by Zhou HaoHui
‘That’s the key. Since the killer surpassed the victim in terms of looks and social status, we don’t need to figure out what he wanted from her. I believe that if the murder was sudden and unplanned, it’s likely the victim did something to enrage him.’
‘Any thoughts as to what that might have been?’ Pei asked, his curiosity growing.
‘The girl was sensitive and introverted, but she also suffered from an inferiority complex. People like that aren’t exactly skilled when it comes to social interactions. It’s easy for them to say something that unintentionally hurts someone else.’
‘And that’s how you think she provoked the killer?’
Ms Mu answered with another question. ‘What sort of comments do people find most hurtful?’
Pei pursed his lips. Her question had caught him off guard.
‘That reminds me of something. TSO Zeng,’ Ms Mu said, turning to the computer expert, her tone suddenly stern. ‘I’ve been reporting on your recent performance to the captain over the last two weeks.’
‘That’s, um, very thoughtful of you,’ Zeng said, the confusion clear on his face.
Ms Mu’s expression hardened. ‘Firstly, I think you greatly overestimate your skills as a computer expert. Secondly, and more importantly, Captain Pei and I have serious questions about the strategies you’ve implemented in our investigation so far. I’m going to recommend you be dismissed from the task force.’
Zeng’s jaw dropped. He looked at Pei with pleading eyes.
To the surprise of both Pei and Zeng, Lieutenant Yin slowly began to grin. A muffled chuckle escaped his lips. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Yes, that would do it.’
‘What?’ Zeng slammed his hands against the table. ‘What the hell’s going on?’
Ms Mu smiled apologetically at him and let out a small laugh. ‘Forgive me! It was an experiment. I just wanted to see how you’d respond when I said those things – to prove my point about the killer’s reaction.’
‘Oh,’ Zeng said, his cheeks flushing.
‘How did you feel when I said that you overestimated your computer skills?’
‘Not angry, that’s for sure. You don’t know the first thing about computers, so why should I listen to you?’
‘What about when I criticised your investigative abilities?’
‘That’s different,’ Zeng said. ‘You and Captain Pei know far more about investigating a case than I ever will. But you’d never attack someone like that. That’s why I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.’
‘Again, it was just an experiment. Please don’t take it to heart.’ Ms Mu squeezed his shoulder sympathetically and Zeng grinned like a child who’d just been given an extra sweet.
‘Could you explain the point of this “experiment” to everyone else?’ Pei said impatiently.
‘It’s only natural to get angry when someone attacks your vulnerable points or scratches you where you’re most sensitive. These are known as “psychological wounds” and, just like physical wounds, when they’re prodded, intense pain follows.’
‘You mean that the girl did or said something to trigger the killer’s psychological wound?’
‘Exactly. A wound right at the heart of his hidden inferiority complex. It could have been this wound that caused the killer to seek out someone he could feel superior to. But somehow she still managed to hit the spot that set him off. That’s my hypothesis.’
‘So what exactly might this wound be?’ Pei asked, squinting at her. This was it, he sensed – the detail that would allow them to pinpoint the killer.
Ms Mu, however, just shrugged. ‘Hard to say. Perhaps some lingering childhood trauma or memories of a dysfunctional family. Or maybe it’s a physical flaw or defect. Either way, it’s something he doesn’t want other people to see. And given that he’s actively tried to hide it from the world, it would be extremely difficult to identify and search for. Impossible, even.’
Pei responded with a resigned nod. He didn’t doubt the accuracy of her analysis.
‘Assuming the killer wasn’t totally psychotic and that the victim did trigger him by making some kind of personal jibe,’ TSO Zeng said, eager to prove himself in the discussion, ‘who here can explain why this individual mutilated the girl’s body?’
‘To answer that, we need to put ourselves in the killer’s shoes,’ Pei said. ‘As he stood inside his home staring at the body of the girl he had just killed, what was the most pressing issue on his mind?’
‘Getting rid of the body, of course,’ Huang answered immediately.
‘And what clues did he need to conceal while disposing of the body?’ Pei asked.
Huang muttered to himself for a moment. Tapping his knuckles against the table, he said, ‘Besides leaving trace evidence? More than anything else, he’d need to prevent the police from pinpointing his location.’
‘Now I understand,’ Ms Mu said. ‘If the killer met the victim by chance, it wouldn’t matter to him that the police could identify her. But the fact that the murder took place inside his own home was definitely something to worry about. When he disposed of the body, his priority would have been to prevent the police from discovering where the murder happened.’
‘Obviously, the safest thing would be to dispose of it as far away from his home as possible,’ Pei said, nodding. ‘But the killer was on his own and he hadn’t prepared for that. How was he able to get rid of an adult body a sufficient distance from his house?’
‘First he’d need to find something to put the body in,’ Ms Mu said. ‘A large suitcase or a cardboard box, for example. Then he’d have to use some kind of vehicle, like a car or something that could carry cargo. He’d have to set out at night, using the cover of darkness.’
‘Given all that, the only option would have been to divide up the body and scatter its parts around the city,’ Lieutenant Yin said. ‘But that wouldn’t have been easy. He’d have to have accessed a vehicle and the containers right away.’
‘The way he eventually disposed of the evidence tells us that he used the simplest and most effective methods available to him, all while minimising the risk of being discovered,’ Pei said.
Huang snapped his fingers. ‘What if he threw the torso into some water? The Jin River, for instance? We dredged the rivers back then, but if he’d only disposed of part of the body, we could have missed it.’
‘Good point!’ Lieutenant Yin exclaimed. ‘If the killer lived near a river, that would be the easiest way to get rid of the rest of the body. It could be lying right on the bottom.’
‘He hacked off the girl’s head, scooped out her organs and cut off her skin and muscles,’ Huang said, thinking aloud. ‘He was trying to prevent the body from floating, wasn’t he?’
‘Precisely,’ Pei said. ‘For the moment, let’s assume he lived by a river. He was completely unprepared when he killed her, so he began wracking his brains for a way to get rid of the body. The river near his home was the first place that came to mind. But he was smart enough to know that the corpse would bloat and float to the surface if he tossed it in, thus drawing the police closer to where he lived. So he stripped the girl’s clothes off, chopped off her limbs, carved off her flesh and sliced her chest open, ensuring that she wouldn’t float to the surface.’
Ms Mu clutched her stomach. She regretted having had breakfast before the meeting.
Pei, however, showed no sign of stopping. ‘Thus leaving a bloody, unidentifiable torso, which he wrapped in something that would soak up water and sink with it. Maybe a bedsheet. He tossed it into the river while it was still dark. With that out of the way, he dealt with the remaining pieces of the cadaver. That was much easier; he simply collected some plastic bags for the flesh and a suitcase for the head and organs. After packing everything up, he drove or took some sort of transport away from his home, dropping the grotesque parcels along the way.’
‘Causing the police to assume that they were dealing with a serial killer in the making,’ Lieutenant Yin murmured. ‘And
thereby barking up the wrong tree.’
‘Does that explain why he cooked the organs and the skull – to misdirect the police?’ TSO Zeng rasped.
‘That must have been one reason,’ Pei answered. ‘But the primary reason would have been convenience. If he hadn’t boiled those body parts, the suitcase would have got soaked with blood and who knows what else. It would have leaked all over the place.’
Pei now had a clear idea of how the killer had disposed of the body. He paused to give the rest of the team time to process the new information. ‘What does everyone think?’ he asked.
‘It makes sense,’ Ms Mu said. ‘We now have answers to the questions that previously stumped us. We thought we were dealing with a psychopath, but it seems we’ve been looking at this case all wrong.’
Lieutenant Yin and TSO Zeng both nodded approvingly. Huang was the only person in the room who still appeared hesitant. He shut his eyes and mumbled something under his breath. After letting out a long sigh, he finally opened his eyes again.
‘Okay, I admit it. Things do make more sense if we’re to believe this theory of yours.’
‘Excellent,’ Pei said, smiling. He felt proud. Not only had he made headway in this investigation, he’d also won the approval of a former police investigator. He turned to the two junior officers in the room. ‘Lieutenant Yin. TSO Zeng.’
‘Yes, sir!’ they said in unison.
‘Start looking for an individual who fits this description: male, around forty years of age, relatively handsome, of notable social status, unmarried, lives alone. Focus your search on people who live near a river. Use whatever means necessary to find them. Report back to this room when you’re finished. We’ll be here discussing the case.’
‘Yes, sir!’ the two officers repeated.
What with Lieutenant Yin’s contacts throughout Chengdu and TSO Zeng’s access to police databases, Pei was hopeful that between them they would have a broad reach. With luck, they might find a suspect soon.
*
1:09 p.m.
‘Finished already?’ Captain Pei asked as Lieutenant Yin returned to the conference room. ‘Incredible.’
‘We aren’t 100 per cent done with our searches,’ Yin hastened to say, ‘but we have identified a prime suspect. You need to see this.’
Pei’s brow creased. ‘If you haven’t finished analysing everyone, how can you have come up with a main suspect?’
‘Let me explain. We haven’t had time to organise all of our results, but as soon as we saw this person’s file, we both knew we had to tell you. His name…’ Lieutenant Yin gulped, choking on his own excitement. ‘It’s Professor Ding Zhen!’
Huang gaped at Lieutenant Yin, seemingly unable to believe his ears.
Only Ms Mu remained unfazed. As she reflected on the meeting she’d had with Professor Ding several days earlier, she was struck by how closely he fitted the suspect’s profile. He was good-looking, a respected professor, had experienced an unhappy childhood and was a confirmed bachelor. Nodding thoughtfully, she said, ‘Good work. Professor Ding does fit the description all right.’
‘He lives in Jinjiang District, beside the Jin River. The university provided him with the apartment when he began working there. He’s been living there for over a decade now,’ Lieutenant Yin said.
As Pei recovered from his surprise, he realised why Yin had come to him before he’d completed the full search. This revelation alone answered so many questions.
He now knew why Captain Ding Ke had gone into hiding and why Eumenides had chosen to pursue this decade-old case. The answers were now staring them in the face.
Captain Ding Ke’s son was the Bagman Killer.
19
DEATH OF THE SON
1:21 p.m.
College of Environmental Engineering, Sichuan University
Every morning at eleven o’clock, Gao ordered Professor Ding’s lunch. She then took it into his office. The professor always read as he ate, typically from a scientific journal. Gao would return to her desk and when her phone rang she’d know that he had finished eating. She then retrieved the detritus from his office while he used the rest of his break to take a brief nap.
Today was different though. Gao had taken his lunch in at eleven thirty, but by the time she looked up from the stack of applications she had just finished reviewing, she realised that nearly two hours had passed without the professor’s usual phone call.
She walked over and tapped twice on his door. There was no sound from inside.
Was he sleeping? While it was unlike the professor to take a two-hour nap, that seemed to be the most likely explanation.
Another thought suddenly occurred to her – if the professor had forgotten to put on his jacket, he might catch cold. Worried, she gently pushed the door open and slipped inside the room.
To her surprise, Professor Ding wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t working either. The middle-aged man was sitting ramrod straight at his desk, his gaze seemingly fixed on a point at the opposite end of the office.
Gao took several cautious steps towards him. She noted the unopened carton of spicy tofu and steamed vegetables on the desk. The disposable chopsticks were still in their wrapper.
‘You haven’t eaten, Professor,’ she said, her tone a mix of concern and mild rebuke.
The professor slowly turned his eyes on his secretary, as though just noticing her presence. He appeared somewhat dazed and preoccupied.
‘I know how busy you are, but surely you can spare a little bit of time to eat your lunch!’ Gao reached for the carton. It was cold to the touch. ‘I’ll go and find a microwave.’
‘That won’t be necessary,’ Professor Ding said in a low voice. He attempted to wave her out of the office, but he could barely lift his arm above his desk before it flopped back down.
‘Is something wrong? Are you feeling all right, Professor?’
Gao set down the container and hurriedly stepped around the desk. Professor Ding raised his arm again. ‘I’m fine,’ he rasped, his voice as gritty as sandpaper. ‘You can go back to the other room.’
Now even more concerned, she placed the back of her hand against his forehead. ‘Do you have a fever?’
Professor Ding trembled slightly at Gao’s soft touch. He looked up at his secretary, taking in her young, attractive face. She was so close, he could smell her perfume. A primal urge crept through him, but he flinched and recoiled.
Sadness washed over Gao’s face. She turned for the door but then stopped and looked back. Her eyes locked onto his. As the afternoon sun streamed across his face, something glistened in his eyes. Her heart leapt. It wasn’t like him to show such naked emotion. For years she’d thought he was incapable of feeling strongly about anything except his work. During the long hours she spent at her desk, she’d begun to imagine that a mechanical heart ticked away inside his body, one that prohibited him from feeling any emotion or affection. But now she knew that he could cry.
She hesitated before summoning up the courage to speak. ‘Zhen, what’s wrong?’
She had never addressed him by his first name before, but the sight of his tears had dispelled her inhibitions.
‘Go back to the other room,’ he said, managing a pained smile. Tears still glittered in his eyes. ‘There’s nothing here you can help me with.’
She came closer. As she wiped the tears from his face, she whispered, ‘I may not be able to help you, but at least let me stay here with you. Even though you never say it, I know you need me.’
The professor closed his eyes but could not stop the tears from coming. They ran over Gao’s fingers, gleaming in the light. She leant in and kissed the corner of his right eye. His tears were bitter on her tongue, but the feeling rising in her heart was sweeter than anything she’d ever experienced.
Professor Ding did not reject her advances. Instead, he bent his head towards her, savouring her perfume. It smelt like lilies and honey. Suddenly, an overwhelming desire surged through him.
It w
as a pure, animalistic impulse, one that he had not allowed himself to feel for years. He had dulled himself to its siren call with an ever-increasing workload, erecting an icy wall between himself and such lustful thoughts. Deep down, he had feelings and even wished that someday he might find love. But he never dared indulge that line of thinking. The same fear always lingered: that he would destroy himself, and that he would destroy someone else, again.
Now, however, he no longer had to consider the consequences. His life would soon be consequence-free.
Gao sensed this change in his mood. She moved her lips to his cheek and then to his mouth. His skin was wet from his tears and cool in the autumn air, but that did not dampen the passion smouldering between them.
At some point his own tears stopped and he found he was tasting Gao’s tears instead. He didn’t know why she was crying.
‘You like me. It’s as clear as day,’ she said as she wept. ‘So why do you treat me like this?’
Professor Ding couldn’t answer but just pulled her closer. Gao knelt on the floor and as she buried her head in his arms she began to sob uncontrollably.
He pressed his nose into the nape of her neck. For far too long he’d dreamt of embracing someone like this. The woman in front of him now had appeared in his dreams more than any other. He had held her tight in so many of those fantasies.
This was no dream. For a fleeting moment he wondered if the reality would really be better.
Her shapely back trembled and her breasts pressed against his leg through her tight-fitting top. There was a new sensation between his legs. Gao’s sobs immediately stopped and she looked up at him through misty eyes.
The professor’s breathing quickened. He squeezed her harder and began kissing her neck; his other hand reached inside her sweater to explore the supple curves beneath.
A quiet moan escaped Gao’s lips. She responded eagerly, placing her hand between his legs. His hand cupped a breast and her fingers moved to his belt buckle. Seconds later the belt fell to the floor. Her hands slid inside his trousers and he groaned with pleasure.