by Song Ying
Zhou’s response shocked them all.
“You have no idea what kind of person Hu Guohao was. He had many women, too many to count, actually.” His contempt was striking.
Xiaochuan and Yao exchanged looks.
Zhou went on to tell them about Hu Guohao’s unsavory sexual escapades. Hu, in a word, was a sexual predator. Whenever and wherever he saw a pretty woman, he had to have her; but once he was tired of her, he’d toss her aside and find another. With his enviable wealth and expansive nature, few women were immune to his charms.
“There’s a secret door in Hu’s office that leads to an opulent room. Supposedly for him to rest, it was actually his pleasure den. Ah-ying was the only one who knew about it.”
“Then how did you know about it?” Xiaochuan asked.
“He let it slip one night when he’d had too much to drink.”
“Does Zhu Mei-feng know about this?”
“No. She’s suffered enough already.”
Zhou then described the delicate relationship among Hu, Zhu, and himself. He’d known Zhu Mei-feng ten years earlier, when she was working at the White Rose Karaoke Dance Bar. Barely in her twenties and a graduate of the conservatory, she was smart and pretty—a dazzling beauty, in fact. As the top singer at White Rose, she had many rich suitors, but managed to keep her innocence even though she’d come from a poor family. Zhou had visited White Rose a few times, but had always admired her from a distance. The romance between them began in Nan’ao. Once, on a day tour to Nan’ao, she’d passed out while diving in Xichong. Zhou, who was fishing on the reef, dove in when he heard people calling for help. Having grown up by the ocean, he was an excellent swimmer who could stay underwater for several minutes. She was one step from being a mermaid when he fished her out of the water.
Though it had the flavor of a rescued “damsel in distress” tale, Zhou recounted the incident emotionally. They soon fell in love, and she became his best friend, since he was attached to his wife and told Zhu they could not marry; she was OK with that.
Two years later, Hu Guohao showed up and stole her away. Hu was generous with his money and a determined hunter. Each time he went to White Rose, he first sent over a large bouquet of white roses. At first she was not won over, having sensed a coarseness barely masked by his expansive demeanor, something typical of the nouveau riche. But then her mother experienced kidney failure and needed a large sum of money for a transplant. Having just suffered a tremendous business loss, Zhou was unable to help. Hu Guohao, the newest tycoon and Zhou’s biggest competitor, heard about Zhu’s problem and quietly paid for her mother’s operation. Then he made arrangements for her brother to study in Canada, following that up with a promise to marry her. Wanting her to be happy, Zhou decided to end the affair, even though Hu would not have been able to marry Zhu Mei-feng if not for his wealth. Ultimately, Zhu was the reason Zhou and Hu became partners in their ventures.
Zhu had been a good wife who’d given in to Hu’s every whim when first married. Later, when she discovered the truth about his many women, she stuck with him despite the deep hurt. She’d always considered him her savior and had tried to reason with him, but to no avail. Nothing she said or did could affect Hu’s natural inclinations, so she simply gave up and changed into a different person. She never confronted or argued with him, and turned a blind eye to his affairs. Perhaps out of a sense of guilt, Hu maintained a civil façade in public.
No one knew how much she suffered, until one day, a drunken Zhou revealed his undying love for her, and she fled back into his arms.
Zhou’s open admission of his relationship with Zhu Mei-feng sounded credible, and when he finished, he smiled and crossed his legs, as if having shed a heavy burden.
But Cui was not finished. “Hu Guohao drowned on the Nan’ao coast and his briefcase turned up there.” His gaze bored into Zhou’s face. “You were in Nan’ao that day, and you and he had clear and serious conflicts of interest. Now you’ve come clean regarding your affair with his wife, maybe it’s time to do the same in regard to the homicide.”
“You can suspect me if you want, but what evidence do you have?” Zhou rebutted calmly.
That was the point. The police had no evidence indicating that he had committed the murder, and Zhou knew it. On the other hand, while the interview did not unravel the mystery at Nan’ao, they had learned of Hu Guohao’s secret room, which could help them solve the case.
“We’ll stop here today. If you need to leave Shenzhen, either for business or personal reasons, please let us know,” Cui said.
“Sure.” Zhou stood up and shook Cui’s hand. “Good luck with your case.”
Yao Li handed Zhou the interview transcript, which he signed, and then turned and walked out.
“Quite a guy, huh,” Xiaochuan muttered.
“Hu Guohao first lost his wife, then his life,” Yao Li said with a sigh. “Too bad.”
Cui’s reaction? “The Landmark waters run deeper than we thought.”
— 3 —
The Landmark Building. Its glass curtain wall reflected a blinding light.
The police were back in Hu Guohao’s office to see if there was indeed a secret room. There were five officers this time, led by Cui Dajun, with Xiaochuan, Yao Li, and two evidence technicians with their tool kits. They were all in uniform; the formality so unsettled Ah-ying that she reacted with nervous caution.
“For the purpose of our investigation, we need to check Hu Guohao’s office,” Cui said, while Yao showed Ah-ying a search warrant.
“Mr. Hu’s old office now belongs to Ms. Zhu, our new Chairwoman of the Board.”
“Is she in?” Cui asked.
“Landmark’s affairs are being handled by the new CEO, Mr. Zhou. Elder Sister Zhu doesn’t come in very often.”
“Well, then, open the door for us. We’ll notify Ms. Zhu of the results of our search.”
Ah-ying took out a ring of keys and opened the door to the office. It looked the same as before, with hardly any trace of the new owner, a clear sign of Zhu Mei-feng’s absence. The African crocodile was coated with dust. Cui took a look around. The enlarged photo of the Landmark Building on the center wall was still dominant, as were the trophies and award certificates in the glass display case. The walls were covered with textured material so seamlessly applied there was no hint of a door anywhere. Cui tried but failed to find it, so he turned to Ah-ying.
“Would you please open Mr. Hu’s resting room?”
Caught by surprise, Ah-ying froze, looking unnaturally uncomfortable.
“We have credible evidence that there’s a secret room behind these walls,” Cui said.
Now that he’d forced her hand, she walked wordlessly to the glass case behind the desk and opened it. Then she moved the third trophy to reveal a small black button, which she touched gently; a hidden door in the wall soundlessly glided open.
Xiaochuan and Yao Li exchanged looks, barely able to conceal their surprise. Both were reminded of the secret code, “open sesame,” in The Arabian Nights. Mr. Hu was quite ingenious.
The police officers entered what seemed like the pleasure dome of an Arabian sultan. It was a windowless suite; the bedroom was nearly thirty square meters in size, with thick metallic red curtains making it seem airtight. On the wall hung deer heads and Burmese swords, which were infused with intrigue in the dim yellow light. The suite was furnished with dark imported furniture and an entertainment cabinet edged with curved lines. The Thai wood bed was two meters wide, and on the wall above it hung an embroidered picture of a lascivious, naked woman, à la Goya’s The Nude Maja. The room was more lavishly appointed than a five-star hotel suite, but lacked its elegance and style. The bathroom, too, was equipped with fancy imported fixtures and a spa tub. The gold-plated levers and faucets sparkled, giving it the patina of luxurious vulgarity.
What surprised the police were the mirrors that seemed to be everywhere—at the vanity, on the dresser, on the wall across from a desk, even behind the toilet—and all in carved fra
mes. There was even one beside the marble vanity, a round mirror with a metal frame and a swing arm. When his curiosity got the better of him, Xiaochuan walked over to take a look, only to see his own face, now enlarged and puffy, staring back at him with a foolish grin. Every line and every blemish showed. Obviously, Mr. Hu had often studied his face in this mirror.
The room was supplied with a Sony VCR and DVD player. The police looked around the bedroom and the bathroom, but found nothing of interest, except more lavish details. Cui then went to open the closet; it was filled with men’s casual clothes and gaudy women’s underwear, as well as several pairs of Lacoste swimming trunks. He pushed the hangers aside. There it was—a steel gray wall safe; above the chrome handle was a dial pad.
“Can you open this?” he asked Ah-ying.
“No,” Ah-ying said. “Only Mr. Hu knew the code.” She turned and walked out.
“Give it a try,” Cui said to one of the technicians, a lock specialist.
The technician opened his tool kit and took out a small box with an LCD screen. Then he donned a set of headphones, connected the electro heads, and worked on each number, turning a knob on the box. Soon with a beep, a number appeared on the screen. He repeated the process until he got all six numbers.
“There you are.”
Cui punched the six numbers one by one and the steel door swung open.
The top shelf of the safe was filled with cash totaling 600,000 RMB, 150,000 Hong Kong dollars, and 20,000 US dollars. A small drawer lined with blue velveteen held gold necklaces, rings, and other types of women’s jewelry. The technician took photos; Yao Li made notes of each item. The bottom shelf held four VCR tapes, a couple dozen DVDs, and dozens of Viagra pills. There was also a small wooden box that contained pictures of Hu and different women making love, each more graphic than the next. There was even a photo of group sex. They turned on the Sony player and put in a videotape. It turned out to be porn.
So Zhou Zhengxing had told the truth about Hu and all his women. Which meant that at least some of what Zhou told them was credible. But there was no clue as to how and why Hu had died.
“Who’d have thought that a high-ranking executive like Hu was actually a sex fiend,” Xiaochuan said indignantly.
“A sexual predator,” was Yao Li’s comment.
As they were about to leave the secret room, Xiaochuan spotted something. He noticed that a framed photograph of Greater Meisha beach appeared to be lopsided, as if someone had touched it but failed to put it back right. He walked over, took down the photo, and turned it over on the desk. Then he carefully removed the cardboard backing
There were two photos. One, fitted against the glass, was a Greater Meisha beach scene; the other was tucked between the beach photo and the cardboard backing. He turned it over to reveal Hu Guohao and Ah-ying in a very intimate pose with what looked like the beach behind them (there were sand and coconut palms). A blanket on the sand indicated that it might have been taken in the fall. Hu was wearing a red swimsuit, with his arm around her waist. In a black-and-white swimsuit, she was smiling at the camera.
“A lovely couple,” Yao said.
“We’ll take the photo with us,” Cui said.
Ah-ying should have gotten rid of the picture, but she hadn’t. Why? Maybe it had been there first and the beach photo was put in later to cover it up. But why hadn’t she removed or burned it?
Or maybe it was quite simple—she was too fond of being in the photo with Hu to part with it.
— 4 —
The Arrival Hall at Shenzhen’s Huangtian Airport. Nie Feng was returning to Chengdu. Xiaochuan was there to say good-bye.
He’d purchased a discounted ticket, a little more expensive than a hard seat on the train.
“Where did you go yesterday?” Xiaochuan asked, holding Nie’s bag for him.
“I went to Nan’ao. It’s a beautiful fishing village.”
“Too short a trip to take in the sights, I take it.”
“You’re right. I went to do a bit of investigating on my own,” Nie said. “Nan’ao remains an important coordinate on the map of the case.”
“Find anything interesting?”
“Not sure yet. But I did find something modestly worthwhile.”
“We searched Hu Guohao’s office yesterday afternoon. He had a secret room, his pleasure den.”
Nie was reminded of the evasive look on Ah-ying’s face when he asked her about a safe.
“Did Feng Xueying know about the secret room?”
“You mean Ah-ying, Hu’s personal assistant?”
“Right.”
“She did. In fact she opened the door for us,” Xiaochuan said. “We found a picture of her and Hu. He had his arm around her waist; they looked quite intimate.”
“I see,” Nie said. “She must have been more than just an assistant to him.”
“Do you think she was his—secret sweetheart?”
“What do you think?”
“Could be.” Xiaochuan nodded. “Otherwise, why would she be the only one who knew about the secret room?”
“You need to check her out,” Nie Feng said. “Oh, and besides Zhou Zhengxing, there’s another likely suspect.”
“Zhong Tao?”
“Yes.”
“But he had an alibi,” Xiaochuan said. “How do we shoot holes in that?”
“That’s the biggest puzzle of all,” Nie thought out loud, just as Xiaochuan’s cell rang.
“Hello? Who’s this?”
“Yao Li. Where are you?”
“We’re in the west wing of the Hall, waiting for his boarding pass.”
“Oh, I see you.”
They had no sooner hung up than she was there with them, breathing hard. Still in uniform, she was carrying a paper box tied with red twine. Her face was flushed from running, but that added a spirited glow.
“Nice to see you, Officer Yao,” Nie said.
“She came to see you off,” Xiaochuan explained.
“Thank you.” Nie was surprised. “But there’s no need. You’re so caught up with the cases.”
“This is from my father to your father.” She handed him the package.
“Er—” Nie was puzzled. “Your father—”
“Yao Zhenting. You met him once.” It was a very famous name.
“Ah, Superintendent Yao.” Now he knew who she was. It was a secret known only to those in the criminal squad. There were few female officers in the criminal division, but she had refused to take a cushy office job at the bureau level after graduation, insisting on working on the front lines.
Before he entered the gate area, Yao Li conveyed a message from Chief Wu.
“Chief Wu would like you to share your views with him if you think of something after your return.”
It was a friendly request and a sign of trust, which made him very happy. It also meant that the Shenzhen police had agreed to let him keep track of the case until it was solved.
“Chief Wu has spoken highly of your analysis of the case,” Yao added. “He says you’d be an outstanding police officer if you decided to change jobs.”
“I’m flattered.”
“I agree with his assessment.” Yao’s straightforward comment was underscored by the glow in her eyes as she gazed at him.
“So do I,” Xiaochuan joined in.
Nie scratched his head, a bit tongue-tied from the compliments.
“You have to work on the case, so why don’t you go on back?”
“All right. We’ll say good-bye here then.” They shook hands with him and left.
* * *
Zheng Yong was giving Team Leader Cui his report when Xiaochuan and Yao Li returned to the station.
“Sit down and listen to what he has to say,” Cui said. They took a seat.
“We checked out the car following Zhu Mei-feng,” Zheng said. “It belongs to a commercial investigative firm called Yinsida, a private detective agency that investigates employee loyalty, client credit standing, counterfeit
goods, men and their mistresses, extramarital affairs, locating whereabouts, things like that. I hear business is good.”
“So who’s checking up on Zhu Mei-feng?”
“The agency told me the client registered online and gave no name.”
“Bullshit,” Cui fumed. “What does online registration have to do with a name? They’re just trying to keep their client’s identity secret.”
“What do I do next?”
“Go back there,” Cui said in a steely voice, “and remind them that private investigation is illegal under our country’s current laws. They should be prepared for the consequences if they refuse to cooperate with the police.”
Cui was right. Zheng Yong went back to Yinsida and told them exactly what Cui had told him to say. He received an answer right away, and they were surprised to learn that the client who’d hired the PI was Hu Guohao’s personal assistant, Feng Xueying.
NINE
Fire! Fire! Fire!
— 1 —
Nie Feng arrived at home with his white tote and a travel bag.
The first to welcome him home was the ecstatic Yahoo. Overjoyed, the little poodle ran around the house with his shoe in its mouth, looking silly, almost like a wind-up dog. The maid, Xiao Ju, was also surprised but happy to see him.
“Brother Nie is home,” she announced
His grandma came up, smiling so broadly her mouth risked staying forever open.
“Aiya! How did you get so dark and skinny?”
“You look just like Louis Koo,” Xiao Ju joked.
“What’s a Louis Koo?” Grandma was not up on her Hong Kong entertainment.
“A Hong Kong movie star, a hunk. He has an incredible tan from swimming so much,” Nie Feng explained, bent down close to the old woman’s ear.
“So that makes you a hunk, too.”
“Impossible. Grandma, you know I’ve been ugly since the day I was born.”
That made Xiao Ju laugh; her face turned a bright red.
He took out gifts for everyone: for grandma, some little sweetheart cakes—the old lady had a sweet tooth—and for Xiao Ju, a necklace made of seashells.
“It’s so pretty. Thank you!” Xiao Ju gushed.