Superintendent Yin speaks and Peter Dunne translates: ‘Superintendent Yin will give you an update of the results of the inquiry to date.’
The policeman refers to the pages in the file as he talks, and it looks to me as if he’s reading verbatim what is written there. He pauses and dips his head, signalling to Peter Dunne that he should interpret for us.
‘After visa and passport-control checks showed that Lorelei had not left the country, the police visited her apartment and, as you know, found it empty. The door was secure and there was no damage. There was no passport found. Interviews with her friends in Chengdu did not provide any explanation for her disappearance. There has been no response from her mobile phone and attempts to trace that have not yet…’ Peter Dunne hesitates, as if he’s working out a better way of explaining what’s just been said ‘… yielded results.’
‘What about the English school?’ I say. ‘Five Star. Why didn’t they report her missing, if she suddenly wasn’t turning up for work?’
Peter Dunne relays the question. There’s a long reply from Superintendent Yin. Then Peter Dunne says something else, gesturing to Tom and me. The language is full of vowels, with sh-shing and ch-ching consonants, the pitch swooping up and down. The two men go back and forth and I try to work out the meaning from their body language. Superintendent Yin looks solemn, a little blank, even, as if he is the reluctant partner in the conversation. Peter Dunne is leaning forward, exerting pressure, perhaps. At last he sits back, places his palms together on the table. ‘So,’ he says, then turns to look our way, ‘here’s the thing…’ That phrase sounds odd coming from him, one of those picked up from American TV that has now gone global. We need to talk. Back in the day.
‘… Five Star English is not actually a registered school or an official agency.’
‘What?’ Tom says.
‘It’s a shell, a front for making money by getting visas for international workers in return for a fee,’ Peter Dunne says.
Tom groans. ‘So they don’t exist, Five Star?’
‘No.’
‘And Lori?’ I say. ‘Does that mean she was working illegally?’
He hesitates, rubs his head with one finger. ‘Freelance work is not permitted in China. International workers are expected to be employed – if they lose their job the right to remain, to temporary residency, also goes. The type of work Lori was doing, taking on clients herself, making arrangements directly with them, it’s all part of the black economy.’
