Free Death of a Red Heroine by Qiu Xiaolong

the Good Example of Comrade Lei Feng.’”
    “So can I,” Yu said. “There’s another one. ‘Be a Good Soldier to Chairman Mao.’ I was humming the tune the other day, and my son was totally lost.”
    These songs had been very popular throughout the nation in the early sixties. Comrade Lei Feng was a model PLA soldier who served the people wholeheartedly, helped others in need, and never cared about his own interest. The Party lauded such mythical communist models to whom the people were expected to measure up, giving but not taking, contributing but not complaining, conforming but not making trouble. After the Cultural Revolution, and especially after the summer of 1989, however, few really believed in the orthodox propaganda.
    “So,” Chen said, “Comrade Lei Feng may be more needed than ever now.”
    “Why?”
    “Contemporary social polarization. Nowadays, a handful of upstarts live in luxury beyond ordinary people’s dreams, but so many workers are laid off—’waiting-for-retirement’ or ‘waiting-for-assignment.’ Many people have a hard time making ends meet. So propaganda advocating a selfless communist model is all the more necessary.”
    “That’s true.” Yu nodded. “Those high cadres and their children, the HCC, have everything and take it for granted.”
    “That’s why the propaganda ministry is trying very hard to come up with some contemporary role model. Guan was, at least, a pretty young woman. A considerable improvement—in the fashion-shop window of politics.”
    “So you don’t believe in the political shit either.”
    “Well, so much for political myths,” Chen said. “What do you think of the case?”
    “It’s anything but a political case.”
    “Yes, put politics aside.”
    “Guan was attacked that night on her way to a vacation. Forced to take off her clothes in a car, raped, and then strangled to death. Since she was not dating anyone at the time of her death—according to the department store—we can presume that the murderer was a stranger, probably the taxi driver.”
    “So what action do you suggest?”
    “Inquire at the taxi bureau. Collect the drivers’ receipts for that night, and check the records at the bureau. And of course, question those with suspicious pasts.”
    It was the same hypothesis, Guan as the victim of a taxi driver. Detective Yu had discussed it with Chen even before they had established the identity of the dead woman.
    At least it explained how the body came to be found in that distant canal.
    “Yes, that makes sense. Cover all the areas you think worth looking into.”
    “I’ll do my best,” Yu said, “but as I’ve mentioned, it won’t be easy, with so many cars running around the city nowadays.”
    “In the meantime, let’s do the regular checkup as well. I’ll go to the dorm building where Guan lived, and you’ll interview her colleagues in the department store.”
    “Fine,” Yu said. “It’s a special political case, I understand. But what about Commissar Zhang?”
    “Well, keep him informed about our work. Whenever he wants to say something, just listen to him—as respectfully as possible,” Chen said. “After all, Zhang’s a veteran cadre, influential in his way.”

Chapter 7
    D etective Yu woke up early. Still sleepy, he took a look at the radio clock on the nightstand. It was barely six, but he knew a full day awaited him. He got up, moving carefully so as not to wake up his wife, Peiqin, who curled up against the towel-covered pillow, a striped blanket tucked down to her ankles, her bare feet exposed on the sheet.
    As a rule, Yu got up at seven, jogged along Jinglin Road, read the morning newspaper, had his breakfast, sent his son Qinqin off to school, and left for the bureau. But that morning he decided to break this rule. He had to do some thinking. So he chose Renmin Road to do his jogging.
    His mind was on Guan Hongying’s case as he ran along at his customary pace, inhaling the fresh morning air. The