by Song Ying
They walked into the conference room, where the squad was gathered.
Cui introduced Nie. “This is Comrade Nie Feng, a reporter from Western Sun. He’s here to attend our discussions, with the Propaganda Section of the Provincial Security Bureau as the intermediary. Let’s welcome him.”
“It’s Western Sunshine.” Xiaochuan corrected Cui softly, but was ignored.
“All right,” Cui said. Nie Feng nodded to each person around the table. No welcoming applause, though a few officers gazed at him curiously. Xiaochuan was the only one who wore a welcoming smile, while Yao Li cast an admiring glance.
“I’m here to benefit from the heroic spirit of the police. Much obliged.” He gave them another one of his signature bows.
Cui laughed unhappily to himself, but quickly came up with a solution. He hadn’t expected Nie to take him up on it when he asked for a letter from superiors. Solving a case was nothing like writing a story; it was not something to take lightly, and he would never allow a dickhead from “Western Sun” to muddy up his case. The crime squad enjoyed a strong sense of honor and team spirit. There was also a strict unwritten rule: while they might all be police officers, each case had its territorial boundaries, and if a case was outside one’s jurisdiction, no one, not even a journalist from the boondocks, would be allowed to participate or tag along during the investigation. Police in criminal cases shunned two types of people: lawyers, who would go to any length to get information that would help their clients; and reporters, who were known to make groundless charges and, with relentless questions, stir up so much trouble it would either put the police on the defensive or make them appear incompetent.
As a responsible commanding officer, Cui was forced to abide by his superior’s wishes and treat the unreasonable reporter with deference, but within limits. Best to deal with him as a spectator, or to put it more nicely, an observer. He would not be permitted to participate in any real investigative or background work. The good thing was, he wouldn’t be there long.
So Cui came up with some nice words and put Nie Feng in his rightful place.
“Mr. Nie is welcome to interact with our squad. This is a complex case, and he can attend our meetings to get firsthand knowledge of how we go about solving a case. But in order to maintain security and secrecy, he may not participate in the actual investigation. Do you have anything to add, Chief Wu?”
“That sounds fine. Just cooperate with him to the best of your ability.”
A detectable look of disappointment flickered on Xiaochuan’s face.
But Nie Feng did not seem to mind. He’d once hoped to be a police intern, and maybe being a tag-along reporter was close enough.
“Xiaochuan, you’ll be our liaison with Mr. Nie. Now, let’s get down to business,” Cui said.
Nie sat down as the officers gave their reports.
Yao Li reported on their surveillance of Zhou Zhengxing. After leaving the Guanlan Lake Golf Club, he’d had lunch at a roadside restaurant in town, after which he’d been driven back downtown. Xiaochuan had kept close enough to see him make a call in the car and then lean back in his seat and doze off. The Audi eventually returned to the Landmark Building, where he went straight to his office.
“We didn’t see anything unusual,” Xiaochuan added.
“Was there anything special about the forum?” Chief Wu asked.
“All real estate big shots,” Xiaochuan replied. “Hong Yiming from Big East gave a speech. Looks like he’ll finally get his hands on the Tiandongba land he’s salivated over for so long.”
Nie Feng listened attentively.
“Let’s put that aside,” Chief Wu said, “and focus on Hu Guohao’s death.”
The meeting shifted gears to analyze what lay behind the fact that Hu had apparently died in Nan’ao, which generated several suspicious points.
First, why had Hu gone to Nan’ao? Had he been lured there by that mysterious phone call, or had he suddenly decided to go swimming in Nan’ao? The former seemed more likely. What if it was Zhou Zhengxing who had phoned Hu, using some excuse to invite Hu to his hometown for a swim or a brief get-together? For instance, he could have asked Hu to attend the computer-donation ceremony. Hu would likely have attended.
Second, how had Hu gotten there? Had he taken the bus or a taxi, or had Zhou sent a car to Greater Meisha for him? This had to be checked.
Third, how had Hu drowned in Nan’ao? Had he suffered a heart attack while swimming? Or had Zhou been swimming with him and drowned him?
Fourth, how had Hu’s body turned up at the Lesser Meisha Pier? If it had been an accidental drowning in Nan’ao, his body could not have drifted north to Lesser Meisha, some thirty kilometers away. Could it be that Hu impulsively decided to swim across Dapeng Bay, from Nan’ao back to Greater Meisha, but had made it only as far as Lesser Meisha before drowning? Could the apprehension he felt after receiving the phone call have made the idea of swimming across the bay appealing?
As they talked, Nie Feng noted everything down in his notebook. The investigation now seemed focused on Nan’ao, which appeared to be the most logical direction, based upon the algae found in Hu’s body. It was a major breakthrough.
But what lay behind the fact of the algae?
Zhong Tao was obviously no longer a suspect. It would take an hour to drive from Lesser Meisha on a winding mountain road to Nan’ao, and he could not possibly have made the trip in twenty-five minutes.
Zhou Zhengxing, on the other, was a prime suspect, but they had yet to find proof.
Nie’s train of thought was interrupted when Chief Wu spoke up.
“Let’s think about why Hu’s body showed up at Lesser Meisha beach.”
“The perpetrator was obviously trying to mislead us by making Lesser Meisha the crime scene while providing himself with an alibi,” Cui said.
“What have you found about boats in Greater and Lesser Meisha?”
“Greater Meisha has twenty rental boats, and Lesser Meisha fifteen. The logbooks show no boats went out on the night of the twenty-fourth.”
“They normally tie up the boats at eleven o’clock at night.”
Someone pointed out that Zhou Zhengxing’s hometown, Shuitou Village, was only two kilometers from Nan’ao, and that it would have been easy to transport the body from the port at Nan’ao.
“Besides, there are over a hundred motorboats fishermen use to take tourists on sightseeing tours.”
“But there are patrol boats at night.”
“Not over the whole area, though,” Chief Wu said. “He could have driven to a spot near Lesser Meisha and then used a boat.”
“Finally we’ve got our hands on the tail of that sly fox, Zhou Zhengxing!” Cui said harshly. “Now we must double our efforts; we have to follow his every move.”
His eagerness was infectious, getting others so worked up that the room was abuzz with spirited talk.
Xiaochuan had his eye on Nie Feng, who was listening carefully, head down as he sketched something in his notebook. Xiaochuan looked over to see that Nie had drawn a diagram with three dots—Greater Meisha, Lesser Meisha, and Nan’ao—connected by bold lines to form a long narrow triangle. Nie’s gaze was fixed on his drawing, a puzzled look on his face, like a student stuck on an algebra problem.
Yao Li talked about Zhou’s performance at the forum in Guanlan Lake, describing him as an entrepreneur and successful leader who appeared to have a social conscience. His résumé checked out fine—born into a poor fisherman’s family, he was a hard worker who welcomed challenges, and a renowned filial son, with no criminal record. The low-level employees at Landmark all thought highly of him.
“It could be a front.”
“If so, then he’s a superb actor.”
The two sides would not budge from their assessments; Cui’s cell phone rang as they argued back and forth.
“Hello? Yes? That’s me. Oh, when? I’ll be right there.”
Cui was visibly elated.
“That was Lao G
uan from the Nan’ao police station. They’ve found Hu’s briefcase at Nan’ao Elementary School.”
Cheers erupted.
Just when they thought they’d reached a dead end, a critical clue from the police station in Nan’ao could turn the case around. The squad leader left for Nan’ao with Xiaochuan and Yao Li after telling Xiao Zheng to “show Nie Feng to Lao Kun’s desk so he can catch up on some reading.”
Lao Kun, Cui’s second in command, was on vacation. His desk was next to the air-conditioner, making the area tolerable in the middle of summer.
Zheng Yong brought over an office chair for Nie Feng, who thanked him and sat down.
— 3 —
Cui, Xiaochuan, and Yao Li raced to the Nan’ao police station, where the station head, Lao Guan, and two militiamen were waiting. After a brief greeting, Lao Guan told them what had happened.
Nan’ao Elementary, located in the western part of town, had new classroom buildings. The main brick building was six stories high and shaped like an open book, with a balcony decorated with blue stripes, giving it a fresh, lively appearance. Slogans were painted in red on each side of the third floor wall: LOVE THE COUNTRY, LOVE THE PEOPLE, AND LOVE LABOR, and LOVE SCIENCE AND LOVE SOCIALISM. The school’s excellent teachers placed equal emphasis on the students’ moral, intellectual, and physical development.
Over nine hundred students were enrolled in the school, a number of them children from the fishing villages. The campus was neat and clean, with lush green grass and an oval track surrounding the playground, which included a large soccer field.
That afternoon, the Section 2 fifth graders had just finished PE, and some of the children had stayed behind to play soccer. One of them, a chubby boy nicknamed Lai Zhai, had kicked the ball into the weeds outside the field. He ran over to pick it up and spotted a black object in the grass by a ditch. It was a briefcase, which he turned over to his PE teacher.
When the teacher opened the briefcase and saw what was inside, he immediately called the police.
Now the station head took the briefcase out of a drawer and placed it on his desk. Cui picked it up and held it as if he’d stumbled on hidden treasure. It was a black leather case, embossed with the Lacoste logo. There was some dirt on the outside. Cui put on his gloves before unzipping it to check the contents, which included Hu Guohao’s ID, a credit card, a thick wad of hundred-yuan notes, and a notebook. He also found several colorfully wrapped condoms and two light blue, diamond-shaped pills in the side pocket.
Cui dumped everything onto the desk. The credit card was a Great Wall card, and the cash totaled nine thousand yuan. As for the two blue pills, they were each encased in clear plastic covered in tin foil. Fancy packaging.
“What are these?” Xiaochuan stared at the pills curiously, to which Cui rewarded him with a meaningful look.
“It’s Viagra, what we call Towering Brother.”
“Oh!” His first encounter with the pills he’d heard so much about. He made a face.
But Hu’s cell phone was missing.
The notebook was a common hardcover type that served as a day planner and an address book. Cui thumbed through the pages and found a piece of paper folded four times. He unfolded it and saw a strange symbol and a string of numbers.
The symbol, in red, resembled the character for mountain, “山,” sketched out with a thick bubble brush. Underneath the symbol were eight digits: 42602791.
“What does that ‘red mountain’ mean?” Yao Li wondered.
“Hm, ‘red mountain’?” Cui studied the paper, but had no answer.
Xiaochuan had a sudden inspiration: it looked like the scratch marks on Hu Guohao’s chest.
After checking out the contents of Hu’s briefcase, the station head took them to the school to examine the spot where it was found. The playground was deserted, since school was out by then. A metal sculpture of a soaring bird stood in front of the classroom building, but all Cui could see was the fleeting image of Zhou Zhengxing’s face.
How did Hu Guohao’s briefcase wind up on an elementary school playground?
Nothing valuable was missing, which meant that, if he had been attacked, the perpetrator was not interested in his money.
Another major find: the “treasures” in the briefcase indicated that he had sexual encounters each time he came to Greater Meisha—but with whom? His mistress, secret sweetheart, girls provided by the hotel, or call girls? Could the mystery phone call have come from a prostitute?
On their way out of the school, Cui placed a call to Chief Wu to tell him what they’d found.
* * *
The police cast a wide net that night, interviewing all the prostitutes rounded up at Lesser Meisha a few days earlier.
A half dozen scantily dressed girls with luminous skin were being held in a room at the police station. They earned tips by accompanying men to swim in the ocean, and were generally of a higher class than those who worked out of salons. Yao Li and Xiaochuan showed them Hu Guohao’s picture, but none of them recognized him.
So Yao Li and Xiaochuan returned to the Seaview Hotel, where they were surprised to see Miss Bai in an unusual state.
Staff members told them that she seemed emotionally unstable and had been acting strange since hearing the news of Hu’s death. One day, one of her coworkers found her in the ladies room, alone, with a tear-streaked face. Another time she had made a mistake on a guest’s bill.
So Cui and Yao met with her in the hotel’s lobby bar.
A pretty woman with a round face and big eyes, she was dressed like a professional woman, in an ocean-blue dress. She sat down stiffly at a table. She did not look good.
“We want to know more about Hu Guohao,” Cui began. “As a witness, we need you to tell us everything you know, to help us solve this case.”
Miss Bai nodded, biting her lip.
“Don’t worry,” Yao said, “we’re not interested in exposing any personal secrets.”
Yao Li was able to coax what happened out of Miss Bai.
Hu had arranged to meet her on the night of the twenty-fourth in suite 204, but he never returned to the hotel. At first she thought he’d met another woman, but in the past he’d always called with an excuse whenever he missed one of their rendezvous. This time he didn’t. So she began to worry, and didn’t learn that he had died until the following morning, when Xiaochuan and Yao Li came to check out the hotel. She hadn’t told the police about her and Hu because the hotel had strict rules against employees being intimate with guests. She would be fired if her relationship with Hu were exposed.
Cui agreed to keep the affair under wraps.
The twenty-two-year-old Miss Bai was an elegant young woman and a highly competent manager. Originally from Hunan, she was a graduate of the Changsha Tourism School. Hu had been attracted to her gentle and charming personality. In Shenzhen, it did not take much to seduce a girl. Girls from the countryside, in particular, who worked in hotels and restaurants, required a great deal of self-control to resist the temptations of the big city. To them, the dapper rich men who were generous with their money were idols and heroes. A seafood feast and a gold necklace were all it took to get the girls into bed within days. As for the professional women with higher educational or cultural backgrounds, “love” would be the key to their hearts, even if the so-called “love” was nothing but sweet talk piled on top of jewelry, fashionable clothes, and other objects. Rumor had it that after the owner of a fine-food restaurant in Zhongshan hired seven or eight pretty waitresses, his business took off. A rich friend, a frequent dinner guest, told him in private, “I’ve tried all the girls you hired over the last two months. They’re very good.” The owner was shocked.
It was hard to say if Hu Guohao belonged to that category, but it was clear that he was a player. The police found his fingerprints on both the condoms and the Viagra packaging.
“Did Hu Guohao use Viagra when he made love to you?” Cui asked bluntly.
Miss Bai nodded, and said shyly, “H
e had a bit of the—”
“The what?”
“A bit of—little brother problem of raising his head.”
“I see,” Cui said somewhat unnecessarily.
Feeling a bit awkward, Yao Li had to stop herself from giggling.
“So he took the pills half an hour beforehand.”
“How many did he take each time?”
“Two.”
No trace of Viagra had been found during Hu’s autopsy, which meant that he had yet to take the two pills on the evening of the twenty-fourth. From what Miss Bai told them, Hu was not the type to be tempted by call girls walking the beach.
So the phone call must have been extremely important. But what was it about, and who had placed the call? Those remained the biggest mysteries.
On the other hand, finding Hu’s long-lost briefcase was a breakthrough. Now they could be sure that Nan’ao was where the crime had happened. Furthermore, all the evidence pointed to Zhou Zhengxing, now their number one suspect.
Team Leader Cui ordered round-the-clock surveillance of Zhou.
— 4 —
The Shenzhen Funeral Home. It was a gloomy, drizzly day. Inside, a solemn and yet extravagant memorial for Hu Guohao was about to begin.
Nie Feng was running late. When he leaped out of the taxi, the final viewing of the body was nearly under way. Xiaochuan had called to tell him that the memorial would begin at ten in the morning, with the suggestion that, since many of Shenzhen’s VIPs would be in attendance, he might want to come and observe the goings-on.
The ceremony was held in a spacious memorial hall with a green glazed-tile roof. Cars were lined up on both sides of the flagstone square outside the hall. Nie walked up the green-carpeted stone stairs to the entrance, where two flower baskets stood atop a sign-in table covered with a dark velvet cloth. The signature book was surrounded by bottles of mineral water. To the left of the table, a simple announcement on a sheet of yellow paper—HU GUOHAO MEMORIAL—rested on a chrome stand.
The memorial began just as Nie Feng stepped in, as if it had been delayed for his sake.
A mistress of ceremony announced:
“Relatives of the deceased, please stand in the front row.”