by Zhou HaoHui
‘And when will that be?’
‘I don’t know.’
She sighed softly. ‘There’s something I also need to tell you,’ she said.
‘What’s that?’
‘I’ve been blind for more than half my life now. You can imagine just how much I long to see again. Earlier you told me that you could help me do that, but then you told me that you couldn’t even honour the agreement we made yesterday. To be honest, I’d far rather you honoured our agreement. At least that way I’d have a friend and not an empty promise. But I wonder if you’re even able to understand that.’
‘I do understand. Believe it or not, we have a lot in common.’
‘Then will you rethink your decision?’ she said, biting her lip.
He didn’t say anything for a long time. And when he did, she could barely believe her ears.
‘How did your father pass away?’
Unexpected as this question was, she found herself eager to answer it. ‘He was a police officer.’ The pain in her voice was tempered with pride. ‘Before he died, he was tracking down a killer. It was a really big case. The killer found him first, there was a struggle, and the killer won.’
She heard a sharp intake of breath. Even though she couldn’t see him, she felt his gaze on her.
‘And you want to find the killer?’ he said.
‘Of course. Then I could ask him why he did it. I doubt he’d tell me, but I would do everything I could to make him. I’d be so angry, I’d make him quake with fear. He’s the only person in the world who witnessed my father’s last moments, so I’d have questions. And once I got my answers, I’d want him to suffer the most severe punishment possible.’
The harshness of her words made a striking contrast to her gentle demeanour. Hot tears ran down her cheeks.
‘You want to find your father’s killer. And if you had the chance, you’d take revenge. Am I right?’
She nodded.
‘I’m really sorry,’ he said, ‘but I have no choice. There are things I need to do.’
8
BAIT
1 November, 7:41 a.m.
Holding cell, criminal police headquarters
The young man was alone in the room. His right hand was manacled to a chair.
He appeared to be in his twenties and was dressed from head to toe in fashionable brands, including a jacket unzipped to just below his chest. Despite the handcuffs, he seemed relaxed; he was leaning back in the chair and had his legs crossed. He looked more like someone in a café waiting for his date to arrive than a suspect in police custody.
The holding cell was sparsely furnished. Besides the chair, there was only a wooden table and a massive mirror that hung conspicuously on the western wall. The man sat facing the mirror, admiring his reflection.
Captain Pei and TSO Zeng stood on the other side, observing him through the two-way mirror.
‘How did you find him?’ Pei asked.
‘It wasn’t easy,’ Zeng said. ‘That’s for sure. At first I thought it would simply be a question of tracking down his boss. Shows what I know. It turns out that online reporters generally don’t have a boss, or not this one, anyway. He’s a freelancer. I contacted the site that he uploaded the interview to, but they wouldn’t budge. Not to begin with, anyway. I called them back and finally managed to get the name and number of the bank account that they had on record for him.’
‘They gave you that information just like that?’
‘Well, I might have said that I worked for the accounts department at their parent company. But come to think of it,’ Zeng said with a wink, ‘I can’t really remember.’
Had this been any other case, Pei would have reprimanded him for failing to comply with proper legal procedures. But this was different.
‘I looked into the bank account they gave me. Turns out he opened it using fake ID.’
Pei smirked. ‘Giving you a reason to bring him in.’
‘He’s definitely sailing close to the wind. He goes by the name Zhen Rufeng online. That byline is linked to multiple unsavoury interviews and stories that infringe people’s privacy. No wonder he uses a pseudonym. In fact, some of the people linked to those reports have tried to get revenge on him through their own illegal means. Which explains why he was so hard to find.’
‘I’m having a hard time feeling sorry for him,’ Pei said.
‘We started keeping tabs on some of the online accounts he uses most frequently. At around four this morning he logged onto his QQ instant messaging account in a bathhouse downtown. I went there immediately with two other officers and we brought him back here.’
Pei noticed the marks on Zeng’s forehead. ‘Did you attack him?’ he asked.
Zeng scratched his head awkwardly and then forced a smile. ‘Who wouldn’t want to punch that asshole in the face? I didn’t do it on purpose, though. He hit me first and I just reciprocated. Don’t let his height fool you – he’s no match for me.’
Pei shook his head. ‘Have you done a background check on him?’
‘His name is Du Mingqiang. He’s twenty-six years old, from Guizhou. I’ve got a lot of info on him, but I haven’t found anything too out of the ordinary so far. You can have a look for yourself though.’ Zeng handed Pei a file full of printouts.
‘Take him to the interrogation room. I’ll go first. And tell everyone that we’ll meet in the conference room at eight thirty to discuss our newest plan in detail.’
‘Yes, sir.’
*
When Zeng entered the interrogation room, the reporter was not in a good mood.
‘On what grounds am I being held?’ Du howled. ‘What reason did you have to attack me? You’re going to hear from my lawyer!’
‘Hold still or you’ll be saying that from inside a prison cell.’
Zeng shoved him down into the interrogation chair as Pei watched from the doorway. Then Zeng nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
The room was small, about six paces wide and half as long. Pei slowly walked towards the table, but he didn’t sit down.
He looked at Du. The reporter was handsome, no doubt about that. Long hair framed his angular cheekbones and prominent nose. Well-defined lips curled into a proud, rebellious smile. But it was Du’s eyes that really caught Pei’s attention. His irises looked as dark as his pupils. Pitch-black eyes stared right back at him.
‘Is your name Du Mingqiang?’ he asked.
‘I know the law and I know my rights. You’re legally required to tell me who you are.’
‘Pei Tao, captain of Chengdu’s criminal police,’ he said. ‘Would you like to see my badge?’
Du stiffened and shot Pei a look of utter confusion. ‘You’re the captain of the police? Are you aware that you’ve got the wrong person?’
Pei set a plain manila folder on the table. Without another word he took out an MP3 player and tapped the play button.
‘According to your account, the killer let the girl go because you agreed to cut off your own hand. You finally found your inner courage and realised what it meant to truly assume the responsibilities of a teacher. Is that correct?’
He paused the device. ‘Is that your voice?’
Du didn’t answer. His dark eyes flitted around the room.
‘Seeing as you’re already here,’ Pei said, ‘there’s no need for you to overthink things.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Du said, shrugging haplessly.
Pei was not convinced. ‘Maybe the name “Zhen Rufeng” will help jog your memory. We’ve already tracked down your online accounts, as well as the bank account you use to receive payments for your freelance work.’ Pei enunciated the last two words with palpable distaste. ‘We’ve also retrieved a laptop from your place of residence. I’m sure we’ll find a few interesting files on that hard drive, won’t we?’
Du’s innocent expression gradually faded to a grimace. ‘Fine. That was my voice. I put that recording online.’
‘Good.’ Pei put the MP3 player back in his pocket and stared coldly at Du.
‘So what if it’s me? I didn’t do anything illegal. On what grounds am I being detained?’
Pei remained silent, keeping his eyes on the suspect.
Du sneered. ‘Oh, I get it. I got in the way of your investigation. Is that it, my esteemed captain? That Eumenides is a slippery bastard, isn’t he? But even so, shouldn’t you be focused on tracking him down instead of taking out your frustration on small fry like me?’
Anger surged through Pei, but he stayed his rage. ‘There’s no need for you to embarrass yourself any further. We already know the truth. You drove a man to his death.’
The cramped interrogation room seemed to shrink as Du turned pale. He shook his head and sighed. ‘Teacher Wu committed suicide – how is that my fault? I’m just a reporter.’
‘A reporter? Do you have the credentials to back that up? A press pass, for instance?’
To Pei’s surprise, Du blushed.
‘I might not have those, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a good reporter,’ Du said. ‘I don’t need to hide behind a piece of plastic, unlike some. I actually have talent and I don’t need any so-called official credentials to prove it.’
‘In that case, your meeting with Teacher Wu was on dubious grounds from a legal point of view.’
‘All right, so it was an unlicensed interview,’ Du muttered. His face had returned to its usual shade, but his voice was tense. ‘Why are the criminal police so interested in a low-level offence like this? Don’t you have bigger things to worry about?’
‘Any illegal activity falls under our jurisdiction. You also pretended to be a police officer. And we found a veritable treasure trove of pornographic images on your hard drive. In short, we have the right to detain you for as long as the law permits.’
Du’s eyes widened. ‘You’re keeping me in custody? For how long?’ he asked, his lower lip trembling.
‘Though we have the right to do so, we’re not planning to detain you. Consider yourself lucky.’
Du’s eyebrows shot up. ‘What are you going to do with me?’
Pei was silent.
‘This isn’t a police state!’ Du yelled, the words bursting out of him. ‘I know my rights! Anything you do to me has to be in accordance with the law!’
Pei snorted. ‘Oh, so now you’re concerned about the law? You should have thought about that when you went to the hospital to interview Teacher Wu. Did you consider the consequences at all? I bet you had no idea you were entering into a deadly game when you pushed Teacher Wu into committing suicide.’
‘What are you talking about?’
Pei opened the folder and removed an envelope. ‘We found this in your home.’
Du picked it up, struggling awkwardly because of the handcuffs. ‘It’s my credit card statement. What’s so strange about that?’
‘Have you opened the envelope?’
‘I always throw those letters out. I’m never overdue on my payments.’
‘It was open when we found it,’ Pei said. Then, intentionally lowering his voice, he added, ‘But we know who opened it, and it wasn’t you.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘Open the envelope and see for yourself.’
Du reached in and pulled out a piece of paper. It was unusually thin – it appeared to be writing paper, not a bank statement. When he spread it out on the table, his jaw fell open in astonishment.
Death Notice
THE ACCUSED: Zhen Rufeng
CRIMES: Malicious reporting, pushing a man into committing suicide
DATE OF PUNISHMENT: November
EXECUTIONER: Eumenides
The one thing that distinguished this death notice from all the others that Pei had seen was that instead of a specific date there was simply an ink blot.
Eumenides shouldn’t have been so careless, Pei thought. Something must have happened after the letter was delivered to Du’s apartment.
When Du finally got himself together again, he shook his head in disbelief. ‘Wha… What the hell is this?’
‘You interviewed Teacher Wu and you still don’t know what this is?’
Bewilderment was written all over Du’s face. ‘One of Eumenides’ death notices? For me? Why would he issue me with a death notice?’
‘So you do know what it is,’ Pei said, nodding. ‘Good. This right here is the real reason we brought you in.’
‘I understand! One hundred per cent!’ Du blurted out. ‘This is…’ Slowly, his demeanour changed. ‘I don’t know how to describe it. I’ve never felt more excited in my life.’
Surprised, Pei wondered if he’d misheard.
Du laughed. ‘Ha! You think it’s strange, don’t you, that I’m excited to see this note? You think I should be scared.’ His right hand clenched into a fist and he was trembling. ‘Yes, I am scared, but that’s nothing compared to how excited I am. Anyone else would see this note as a threat. But to me it means something else entirely.’
‘And what might that be?’
‘It’s the scoop of the decade!’ If it hadn’t been for his restraints, he’d probably have leapt out of the interrogation chair. ‘I don’t care what you say about my credentials – I’m a damn good reporter. And now I have a starring role in this story. It’s a dream come true! You can be sure I’ll write one hell of an exclusive.’
Pei watched this strange performance with detachment. He wasn’t sure whether he should pity Du or simply laugh at his arrogance.
‘That BMW driver, Ye Shaohong – the restaurant owner who got herself blown up; and those two students who humiliated Teacher Wu; those are the victims I already know about. But there have to be more, right?’
Pei shook his head. Du was asking for confidential information. He weighed it up. While he wasn’t supposed to divulge such details, doing so would help win Du’s trust – exactly what the next step of his plan required.
‘Many more, in fact,’ he said. ‘We’ve kept the names of the victims from the public. One of them was Mayor Deng.’
Du’s eyes were on stalks now. ‘Mayor Deng? Eumenides killed Mayor Deng? The news said he had a heart attack in the airport!’
‘Do you believe everything you read in the news?’
Du grinned. ‘Of course not. The mainstream media never tells people the truth. That’s why society needs people like me.’
Pei tried not to let his disgust at Du’s egotism show. ‘Eumenides managed to get past our people as well as Mayor Deng’s own bodyguards. He disappeared before we had a chance to catch him.’
Du was transfixed.
‘There’s something else you should be aware of,’ Pei went on. ‘Eumenides isn’t one for empty threats. He’s fulfilled every death notice he’s ever delivered.’
‘A 100-per-cent success rate, huh? That’ll be a great detail to add to my story,’ Du said to himself. His eyes flicked to the death notice then back to Pei. His forehead creased. ‘But doesn’t that mean…’
It’s finally sunk in, Pei thought.
Du examined the death notice again. ‘What’s wrong with the date?’ he asked.
‘The number’s smudged. Do you know how that happened?’
Du frowned and looked more closely at the piece of paper. Then he snapped his fingers. ‘It must have been an accident. Like I said, I never open these kinds of letters; I just leave them lying around until I throw them out. When I was refilling my pen last night, I shoved an envelope underneath the ink bottle to catch any drips. It must have been this one.’ He held up the envelope again. Several drops of jet-black ink decorated the back. ‘I guess things got a bit messy.’
‘The date was smudged when we found this letter. If this is your first time seeing it, Eumenides is the only one who knows what was originally written there.’
‘Can’t your forensics lab check the letter for, I don’t know, impressions left by Eumenides’ pen?’ Du asked, almost pleading.
‘Getting
desperate now, are you?’ Pei said. ‘Well, our forensics people already checked. It appears that Eumenides wrote each death notice with a fine-tipped brush. An aesthetic choice, perhaps. But that means it’s impossible to see what he originally wrote.’
Du stared at the paper. He held it right up to his eyes, as if trying to penetrate the layer of smudged ink.
‘Was the envelope open when you put it under the ink bottle last night?’ Pei asked.
Du shook his head. ‘I don’t remember. That detail didn’t seem as important then.’
‘Regardless,’ Pei replied coldly, ‘the one thing you should be thinking about now is how your name ended up on one of the killer’s death notices.’
Taking a measured breath, Du lowered his gaze. ‘I know what kind of person you think I am. You police types claim to be paragons of virtue and you judge me to be a slimy wannabe reporter. In your eyes, I deserve to get this letter from Eumenides. Maybe I even deserve the punishment. But that’s not the main issue. The real question is: why am I here now?
‘And the answer’s quite simple, isn’t it? No matter how many times you say that my interview caused Teacher Wu to commit suicide, your argument won’t hold water in court. I know what I’m talking about – I’ve argued my way out of legal scrapes before. The law can’t punish me and at the same time it won’t allow someone like Eumenides to wantonly take my life. As a guardian of the law, you have no choice but to protect me. No matter how much you detest me, it’s still your duty. Am I right?’
‘Yes,’ Pei said. ‘You have a good grasp of the situation.’
‘Like I said, I’m damn good at what I do. Prising out secrets, knowing what people are thinking, you name it. If I’d had the same opportunities that you’ve had, who knows, maybe I could have been a police captain.’ Du chuckled. ‘But my life followed a different track, and it left me with only one option – to become a great journalist.
‘You think whatever you want.’
‘You don’t understand me and neither do your colleagues. But I don’t care. Geniuses are rarely understood in their time.’
Pei was getting used to Du’s narcissism, but as he observed him he felt a mix of emotions. All of his instincts told him that he was looking at a dead man.