case we are talking about.’

‘He’s so busy – always restless.’

‘Restless, you can say that again. It’s infectious, now to my husband, too. Yu is becoming more and more like his partner. I cannot but be concerned.’

‘Your husband is a much more down-to-earth kind, Inspector Chen told me. He’s a very high opinion of Detective Yu. You don’t have to worry about it.’

After draining the tea in one gulp, Inspector Chen walked out of the café.

For an experienced, cautious old Party cadre like Qiang, it must have been a calculated move, Chen reflected, to take him down for a cup of tea at the café instead of in the office. It was because of a warning Qiang had to give, which the inspector had to take in earnest.

He had no idea, however, what he could do about it, and he decided not to worry too much for the moment.

There were a number of small, exotic cafés scattered along Julu Road. Half a block to the west he saw one with a large poster of Old Shanghai on the door; several more had period decorations on the wall. There was no customer sitting at a table outside.

He stepped in. No customer inside either. He took a seat with a view of the street.

A waitress put a cup of coffee on the table for him and withdrew into a back room. So he had the café for himself.

Sipping at a cup of coffee, he took out his cellphone to call some of his Big Buck associates.

It was another long shot. For a large city like Shanghai, the people he knew would not likely turn out to be the people Shanshan knew.