AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As Hulan listened, she couldn’t help but wonder about President Jiang’s future. On the street, people sometimes referred to him as “Flowerpot,” because he had become as common as a flowerpot at ribbon cuttings and other photo opportunities. He also had a penchant for singing American movie tunes and reciting passages from the Gettysburg Address to entertain visiting dignitaries. Were these the actions of a “paramount leader”? Did he qualify as the “first among equals”? Would there be a power struggle during this fall’s Fifteenth Communist Party Congress or would it take a year or two for his detractors to get organized? Jiang was the commander in chief of the world’s largest army, but did he have the support of the generals? No one knew the answers yet, but like a Chinese opera there were still many acts to come.
Hulan was still not quite sure why she had come there. She supposed it was seeing Deng’s daughter tearfully kissing her father on television the day before. For all of his political accomplishments—and failures—Deng must have been a good father. He must have loved his children very much to elicit such a public show of emotion from them. After a lifetime of wishing and trying, Hulan had been unable to forge a similar bond. So she stood in the Great Hall of the People mourning less for Deng than for the absence of love from her own father.
David would have liked to stay in Beijing, but he had a lot of unfinished business in Los Angeles. Before he left, he and Hulan had one last dinner with Zai, who’d just been appointed vice minister. Despite his new title, he looked much the same. His jacket was worn and his shirt was frayed at the collar and cuffs. He spoke haltingly about Hulan’s father. He knew his friend’s history of corruption but had seen no reason to be suspicious until their trip to Tianjin. After Liu assigned his daughter to the Watson case, Zai concluded that his friend had to be involved. “After Cao Hua’s death, my main concern was for your safety,” Zai told Hulan. “I wanted you out of the country. I hoped you wouldn’t return.”
Hulan began to mist up, and they decided to drop the subject, but later in the evening when Zai excused himself to go to the men’s room, David followed. “Hulan’s father talked about people high up who ordered him to reopen the case. They—whoever they are—must have known about him. Who told them? Was it you? Was it your opportunity to get revenge on Liu?”
Zai looked very tired. “He was my oldest friend. Where he was concerned, I followed a one-eye-open, one-eye-closed policy almost my entire life. Even after everything that had happened in the past, I would have done nothing to harm him, until I believed that Hulan was in danger. That I could not stand.”
“Then how did they know?” David asked. Zai just shook his head.
On March first, sixteen days after the events at the bear farm, David—with his arm in a sling—was back at Beijing airport in a private waiting room. Vice Minister Zai, as yet unaccustomed to dealing with the media, trudged through a speech for the benefit of the local press. His words were translated into English for a few stringers by a young woman from the Language Institute of Beijing. David scanned the faces of Zai, Guang Mingyun, and others from the Ministry of Public Security who had turned out for this official farewell. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Beth Madsen walk by the window that separated this room from the rest of the terminal. She was either leaving Beijing or coming in on another of her business trips. If she was departing, then they’d probably be on the same flight. At his side, holding his hand, was Hulan. They had said their most intimate farewells at her home, knowing that at the airport their behavior would be circumscribed by formalities.
Vice Minister Zai ended his remarks. The assembled crowd applauded. Then he stepped forward and presented David with a plaque showing the Great Hall of the People with gold characters etched on each side. The two men shook hands. Then it was Guang Mingyun’s turn. “I am grateful for what you did, even though the outcome has reflected badly on my son’s memory.” He handed David a package wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with string. “This is just a small token. Please do not embarrass me by opening it now.” They, too, shook hands, then Guang Mingyun faded into the crowd.
Zai cleared his throat and said a few last words in Chinese. The others nodded and drifted away so that only Zai, David, and Hulan remained. “Again, we are thankful for your help,” the older man said. “China is a good country, but sometimes we make mistakes.”
“As do we,” David acceded.
“Yes, none of us can avoid human nature. In these events neither China nor America was completely clean or completely dirty. People died who did not have to. I think particularly of Investigator Sun and Special Agent Gardner. We should honor their memories by remembering our ultimate success. I hope we can work together in the future to stop corruption and other types of crime. I have much still to do here, and I’m afraid you will be going home to many hard tasks. But I believe we have made a good start.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you.” Zai looked around. “I will keep the others away.” With that, Zai left the waiting room and stood outside the door, leaving David and Hulan alone.
“This won’t be for long,” he said.
“I know.”
“You’ll come soon.”
“I will.”
“You promise.”
“Absolutely.”
“If you don’t, I’ll be back for you.”
She smiled. “I’m counting on that.”
When it was time to board, David had a hard time letting her go. As he walked down the jetway, he paused and turned to look at her one last time. She was standing—dry-eyed—by herself. Nearby, an old woman swept the floor. A few young men in army uniforms rushed by eager to begin their furloughs. A handful of businessmen scuttled past, talking on cellular phones. David waved to Hulan and turned away.
After takeoff, David opened the packa
ge Guang Mingyun had given him. David didn’t know what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t a computer disk. He held it thoughtfully for a couple of minutes, balancing it in his hand. Once the pilot turned off the seat-belt sign, David got up and walked to where Beth Madsen was working on her laptop. The seat next to her was vacant.
“May I?” he asked.
“Sure.” After he sat down, she nodded at his cast. “You’re more or less in one piece, I’m happy to see. Can I ask what happened?”
After David told her and thanked her for her assistance, she said, “I’ve never been so scared in my life, and I didn’t do anything.”
“Your help meant a lot to us. I don’t know what we would have done…”
“It’s over now. That’s the main thing.” Then, seeing the look on his face, she asked, “Or is it?”
“That’s why I came over here. I have another favor to ask of you.”
