The First Excellence: Fa-Ling's Map (18 page)

However, since daytime sleep was the only alternative available to him at the moment, he decided he had better get on with it. He studied his reflection in the mirror one last time, admiring the tan-coloured summer jacket and the youthful white T-shirt and blue jeans. He thought he could pass for twenty-something, if only it weren’t for his eyes. They were a give-away. His mother said Yong-qi was an old soul. That must explain the geriatric appearance of his countenance. The eyes truly are windows to the
chi
.

Discouraged, he removed his clothes, carefully hanging them in the closet. His apartment was one of the better ones in Nanning, but even so it was not air-conditioned. Few of the units inhabited by locals could claim that particular luxury.

Yong-qi opened his bedroom window and turned on the standing fan at the foot of his bed. He retrieved a pair of boxer shorts that doubled as pyjama bottoms from under his pillow and pulled them on, tightening the string around his narrow waist. Then he crawled into bed, exhausted, praying sleep would quickly relieve him of his regret over letting his attraction for Fa-ling become so obvious.

He had just drifted off when the
chirruping
sound of a telephone brought him back to reality. The ring was unfamiliar to him, as it did not belong to one of his own phones.

He leapt up, sat on the edge of his bed, and scanned the room to find the source of the sound.

His eyes fell at last on the bag in the middle of the floor, the one belonging to the late ‘Chen Sui Ming’.

Fa-ling didn’t know what to do with herself for the rest of the morning. The babies were expected to arrive after 3:00 p.m. They would be brought to their new parents by bus — a six hour trip through rough country from their village orphanage to the metropolis of Nanning with its population of more than 11 million.

Fa-ling would meet the group in the lobby at 2:30. From there they would be taken to the government office where the transfer of the babies to their adopting parents would occur.

Until that time she was on her own. She considered placing another call to Detective Wang. He was obviously interested in her. It would be pleasant to spend some time with him.

On the other hand, she hadn’t slept much during the previous night, and he hadn’t slept at all, so it might be a waste of time trying to hook up with him. Besides, she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of asking a strange man for a date. If Detective Wang was interested in her, he should have found a way to make his intentions clear.

Fa-ling remembered the way his face had burned bright red with embarrassment when he had looked up to find her standing so close in the bathroom. She wanted to say something to put him at ease, but nothing came to mind so she left the room. After that the handsome detective kept his eyes on the door, as if he couldn’t wait to finish with her and get the hell out of there.

By now, she thought, Wang would be asleep, resting up for another night shift ahead. Suddenly jet lag caught up with her and she was overcome with fatigue. She lay down on the unmade bed and kicked off her sandals. In no time, she was sound asleep.

**

Ting-lo paced anxiously around the room, chewing on a painted nail until the deep red colour was chipped and ugly.

“
What now?” she said.

“
Now nothing,” Adrian answered. “Now we go ahead with the process as planned. There is nothing else we can do. If we talk to the police, we’ll be involved in this up to our eyeballs. We may be stuck here for months. We may even screw up our chances of finalising the adoption.”

“
My brother is dead,” she said. “He was my only relative. I have no family anymore.”

“
You have a family. You have me, and after today, you will have a daughter. Anna is counting on us to be good parents. Can we really take the chance she might be sent back to the orphanage? What if Anna never finds a home of her own?”

Ting-lo sat beside him, her body rigid.

“
Do you think he did it?” she said.

“
I don’t know. Was he capable of it?”

“
The Tang I knew was not capable of such an act. When we were growing up, I was the serious one. He was full of fun, hated to study and loved to play. We called him Tang for short. His proper name was Ting-lang. When our mother wanted us to come inside for dinner, she would call out ‘Ting-Tang’, joining our names as one. That was our family joke. It was appropriate because we were inseparable. Our parents doted on him. He was their only son, after all.”

“
He seemed to be pretty serious last night,” Adrian said. “I don’t think he smiled once, even when he first saw you.”

“
My brother has changed. This cult, this Falun Gong has changed him. The things he said, I wish you could have understood him. He was like a crazy person, raving on about torture and murder.”

“
There have been a lot of reported cases of abuse against Falun Gong members,” Adrian said. “Tang may have been telling the truth. After all, he believes his wife was killed. He has not had word of her for months. That would be enough to drive any man out of his mind. If anything ever happened to you….”

“
Now he’s gone,” she said. “All of our plans, all of our hopes, gone just like that. I’d hoped to bring Tang into our home and help him to make a new start in Canada. He would’ve loved the wide open countryside up north. Now, it’s all for nothing.”

Adrian put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. He was frustrated, unable to give her any real comfort and unable even to allow her to spend her grief fully. After all, in a few short hours they would be expected to board the bus and meet Anna for the first time. It was supposed to be a time for joy. Puffy eyes that were red from crying would not look good under the circumstances. Somehow, he would have to help Ting-lo pull herself together.

If they were doing something, anything other than just sitting in this room, wallowing in thoughts of what might have been… They needed to take action, to regain a measure of control over the situation.

“
I’ve got an idea,” Adrian said. “Fa-ling said she would be staying in her room for the morning. Why don’t we pay a visit to the sixth floor and see if she can tell us anything about what happened to Tang.”

“
How do we bring the subject up,” she said, “without letting on we are related to him?”

“
We just ask her outright whether she knows anything. People get curious about situations like this. It’s human nature. After all, the police said it was a suicide. Paula Kader said it was murder. We tell Fa-ling we’re upset by the whole thing, and ask her what she knows about it.”

“
Won’t she suspect there is more to our interest?”

“
She might, but she seems like she knows how to keep her mouth shut. It’s worth a try, if we can get some closure on what happened rather than just sitting here.”

**

Fa-ling was enjoying a dreamless sleep when the knock on the door woke her. Annoyed, she realised she had forgotten to place the
Do Not Disturb
sign on the door for housekeeping.

She was surprised to see Ting-lo and Adrian Harlan through the peephole.

“
Come in,” she said, opening the door widely. “Are you feeling any better, Ting-lo?”

“
Not really. We came to ask you whether you have any Advil. They don’t seem to have our brand in the hotel store.”

“
No,” Fa-ling said, “but I do have some extra strength Tylenol. Will that work?” She studied Ting-lo’s face, which was pasty and drawn despite a layer of makeup.

“
It should help, thanks.”

“
You can keep the package.”

“
If you don’t mind, I’ll take some now.” Ting-lo reached for a paper cup from beside the water dispenser and filled it with steaming water.

“
Can I give you a bottle of cold water, or some juice?”

“
No, thank you. I’m used to hot water.” Ting-lo swallowed two of the pills. It wasn’t a lie. Her head had been throbbing ever since she’d heard the news Tang was dead. “May I sit for a moment?” she said.

“
Of course.” Fa-ling hurried to pull out a chair for her, perching herself on the edge of one of the twin beds. Adrian sat on the other.

“
What brings you on our little excursion?” Adrian said. “Do you have relatives in China?”

“
No. My family are in Toronto. I have no one here. I was born in Gui. I wanted to see my birthplace.”

“
The country is changing so quickly,” Ting-lo said. “How will you even find the right place?”

“
My mother gave me a map. I was planning to take a taxi today, if I could find a driver who speaks English. I wanted to start by seeing the Li River. It’s not on our group agenda, so I wanted to fit it in today. It’s too late now, though. I don’t want to miss the baby ceremony.”

“
I wanted to ask you about what happened last night,” Adrian said. “According to Paula, there were sounds of an argument coming from room 607.”

Fa-ling studied her hands before answering. Adrian’s question seemed out or sync with the previous conversation. She wondered whether curiosity had been the real reason for their visit.

“
I was asleep,” she said. “I didn’t hear anything. I was wearing my IPod.”

“
The police questioned you,” he persisted. “They told you it was a suicide.”

“
That’s right. As I understand it, the man was a Falun Gong martyr. He set himself on fire and jumped out of the window.” Fa-ling winced at her own words. Her most basic instinct, planted firmly during her early years of struggle, had been to preserve life at any cost. She could only imagine what kind of suffering would cause a human being to willingly end his or her own life.

“
Paula seemed certain of what happened,” Ting-lo said. “She said she heard an argument. It must have been loud for her to call the police.”

“
The only thing I heard,” Fa-ling said, “was some quiet Chinese music and a man’s voice repeating some words. That went on for awhile. I needed sleep, so I put on my headphones and couldn’t hear anything but my music after that.”

It was obvious Fa-ling was not open to speculation about how Tang had met his end. Adrian was quick to change the subject, sensing Ting-lo might persist until the topic became even more uncomfortable.

“
When will you fit in the Li River trip?” he asked.

“
Tomorrow. Cynthia told me all of the parents will be spending the day in government offices, and I will not be allowed to tag along. I plan to line up a driver today so I can get on the road first thing tomorrow.”

“
Be careful,” Ting-lo warned. “Make sure Cynthia knows who you are travelling with.”

“
I will.”

“
And thank you for the Tylenol. My head feels better already.” Ting-lo stood. “I should get some rest before this afternoon.”

Fa-ling closed the door behind the Harlans, and leaned her head against it. Ting-lo’s headache, the questions, the weird vibes coming from Adrian — Fa-ling did not believe for a moment idle curiosity had prompted their inquiries about the death in room 607.

What, she wondered, were Ting-lo and Adrian up to?

“
Hello,” Yong-qi said into the tiny cell phone.

“
Hello,” a woman’s voice responded. “May I speak to Wu Tang?”

Yong-qi lied without missing a beat.

“
This is Wu Tang,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

“
I am calling about your wife,” the woman said. “She has been injured. She would like to see you.”

“
May I speak with her?”

“
Unfortunately, no. Gui-Jing is weak. She was already near death when she was brought from the prison two weeks ago. I am sorry to tell you, she may not live through another day.” Shopei did not want to waste words. Wu Tang would have to hurry to the little house in Shanghai if he was going to see Gui-Jing again.

So,
Wang thought,
our victim’s name was Wu Tang. His wife was in prison.
From what he already knew of Wu Tang’s manner of death, he had an inkling of what his wife was arrested for. She had probably been charged with involvement in the outlawed Falun Gong religious movement.

“
Who am I speaking to?” he said.

“
My name is not important,” Shopei said. “I am here with Gui-Jing now. We will try to keep her alive till you get here.”

“
How do I know this isn’t a trick? Maybe you plan to arrest me as soon as I arrive?”

“
I won’t blame you if you choose not to come. Frankly, Gui-Jing may not survive until you arrive, anyway.”

“
I will come,” Wang said. “Where will I find you?”

“
I cannot give you this location over the phone.” Shopei knew ‘Big Mama’, as the government’s so-called Golden Shield censorship program had been nick-named, could easily extend its intrusive behaviour to include cell phone monitoring as well as Internet filtering. Too late she had realised it was through Dahui’s email communication that the Ministry of Security had learned about Randy’s arrival in China. Dahui’s naïveté had resulted in his own death and the murder of their parents. Shopei would not make the same mistake.

“
How will I find you?” Wang asked.

“
I will meet you near the American Consulate building in Shanghai. How soon can you be there?”