The chief inspector was a small, dapper man, perfectly dressed in a pinstriped suit, matched with a blue and yellow striped tie set exactly in the centre of the two prongs of his shirt collar. He continued to write in the book in front of him as Danilov looked for a seat.
There was one in the corner. A simple high-backed bentwood chair. Danilov took it and placed it in front of the desk, facing the chief.
The man finished what he was doing by adding his signature with a flourish, capping the fountain pen and placing it in the tray in front of him.
Danilov could only admire the neatness of the chief inspector’s desk. It required discipline to keep it so tidy. A physical manifestation of the man’s mind. It was ordered and precise, with everything in its place and a place for everything.
‘Now, Danilov, I believe you are handling Inspector Sheehan’s case?’
‘The child murder? Yes, I am, sir.’
‘Sorry you’ve been lumbered with it. With the emergency, we’re losing a lot of men to the Volunteers. Still have murders, though.’
Chief Inspector Rock’s London accent shone though his speech. He had been seconded to the Shanghai Municipal Police with a brief to educate the squad in the latest methods of detecting crime, and to reorganise them to be more efficient. Danilov thought he had made some progress on both fronts but still had a long way to go.
‘Without crime we would be out of a job, sir.’
‘I just wish there wasn’t so much of it. Faced a grilling from the Municipal Council last night on all these anti-Japanese demonstrations and the boycott of Japanese goods. As if that were one of my problems too.’
‘The situation is not looking good, sir. After the Mukden incident and the annexation of Chinese territory, there’s a lot of anti-Japanese feeling in the air.’
‘Nothing to do with us, Danilov. We solve crime and that’s the end of it, despite what the council think.’
‘We’re being dragged in, sir. Another Japanese warship arrived in the harbour this morning. And I saw an organised mob of students outside a tea shop when I left the morgue. They were obviously intimidating the merchant, forcing him to get rid of all his Japanese goods.’
‘But what can we do? When we ask, they deny everything. And to be honest, many of my Chinese detectives sympathise with the students. If I were to order them to protect the merchants, I’m not sure they would obey.’
‘A difficult situation, sir.’
‘It is, Danilov.’ Chief Inspector Rock brushed some imaginary fluff from the sleeve of his jacket. ‘The detective force mustn’t be dragged into political matters. Let’s leave such dirt to C3 and Commander Davies. Our job is to combat crime. Now, tell me about this murder.’
Danilov kept his mouth shut. Politics would intrude into their lives whether they liked it or not. Had the events in Russia taught people nothing? The image of the young boy lying on the cold mortuary table forced its way into his mind, the face slashed in clean, clear strokes.
‘The body found in Hong Kew is that of an unknown Chinese boy, aged approximately thirteen years old.’
‘A gang killing?’
‘I don’t think so, sir. From the condition of his hands and body, Dr Fang believes the boy was a scholar, somebody who had never worked in his life.’
‘Puts a different complexion on it. No missing person reports?’
Danilov shook his head. ‘Not yet. Strachan’s going through them as we speak. One more thing: the right ear was missing.’
‘Why would anybody take the boy’s ear?’
‘That’s what I am endeavouring to discover, sir.’
The chief inspector shook his head. ‘Shanghai never ceases to amaze me.’
‘As a city, it does have the capacity to surprise and astound even the most jaded detective’s palate.’
Chief Inspector Rock coughed once and looked down at his blotter, apparently finding a speck of dirt lying on its pristine whiteness. ‘Er, nothing… erm… sexual, was there?’ he muttered to the speck of dirt.
‘Dr Fang doesn’t think so, sir. There’s no evidence the boy was raped or sexually molested in any way. No tears around the anus or bruising in the genital area.’
Rock looked up. ‘I do wish you weren’t so… blunt about these matters, Danilov.’
The inspector continued. ‘But the face had been slashed deeply seven times.’
‘Why?’
‘I am endeavouring to discover that too, Chief Inspector.’
‘What’s your hypothesis for the moment?’
‘It’s too early in the investigation to have any hypothesis, sir.’
The chief inspector looked past Danilov’s head at the large clock on the far wall. The second hand was sweeping up to the twelve. ‘Well, solve it quickly and solve it quietly. I don’t want anybody stirring up trouble. The murder of children is something people get worked up about. The last thing we need at the moment is for the press or the Municipal Council to find out.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Miss Cavendish,’ he bellowed through the thin wall. ‘Bring in the Criminal Records meeting and make me a cup of green tea.’
There was no answer from outside.
‘Solve it, Danilov.’
‘Yes, sir.’