Fat Years - Chan Koonchung [93]
“Just now in the parking lot,” explained Zhang Dou, “we all wore masks. We can be quite certain that before he was unconscious, Professor He didn’t see our faces.”
“How can you be so stupid?” Lao Chen finally spoke.
“You have a witness,” said Fang Caodi, “that you were not in on it! When we grabbed him, you were still inside with your friend Jian Lin. We’ve thought of everything.”
“That’s not the most important point,” said Lao Chen.
They didn’t understand what he meant.
“The most important point,” he continued, “is that very few people know about He Dongsheng coming to this monthly film screening; maybe only Jian Lin and I do, and the secretary—at most three people besides He Dongsheng know about it. I’m sure to be investigated; I can’t get out of it, and I’m sure to be the prime suspect. Even if they assume I wasn’t one of the actual planners, when they ask me who I’ve seen lately, I will naturally give them your names and you will be investigated. Now that you’ve let me know what you’re up to, even before they torture me, I’ll be so scared I’ll probably squeal. This time we’re totally fucked.”
The three of them suddenly understood. They went quiet for a long time.
“Lao Chen.” Little Xi finally broke the silence. “I’m sorry we got you into this. It was my idea to grab a national leader and ask him what has really been going on. I was so angry and now I’ve got everyone in trouble.”
“I can’t let you take the responsibility,” said Fang Caodi. “This was all my rotten idea and I owe you all an apology.”
“Let’s find a place to stop the car,” said Zhang Dou, “put Professor He in the driver’s seat, get out, and go home like nothing ever happened. Professor He will wake up alone in less than two hours from now.”
“Will he be able to remember what happened before he was unconscious?” asked Lao Chen.
“When I grabbed him,” said Zhang Dou, “and put the chloroform rag over his mouth, he only struggled for six or seven seconds before he passed out.”
“When he wakes up,” Lao Chen said dejectedly, “he’ll have a headache and he’ll remember those six or seven seconds. Then he’ll definitely phone his secretary and activate the whole security system; they’ll check all the CCTV street-monitoring tapes, and probably call that fat traffic cop for corroboration. Then they’ll start investigating me … the result being that I’ll be scared shitless and give you all up. This time we’re definitely fucked.”
They all went quiet again; they were probably each thinking about various possible ways out of this dilemma.
“We could kill him …” said Fang Caodi after a while, and everybody gasped, but Fang went on. “I could never kill someone to keep him quiet. I’ll do everything myself and take all the blame. You all get out of the car. I’ll drive down south, contact the government, and ask for a big ransom to divert attention from all of you. You can all get out of the car here, okay? Zhang Dou, leave the chloroform with me.”
“How can we do that?” asked Little Xi.
“It’s just my one rotten life,” said Fang Caodi, “so why not? What do you say, Lao Chen?”
“Old Fang,” said Lao Chen, “this may be disappointing for you to hear, but even if you make it down south and kill yourself before they catch you, it still won’t solve the problem that only a few people knew of He Dongsheng’s movements this evening. They’ll definitely investigate me, and I’m one hundred percent certain that I’m a coward and scared of pain. As soon as they start on me, I’ll confess everything. Even if you make your sacrifice, it won’t prevent this inevitable outcome. We’ll still be fucked.” Lao Chen turned to Zhang Dou. “What is your safest estimation of how long we have before he wakes up?”
“The earliest he could wake up would be in ninety minutes, but I could give him some more chloroform,” answered Zhang Dou with a glance