by Zhou HaoHui
“Why would Eumenides be interested in you?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
Deng snorted to himself. He flashed Pei a smile as authentic as a plastic rose. “It would seem we have a few things in common. Both of us have received notes from Eumenides, and we were both close to people who received death notices eighteen years ago. For you, it was Yuan Zhibang. And myself? I counted Xue Dalin among my closest friends.”
“Good friends?” Han had mentioned nothing about Deng’s previous life during their briefing earlier. His jaw slightly agape, he asked, “What do you mean? Exactly how close were you to Xue Dalin?”
“You aren’t familiar with the narcotics bust that took place eighteen years ago?”
“Of course,” Pei replied without hesitation. “It’s legendary around these parts. I was still studying at the provincial academy back then. Everyone majoring in criminal investigation was talking about that case. It’s a classic example of how to work with a police informant.”
Pei’s description brought a sincere grin to Deng’s face. He couldn’t deny the satisfaction of hearing about his life’s turning point from a police officer such as Pei.
“I was the insider. I’m Deng Yulong.”
Pei was stunned. He never would have guessed that the man sitting before him was the “one-man army” that had become a legend among the Chengdu police force. Pei’s mind raced—Xue Dalin had received a death notice eighteen years ago, and Deng Hua had just received one now. Both men had been involved in the same narcotics case eighteen years ago. Was it more than coincidence?
“Did you know Bai Feifei?” Deng asked.
“Bai Feifei?” The name seemed to ring a bell. Pei knitted his brows in thought. Finally, it came to him. “She used to date Yuan Zhibang. The offenses listed on Yuan’s death notice included womanizing, which was in regard to her.”
Deng had kept his eyes fixed on Pei this whole time. Now a look of relief came over him.
“Captain Pei, I believe our conversation is finished. It was a pleasure talking to you.” Deng sounded relieved.
“Is that it?” Pei didn’t follow, but something told him that a man like Deng wouldn’t make this much of an effort to see him just to ask several random questions.
“Yes, it is.” Deng glanced at his watch. “I need to hold a group-management meeting at ten. That’s in five minutes. I’m needed in the meeting room next door.”
Pei involuntarily checked his own wristwatch. “Your watch is fast. It’s exactly 9:50 right now.”
“A habit of mine. My time is always five minutes ahead of everyone else’s. That way, even if I’m five minutes late, I’m still on time.”
It wasn’t a bad habit, Pei mused. But as a police officer, he always kept his personal clock aligned with the precise time.
Of course.
“Officer Pei,” Hua said, taking a step forward, “you can go back downstairs now. Don’t you still need to discuss something with your colleagues in the lobby?”
“Yes, I do!” Pei shot out of the chair and strode to the door, running out as soon as he could and even breaking into a jog.
Hua gaped after the officer. “What was that about? He can’t be Mu’s informant, can he?”
Deng offered a confused shake of his head. “No. There’s one thing we can be sure of—he isn’t the person we’re looking for.”
“Then the task before us is clear. Sheng and the others left half an hour ago. We should have some information coming in soon.”
“You and Sheng have both proven your value in the past. I’m confident that I won’t be disappointed. Besides, the person they’re dealing with can barely walk. But there’s no need for you to concern yourself with that at the moment,” Deng said, rising from his seat. “Come with me to the conference room.”
Hua followed his employer into the next room.
* * *
Downstairs, Pei stepped out of the elevator and into the first-floor lobby. As soon as they spotted him, Liu and Mu gathered close.
“That was fast. What did you two talk about?” Mu asked.
“Captain Pei,” Liu blurted, “what are we going to do? Should we call the city department or provincial supervisors now?”
Pei suspected that Liu had already convinced himself that Yin was connected to Xiong’s death, and wanted to arrest him as soon as possible. However, there were more urgent matters at hand. “No, there isn’t enough time now,” Pei said. “I have a situation, and I need to leave right away. You two stay here. Don’t do anything until I get back.”
“What’s going on?” Mu asked. “This isn’t like you.”
“Then what do we do about Yin?” Liu was dumbfounded. “Are we just going to leave it alone?”
The captain’s mind was racing, and he forced himself to focus. “Deng’s plane leaves at 8:40 tonight. I’ll be back before five, when we go to the airport. Nothing will go wrong as long as he doesn’t leave this building. Do the both of you understand?” The two of them nodded. “Just remember what I said, and don’t do anything until I’m back.”
Pei couldn’t bear to wait another second. He had finally seen through the paradox. The two-minute discrepancy, the eighteen-year wait. It all made sense.
There was just one question he needed to answer—Why?
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Pei arrived at the Cockroach Nest. Once he had navigated the shabby alleyway, the dim apartment lay ahead of him. His blood ran cold.
He was already too late.
The door was wide open, but no one was there. Once inside, Pei saw that the home was far more cluttered than it had been during his last visit. The table and chairs had been overturned and the blanket had been torn apart. Huang’s collection of miscellaneous trash was scattered all over the floor.
Someone had ransacked this apartment. Pei poked through the mess with his foot, trying to find some clue as to when Huang had left. It was impossible to tell. What interested him more was the suggestion that someone—or perhaps even more than one person—had come by this apartment in hopes of finding something.
Where had he gone? What had these other people been looking for? And had they already found it?
Questions swam through his mind like eels through a muddied river. He wracked his brain, but was unable to fit any of the pieces into a narrative that made sense.
Huang must have known that Pei would come. He had known ever since Pei had mentioned the two-minute discrepancy during his previous visit.
Perhaps he was hiding in some dark corner, chuckling to himself smugly. Pei stepped into the doorway of the apartment and peered in each direction. He clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and roared out into the alley.
An elderly woman poked her head out of a window in the opposite building and gaped at him. Pei turned and saw a pair of older men staring back at him as well. Both looked to be in their late fifties or sixties, and both wore dark faux-leather jackets.
“Where are you? Come out and face me!” he yelled.
* * *
The burned man watched the apartment from his hidden spot. Beyond the alleyway, the sunlight streamed through the window of a nearby residential building, allowing for a clear view of the alley. However, the sunlight also rendered the man invisible to anyone at the apartment who might be looking for him.
Within the past hour he had seen a team of black-uniformed men enter his home. He knew who the men were, and why they had come.
The plan, his gambit, still had a real chance at success.
Originally, he hadn’t even had the need to make such a move. But his opponent was extremely troublesome, and had forced the man’s hand.
When they came to his apartment, it confirmed his hypothesis.
“It isn’t that I don’t want to face you. This simply isn’t the appropriate place,” he murmured,
his voice ghostly. He descended the stairs one step at a time, hobbling against his cane.
It’s time for this to end. Let’s finish this last move together, he thought. No matter how elegant the preceding movements were, the piece won’t work unless it ends on just the right note.
CHAPTER TEN
THE BIRTH OF EUMENIDES
OCTOBER 25, 11:03 A.M.
THE JADE GARDEN
The Jade Garden restaurant was located at the southern end of Xingcheng Road, right in the center of Chengdu’s industrial development zone, an area packed with startups and up-and-coming businesses. The restaurant was relatively small, but its elegant interior design had turned it into a favorite destination among the local white-collar workforce. By 11:00 a.m., customers were already streaming through its doors. The restaurant staff went about their regular work, which was the well-organized chaos of any busy restaurant.
A man approached the restaurant. He was wearing a long trench coat with a broad hood that hung over the upper half of his face. He had concealed the rest of his features beneath a white air-pollution mask. While a mask like this was common, especially in China’s larger cities, the combined effect of his outfit was odd, to say the least. With his head lowered, the man’s entire body retreated into the trench coat, like a wounded animal taking shelter from a storm.
He leaned on his cane as he walked, his right leg trailing limply behind him. The man shambled into the restaurant one cautious step at a time.
In spite of the customer’s appearance, the hostess greeted him with a warm and welcoming smile. “How many people are in your party, sir?”
Ignoring her, the man walked straight toward a table nestled in a corner of the restaurant. There were no windows nearby and few people had chosen to sit there.
He deliberately sat at the table closest to the juncture of the walls. From this cramped angle, he had a full view of the restaurant’s interior.
A server handed the man a menu, but he gently pushed it away. “I’m not hungry,” he said, his voice sounding as if it were trying to claw its way out from his lungs. “I’d like to speak to Ms. Guo.”
“Is there something you’d like to speak to her about?” the server asked. The man’s question had caught her off-guard. She tried to get a closer look at him, but he kept his head low. The mask obscured most of his face.
“I’m here to collect on a debt,” he said.
“And your name?”
“Tell her that an old friend sent me.”
Perplexed, the server walked away to fetch her boss.
The owner of the Jade Garden was a twenty-seven-year-old woman named Guo Meiran. Her rather attractive appearance was complemented by a spirited personality. Every day she would stop by the restaurant to check on the front counter and kitchen. After the server informed her of the man, she emerged from the kitchen and surveyed the situation. No matter how hard she searched her memory, she remembered nothing about a debt, and certainly not one to a man who looked like the one she saw sitting in the corner. She hesitated before walking over to the table. If she was startled by the man’s appearance or his message, she did not show it.
“How may I help you, sir?”
The man tilted his head to look at her. “I’m here to collect on a debt.”
“I heard. What exactly do you feel I owe you?” she asked, smiling.
The man finally lifted his head. His eyes were so blood-red that Guo had to fight the urge to shriek.
“You owe me nothing. I’m here on behalf of Xu Yunhua.”
Her previously friendly tone was replaced by an icy chill. “Who are you?”
Rather than answer, the man reached out and seized Guo’s left wrist. The owner felt a cold sensation upon her flesh. When she looked down, she saw a pair of handcuffs linking her wrist to his.
“Let go of me!” she demanded. She tried to wrench herself away, but the man held on with a strength that felt almost inhuman. Guo lost her balance, and as she staggered down the man yanked her onto the seat adjacent to his.
“What in the world is wrong with you?” Guo’s fear overwhelmed all her other thoughts, and ignored the other customers around her. She raised her voice and cried out, “Call the police!”
Guo’s cries stirred the server, who dashed into the kitchen. The customers inside the dining area, on the other hand, twisted around for a better look at the commotion.
Keeping a firm grip on Guo with his right hand, the man removed his hood. Then he slowly peeled off his mask and revealed his true face. A chorus of gasps filled the restaurant.
A ghastly face met their eyes, broken and twitching and covered with scars. The corners of his lips were split open to expose teeth that gleamed harsh white, forming a grotesque grin.
Guo let out a piercing cry. “Wh—who are you? Why are you doing this?”
At that moment, several employees burst through the kitchen doors into the dining area. At the front of the group was a pudgy man with a vicious look on his face and a broad cleaver in his hand. While the others stood frozen by the still swinging kitchen doors, he steeled himself and advanced. Brandishing the blade before him, he called out to the man.
“Hey! You heard what she said. Let Ms. Guo go!”
Rather than replying, the man at the table reached his left hand into a pocket of his trench coat.
The heavyset employee tensed, and held his cleaver before his chest. In a stern tone he demanded, “What’s that you’re reaching for? Put it down on the table right now!” He looked back and yelled, “Someone call the police!”
“I’m afraid I can’t exactly put this down.” The man lifted an object in his free hand.
“What the hell is that?” The employee swallowed, but his mouth was drier than sawdust.
“It’s a detonator. To be more precise, it’s a detonator for a bomb.” He peeled open his coat as he spoke. There was a plastic box clipped to his waist, and a lead wire ran from the box to the device in his hand. “If I so much as loosen my grip, the bomb will explode.”
Waves of panicked cries filled the restaurant, and people began scrambling over one another in an effort to run to the doors. The would-be hero holding the cleaver hesitated, but seconds later he joined the fleeing crowd.
It took less than half a minute for the restaurant to empty. Only Guo and the disfigured man remained inside, both nestled in the room’s far corner. She was frightened beyond words, lacking even the strength to struggle with the man. All she could do was cry out while choking with sobs, “Help…Someone help me.”
* * *
While Guo Meiran shivered in fear, Captain Han was leading a team of police into the Longyu Building. One member of the investigation team, however, was not among them.
Officer Liu Song, head of the SPU team, scanned the new arrivals. “Where’s Yin?” As far as he was concerned, finding Yin was just as important as carrying out the current operation.
“No idea,” Han said. “I haven’t seen him since the meeting, and he isn’t answering his phone.”
“He’s on the run,” Liu said, swelling with excitement. “This proves he’s connected to Xiong’s death! Why haven’t you sent someone to arrest him?”
“It isn’t up to you to decide if one of my officers is fleeing!” Han shouted. “Our primary task is to ensure Deng Hua’s safety. This order comes straight from the top. If you can’t get that through your head, I have full authorization to remove you from the task force.”
Mu walked over to Liu and pulled him aside. “Control yourself,” she whispered. Even though she didn’t fully understand why Liu was so anxious, she was sure that this was no time for anyone to lose sight of their objective.
Liu Song took a deep, steadying breath. He was certain Han was covering up for Yin, but he had to focus on what Pei said before he left: Don’t do anything until I get back.
In a way, Han was right—the most important mission was to protect Deng from being Eumenides’s next victim. Liu refocused on the task at hand. They had to stop Eumenides now.
Brother Hua had also arrived at the first-floor lobby. He relayed Deng’s earlier command to Han—the captain was to meet him inside the office, where they would discuss how to carry out their joint security arrangements.
Han’s cell phone rang just as he was preparing to enter the elevator. The screen told him that the call was coming from police headquarters. He answered.
“Captain,” said Zeng on the other line, “there’s been a new development.”
“Fill me in.”
“There’s a hostage situation at a restaurant called the Jade Garden on Xingcheng Road. The suspect is wearing an explosive, and he’s handcuffed himself to the owner.”
“Let the local police take care of it!” Han snapped. “You called to tell me that at a time like this? I don’t want to hear about anything that isn’t related to our case!”
“But it is related!” Zeng shouted. “The local officers stationed in the city’s development zone are already at the scene, and they’ve even made initial contact with the suspect. He has demands. He wants to see three people in particular.”
“Out with it, Zeng. Who does he want to see?”
“Mu, Pei, and Deng Hua,” he listed. “There’s more. The suspect…It’s the lone survivor from the warehouse explosion eighteen years ago. Huang Shaoping.”
After a tense few seconds of thought, Han replied with a new order. “Contact Mu and Pei immediately. Tell them to get to the restaurant as soon as possible.”
“What about Deng?”
“Out of the question,” Han replied without hesitation. “We’re supposed to be devoting all our manpower to his personal safety. How could we even consider sending him into such a dangerous situation?”
“I’ll go,” Hua interrupted. He had been standing next to the captain the entire time. “I can represent Mr. Deng in this matter.”