Chapter 6: Arrest Operation

Chapter 6: Arrest Operation

At that moment, Cheng Qianfan caught sight of He Guan rushing frantically toward the entrance. He came to an abrupt stop, straightened his uniform and cap, then strode in with great dignity. Yet his eyes darted everywhere, creating the strange impression of someone who appeared perfectly serious while simultaneously looking sneaky.

“Relax, Goldie went off to a meeting,” Cheng Qianfan said.

Hearing this, He Guan let out a long sigh of relief. He removed his cap and spun it on a finger, then sidled up to Cheng Qianfan with a sly grin.

“Brother Fan, lend me some money.” He jerked his chin toward the outside. “I still haven’t paid the fare.”

“Aren’t you ashamed?” Cheng Qianfan had only just taken out his wallet when He Guan snatched it away, pulled out one yuan in legal tender, and swaggered off to pay the rickshaw fare.

Outside the Central Police Station, on the roadside, the rickshaw puller Liao San was waiting nervously.

What rotten luck. First thing in the morning he had picked up a police officer who claimed he had no money to pay the fare. Liao San cursed inwardly while forcing a smile and saying it was fine.

The police officer had said he would go inside and get the money. Liao San had planned to run off with his rickshaw, but after being threatened that his rickshaw would be smashed if he dared leave, he was too frightened to move and could only wait.

Standing by a second-floor window, Cheng Qianfan watched He Guan toss the fare onto the seat. The puller repeatedly waved his hands. He Guan looked displeased and seemed to threaten him again. The puller immediately dragged his rickshaw away as though fleeing for his life.

“You took one yuan from me,” Cheng Qianfan said when He Guan returned.

“I know, I know. I’ll pay you back sooner or later. Why are you keeping such close accounts?” He Guan replied irritably.

Cheng Qianfan smiled.

This fellow cared deeply about appearances. Since Cheng Qianfan understood what was really going on, there was naturally no need to say more.

From He Guan’s residence to the Central Police Station, fifty cents was more than enough for the fare. Yet He Guan had thrown down an entire yuan.

Therefore, Cheng Qianfan deduced that the puller had not been saying the money was insufficient. Rather, he had probably been trying to return the change, only to be “driven away” by He Guan under the pretext that the man had insulted Master He by trying to give him change.

That was He Guan.

Even when doing a good deed, he wore the face of a villain.

To any uninformed bystander, He Guan’s behaviour would have looked exactly like a police officer bullying a poor rickshaw puller.

And that perfectly matched the bad reputation of this arrogant second-generation policeman.

Had Cheng Qianfan not carefully calculated the fare based on the distance between He Guan’s home and the police station, he too would have misunderstood this new friend.

Cheng Qianfan enjoyed contemplating principles through such small incidents:

What one sees is not necessarily the truth!

About half an hour later, not only had Sergeant Jin Kemu and Deputy Sergeant Ma Yishou returned, but the other sergeants and deputy sergeants had also arrived with their men.

No one was joking around anymore.

Everyone understood that a major operation was about to begin.

“Master, a mission?” Cheng Qianfan quietly asked Ma Yishou.

“An arrest operation,” Ma Yishou replied sourly.

At this stage of his life, he was simply coasting along. The deputy sergeant’s salary was good, and he also received a substantial monthly bonus from the Green Gang.

The only thing that interested him was making money.

He had absolutely no enthusiasm for missions.

Especially dangerous large-scale operations like this one, which he avoided whenever possible.

Cheng Qianfan asked no further questions.

He did not want to arouse suspicion or alert the man.

Although Ma Yishou had a loose tongue, when it came to missions and operations, he was still capable of keeping his mouth shut.

Several minutes later, Cheng Qianfan quietly became alert when he saw Xi Neng, chief of the Political Department Investigation Squad, appear accompanied by Investigation Squad interpreter Xiu Gongshen and Central Police Station Chief Inspector Qin Detai.

Operations involving the Political Department were almost always related to tracking down and arresting political offenders.

The French Concession was a mixed bag of every sort of person imaginable. Broadly speaking, the Political Department’s targets included Communists, Nationalist agents, Japanese, and even Soviets.

In reality, however, the department’s primary targets had always been Communist activists.

Moreover, this time it was Xi Neng himself, the powerful French chief of the Investigation Squad, personally directing the operation.

Given such a display of force, Cheng Qianfan could hardly avoid becoming wary.

The appearance together of Xi Neng, chief of the Investigation Squad, interpreter Xiu Gongshen, and Qin Detai, Chief Inspector of the Central Police Station, caused a small commotion among those present.

The officers hurriedly adjusted their uniforms:

Discipline buttons were fastened properly.

Crooked caps were straightened at once.

“My cap, where’s my cap?” He Guan whispered.

He could not find it.

Cheng Qianfan grinned and gestured with his chin.

Following the direction indicated, He Guan found his cap in a corner beside a table. Not even bothering to dust it off, he hurriedly put it on.

While the officers busied themselves with their appearance, Xi Neng stood with a gloomy expression, speaking quietly to interpreter Xiu Gongshen.

Xiu Gongshen nodded toward Qin Detai.

“Old Qin, deploy the operation.”

Qin Detai was short and somewhat plump.

Normally he wore a constant smile and resembled a laughing Buddha.

Anyone who assumed he was kind-hearted because of this appearance would be gravely mistaken.

To rise from a third-class Chinese constable step by step to become Chief Inspector of the Central Police Station, the most important of the six police stations in the French Concession, required ability, methods, and luck in equal measure.

Qin Detai was known as the Smiling King Yama.

A person’s reputation cast a shadow of their character, and the nickname revealed much about his temperament and methods.

He first saluted Xi Neng.

Only after receiving a return salute did he step forward to address the officers.

“The specific assignments have already been distributed to each sergeant, so I won’t waste words.”

“The target of this operation is extremely important.”

Qin Detai raised two fingers.

“Two requirements.”

“Take the target alive!”

“No firearms!”

“Yes, sir!”

All the officers gave a French military salute, stamping their boots forcefully against the floor as they shouted in unison.

Qin Detai nodded with satisfaction.

Then he turned and respectfully saluted Xi Neng once more.

“Mr. Xi Neng, do you have anything to add?”

He spoke in French, though with a rather heavy Qingpu accent that sounded somewhat strange.

Xi Neng appeared to have been in a foul mood all day.

He waved a hand.

“Proceed.”

“Proceed!” Qin Detai immediately echoed.

The officers scattered in all directions under the leadership of their respective sergeants and deputy sergeants.

“Goldie, what’s the mission?”

“Yeah, why such a big operation?”

The officers crowded around Sergeant Jin Kemu, peppering him with questions.

Jin Kemu glanced at his subordinates.

How could he fail to understand what they were really thinking?

They were not concerned about the mission itself.

They wanted to know whether it was dangerous.

A bunch of cowards.

Still, the requirements of taking the target alive and forbidding gunfire were enough to make even Jin Kemu curse inwardly.

He had already decided that he would remain in overall command during this operation.

The dangerous charging and fighting would naturally be left to his subordinates.

Otherwise, what was the point of being an officer?

Jin Kemu removed a photograph from a document pouch and signalled for everyone to pass it around.

“Take a good look.”

He watched as the photograph circulated among the officers.

“Shuanglong Lane.”

Shuanglong Lane referred to the Shuanglong Lane Residence on Route Père Robert.

Cheng Qianfan was greatly alarmed.

They had an address and a photograph.

The target had clearly been under surveillance for a long time!

If that was the case, then the other teams of officers were probably also following prepared leads.

His expression remained perfectly natural as he watched the photograph pass from hand to hand.

Ma Yishou handed it to the eagerly waiting Cheng Qianfan.

The photograph appeared to have been taken secretly from a distance.

It showed a young man, somewhat thin, wearing glasses and a scarf around his neck, looking very much like a student.

“A student?” He Guan leaned over and asked doubtfully.

“What student? They’re all terrorists,” Jin Kemu cursed.

When the French Concession arrested Communists, they habitually charged them as “rioters” or “terrorists.”

In reality, Communist underground organizations rarely engaged in violent armed operations, especially within the concessions, where they generally remained quite law-abiding.

Of course, the Communist Special Branch’s Red Team was an exception.

That was the Communist assassination and anti-traitor squad.