At
the
bottom
there
was a short
stretch
of
airless
passageway
leading
to a
wooden
door reinforced
with
heavy iron cross members. Suddenly the air
became unnaturally
hot.
Scholefield
stopped but the officer forced him forward again until he
was
almost touching the door.
Then
he drew. a
whistle from his
pocket
and
blew a
piercing blast.
The door,
opened soundlessly
from
inside, flew back suddenly
on
its binges.
Scholefield
saw
a final f
l
ight of
half a dozen
steps
leading
steeply down
through a narrow
opening. The officer and the
guards propelled him through
it
and
he stumbled
forward
and halted, staring.
The confined space was lit by an orange glow from the
coal
brazier in one corner. The heat from
this and
the glowing
red
hot chains
suspended
above it
was intense. A hinged and
jointed
torture bench with
leather
straps for wrists and
ankles stood along one
wall and
on a table beside it were laid out metal
thumbscrews,
mallets,
bamboo splinters, jugs
of water
and
sodden tow
e
ls that steamed slowly in
the heat.
As
S
holef
i
eld’s eyes adjusted to the glare of
the fire
he noticed for the
first time
a hunched
figure
manacled by the
wrists
into a
heavy
wooden chair in one corner. The man’s head
was
sunk on his chest
and his features
were indistinguishable in the
gloom.
‘The
bench
was used to start with.
It
was
a toss-up whether the hips or
the
vertebrae of the spine
splintered
before other bones in the body.’ The officer spoke quietly in
Chinese,
his voice cold
and
matter-of-fact.
Scholefield
dragged
his eyes away from the
torture instruments
to look at him. He was standing by the
fire, stirring
the coals idly
with a pair
of
iron
tongs. His lips were
drawn
back from his teeth in a
sneering
smile. ‘The
infamous
water
torture
you are no doubt
familiar with,
Mr.
Scholefield
.’ He
pointed
to the towels
and
the
jugs.
‘The t
o
wels were
pressed over
the prisoner’s f
a
ce
and
the water poured on little by little. He
had three
choices:
suffocate, drown—or
talk.’ He paused
and lifted a
few
links
of
red
hot chain from
the
hooks
above
the brazier. ‘What do you think the prisoner did, Mr.
Scholefield
?’
The officer’s face shimmered with perspiration. In
the flickering light from the
fire
his features seemed
constantly
to liquefy
and merge, then
reform
again.
‘In the People’s Republic of China, we have found
there are two basic types
of
human reaction under
interrogation—those of the toothpaste
tube and the
water faucet.’ A short laugh escaped his lips. ‘The “Faucet” needs only to be twisted sharply at the beginning for everything to
gush forth.
But the “Tube” must be squeezed
frequently
to get at what’s
inside. And
every
time
you
squeeze, a little
more of
what
you want comes out.’ He gazed down
reflectively
at the red hot
chains
for a moment before replacing them carefully on their
hook.
Then he
turned and signalled
to one of
the guards standing
quietly by the
foot
of the narrow flight of steps. ‘You will no doubt be
interested
to know Mr. Scho
lef
ield
that the
man we have brought you to see turned out to b
e
a Water
Faucet.’
The guard holding
the
torch switched it on
and
swung the
beam
into, the corner. It
illuminated
the
b
ent head
and shoulders
of the
man manacled to the chair
by his
wrists.
As Scholefield
watched,
the other
guard
stepped forward
and
grabbed
him
by
his
dose-cropped hair. The head was jerked back
and
Scholefield found himself
staring
into
the round, pock-marked
face of
the man
he knew as Yang.
WASHINGTON, Tuesday—U.S. News and World
Report said Monday that U.S.
Intelligence
believes Chairman Mao
Tse-tung of China
is
fading
fast—
but groups contending for power
are determined
to avoid civil
war.
Associated
Press, 2
1
July
1976
24
The Warszawa was flagged down twice at
the road blocks set up along the northern boundary
of the Square of Heavenly Peace. But
Tan
Sui-ling held her
pass
out at the window
and
when
the
soldiers
and
Public
Security Bureau cadres manning the barricades saw
the
tiny
photograph of
Wang Tung-hsing in
the bottom left
hand
corner they
hurriedly waved the car
through.
Before
it
had
halted at the rear of
-the
long
column
of shiny
black official
Hung C
hi
limousines parked
in front of the Great Hall of the People,
Tan Sui-ling had
jumped out
and was
running up the steps towards
the vast twelve-columned entrance
to the
megalith.
She
stopped
however when
she caught
sight of the rotund figure of the man whose face decorated her pass, hurrying down towards his car.
She waited until
he
had reached the
lower tier of the steps just above her before
calling
his name.
‘Comrade Wang!’
He
halted and waited impatiently
for her to approach. The
drivers
and guards
standing beside the cars
stiffened
rigidly to attention as one man
when they
saw
him. She ran
across
the
steps and
put
a hand breathlessly
on
his arm.
‘Has
the
Standing Committee meeting finished so soon?’
‘It has been adjourned
-
there is an
emergency!’
He spoke in a
fierce whisper and nod
de
d
towards his
bulky
briefcase. ‘Reports of natural phenomena
coming
in
from all
over the
north east are
disturbing.
Well levels have
fallen
up to
two feet
on
twenty
different
communes
in Hopei alone in the past hour. Other reports are
still
coming in from the
peasants’
observation and prediction groups. I’m on my way to see the Chairman urgently.’ His
beetle
brows
knitted in a grimace
of
exasperation.
‘Nobody
dares risk
panicking a
hundred million
people
with emergency measures
without his authority.’
He turned as if to
continue
his rapid
descent
of the steps, but
she caught his arm
again
and looked directly into
his face ‘He called me personally to his
bedside
at three
a.
m
.
this morning for a verbal
report
on the Soviet smear
campaign
in London. He
looked
very il
l
’
Wang Tung-hsing
shook his head.
‘He
sleeps
rarely, if at all. There is great deterioration. Look!’ He opened his briefcase
and she caught a glimpse
of the dark outline of a
revolver
on top of the
white papers.
‘His paranoia is reaching a crisis.
He
demanded that
I bring him a gun for
his personal
use tonight—I, who have guarded him faithfully for forty-two years. He distrusts even his own shadow
now.’
She turned and moved down the steps alongside him, smiling sympathetically. ‘He asked me to report
to him
again tonight. I
was coming to clear the visit with you. Would I
be intruding if I were to accompany
you
now?’
‘Of course not, Comrade Tan. Your visits, I know, are among the few things that have pleased him recently.’ He smiled back at her revealing his uneven teeth and put his right hand solicitously under her elbow. She leaned very slightly against him as she
allowed
him to guide
her down the
steps and into his car.
Inside
the
curtained, air-conditioned Hung Chi
he removed
his
cap and used it to mop away the perspiration that
was
streaming down his heavy-jowled face.
Tan
S
ui
-
lin
g unfastened
the top two
or three
buttons
of her
tunic and fanned herself with one hand, turning
at
the same time
so
that
he
could
see she wore no blouse beneath. ‘If only this terrible
storm
would break. I am suffocating.’
As the car shot away
across
the
square
towards the Tien An
Men
he
leaned
towards
her and let
one
hand
rest on her thigh for a moment.
‘The
storm
and
the
beat are both unnatural. And
there are other bad omens, not
just the wells—a plague
of rats has been
reported in one suburb
of
Tangshan.’
He
shook his head. ‘Pray
the storm doesn’t break, but
passes
over us here in
Peking!’
The
driver
sent the
Hung-Chi careering across
the broad expanse of the Boulevard of Eternal
Peace
at more than sixty miles an hour
and
screeched to a’ halt at the New Gate entrance to the walled compound of Chung
Nan Hai.
Wang wound his window down
and started
to show a
plastic
covered
pass.
But
when
the young sentry
saw
his commander’s face he waved the car on without further
checking.
Wang
immediately
stopped the car
and leaped
out, yelling at the
top
of his voice.
‘Check all
passes,
you
vile turtle’s egg!
L
eave nobody out. Search every single
car—there
can be no
exceptions! The life
of China’s greatest hero in all
history is
in your careless hands!’
The other
guards
grouped beside the gate shrank back
under the lash
of his
tongue. ‘What kind
of fighter would I be,’ the youth protested, ‘if
I
could not
recognise the
man who
personally
guarded Chairman Mao in the
caves
of
Yenan?’
Wang’s voice sank to a
menacing
g
ro
wl.
D
on’t give me my
life
biography, y
o
u
filthy
toad! Give me a security check. Quickly.’
The soldier made
a
frantic
body search of Wang where
h
e stood while his
comrades hurriedly
went over
the
car,
and the
driver.
Then they checked Tan S
u
i-ling’s pass and
searched her gingerly for
weapons.
As the
car
roared away,
brushing beneath the hanging willows that
marked
the
margins of the palace
lakes,
the soldier
Wang
had abused drew a
deep
breath of re
l
ie
f
He
looked
around
red-f
a
ced
at his fellows.
‘The
“Devil’s Clutch”
is living
up
to
his
name
tonight.’
Inside the
car
Wang
sank
back into the
cushions
of
his seat and
mopped his brow
again.
He stared -out over the dead,
viscous waters
of the lakes
searching the ornamental terraces
and
pavilions beyond with
screwed up eyes. ‘Perhaps
his paranoia is contagious.’
He turned
and smiled
another
broken-toothed
smile at
Tan Sui-
l
ing. ‘I, too, think
I see
shadows
moving on every balustrade.’
The car skidded
to a
halt
outside a
single-storied pavilion with
a golden-tiled roof. It
was
one of a group of
dwellings built originally
to house an emperor’s mandarins which since
1949 had
served as the
official
living
quarters
of the
Party
Politburo. Wang
clambered
out
with
his bulky briefcase
and
hurried up the steps past four more guards to the front door. Inside, his face darkened
when he saw only one soldier standing outside the study. ‘Where are your three comrades?’ he thundered.
The guard flew to attention and shouldered his rifle. ‘Chairman Mao Tse-tung is not here, Commander Wang!’
‘Not here?’ The veins on his temple bulged in his fury. ‘Where is he?’
‘He
descended
to
his
retreat in
the tunnels—an hour ago.
He
ordered
the deputy commander
and a detachment
of
men
to move him. They
are down there with him
now.’
Wang
swung
on his heel
and hurried
along
the
corridor to
the
lift. He pressed
the
call button
and
when the door opened he
stepped
inside, followed by
Tan Sui-
l
ing.
The doors closed
noiselessly
and
the lift descended
for a ha
l
f
a minute. When they opened again Wang
dashed
out into the brightly-lit concrete
tunnel that was
broad
enough to
allow the passage of a jeep. He muttered
angrily
over his shoulder as he
lumbered
along at a
half
trot. ‘Why
must
he
choose
tonight of all
nights
to
bury
himself a hundred
feet
under Peking?
And
without
consulting
me!’