Apricot's Revenge

by Song Ying

  “I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed,” Zhong said coldly. “I think you should put a stop to this right now. You know that blackmailers suffer a very unpleasant fate.”

  The conversation came to an end, followed by a soft, scratchy noise.

  “That didn’t sound like Feng Xueying,” Cui said.

  “She disguised her voice,” Xiaochuan said. “I think she used the mask we found in her purse when she withdrew the money, and also during the call. That way no one could tell it was her—”

  Cui raised his hand to stop him, as another conversation began, this time between two women.

  “This is she. And you are?”

  “Ma Yin. You’ve heard the name before?”

  “Ah—”

  “I want to thank you, Chairwoman Zhu, for the two hundred thousand yuan.”

  “What else do you want?”

  “You’re a smart woman, Chairwoman Zhu. We can call the whole thing off if you’ll wire another two hundred thousand.”

  “What? You want another two hundred thousand?”

  “You heard me.”

  “So how do you call the whole thing off?”

  “The day after the money is wired, you’ll receive all the negatives.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Who I am isn’t important. What’s important is your public image and reputation, Chairwoman Zhu.”

  “How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

  “I’m a woman, just like you. And I won’t go back on my word. But remember, you have three days.”

  The chief pushed the STOP button.

  “It’s clear now,” Cui said excitedly. “Feng Xueying was blackmailing Zhong Tao and Zhu Mei-feng, which led to her death. So it’s likely that either Zhong or Zhu killed Feng to shut her up.”

  “Zhong Tao sounded calm,” Xiaochuan said, “and didn’t seem like he would take such a drastic measure.”

  Yao wasn’t so sure. “You forget that he warned her that blackmailers usually suffer an unpleasant fate.”

  “That sounded more like friendly advice to me,” Xiaochuan said.

  “Warning or advice, it doesn’t matter. Zhong is under suspicion,” Cui interrupted the two officers. “Feng Xueying must have known some of Zhong’s secrets, in particular his involvement in Hu Guohao’s death.”

  “Right,” Xiaochuan agreed. “Otherwise, Hu’s assistant wouldn’t have blackmailed him for two hundred thousand.”

  “I obviously underestimated this woman.” Cui admitted his oversight.

  “But Zhu Mei-feng sounded weak and scared on the phone,” Yao said uncertainly. “Besides, she doesn’t look a like a killer to me.”

  “Let’s see if there’s anything else,” Cui said as he pushed the PLAY button.

  Another conversation between two women sounded after the scratchy noise.

  “Is this Chairwoman Zhu?” The same muffled voice.

  “Miss Ma Yin?”

  “Right. I want to remind you that the money has not arrived.”

  Cui and his officers exchanged knowing looks; things were clearing up.

  “Please give me two more days, will you?”

  “Are you playing games with me, Madam Chairwoman?”

  “Of course not. I gave you my word.”

  “All right, I’ll trust you this time. But remember, I must have the money by noon in two days. If not, you’ll have only yourself to blame when the scandal hits.”

  When the police went through Ah-ying’s office, they found a journal. It gave a clear picture of her thoughts and emotions.

  Feng Xueying had been one of Hu Guohao’s mistresses. She was also a loyal dog: for four years she’d given him her body and affection, had watched over the Board for him, and had served as his eyes and ears. Like the Sphinx crouched at the foot of the pyramid, she kept her eye on everyone in the company. Hu had promised that when the Tiandongba deal went through he would reward her with six hundred thousand yuan and send her to study in Australia. But before that promise could be honored, Hu died. She had searched every inch of his office and secret room, but nothing had turned up, no will, nothing.

  She felt she had been robbed, and could not swallow the disappointment. So she’d proceeded to blackmail people whose secrets she possessed. The secrets varied from person to person, but every phone call had worked to perfection. There was no talk of going to the police. She had been prepared to stop once she had six hundred thousand in hand; she would quit her job and fulfill Hu’s promise for her to study in Australia.

  There is an apt phrase in the famous novel Dream of the Red Chamber: “She was too smart for her own good, and in the end she paid with her life.” Feng Xueying’s greed and scheming led inevitably to her terrible end.

  “Ah-ying was one of Hu Guohao’s playthings, but wound up being buried along with him,” Xiaochuan said with a sigh.

  TEN

  Re-creation of the Crime Scene

  — 1 —

  They were getting close.

  The police discovered that the black VW Santana had been stolen.

  It was found abandoned at a garbage dump in the northern outskirts of the city. The last three digits matched those provided by the eyewitness; blood—Feng Xueying’s type—was visible on the dented hood, and one headlight was shattered. The car belonged to the owner of a computer company who had parked it outside the Jingtian Plaza Hotel at noon on July twentieth. He’d come out after lunch to find it missing and had reported the theft to the police. The police found no clues; technicians managed to lift a few blurred fingerprints from the door handle.

  Obviously Feng Xueying’s death was no accident.

  Based on Feng’s taped conversations with Zhong Tao and Zhu Mei-feng, the police had found a link to Hong Yiming’s murder; both Zhong and Zhu had been to Big East prior to Hong’s death, which meant they had both a motive and the opportunity to plant the poisoned candy. The police now believed that, in addition to Zhou Zhengxing, Zhong Tao and Zhu Mei-feng had to be considered suspects in the string of murders.

  The Y District Public Security Bureau put out an APB for Zhu Mei-feng, only to discover that she had vanished.

  On the night Feng Xueying was killed, Zhu boarded a train at Lo Wu bound for Hong Kong. The staff at Landmark told police that she’d called the office around five that afternoon to say she had to be away for a few days to care for her ailing mother. After that, no one in the company could reach her; she’d turned off her cell. So they called her mother, who, it turned out, wasn’t ill at all, and had no idea that her daughter had returned to Hong Kong. Chief Cui went directly to Landmark with Xiaochuan and Yao Li, but the CEO, Zhou Zhengxing, did not know where she was.

  Hu Guohao’s widow, Zhou Zhengxing’s mistress, and Landmark’s Chairwoman of the Board had fallen off the police’s radar screen.

  That same day, Zhong Tao boarded a plane for Chongqing. Zhou Zhengxing told the police that Zhong was scheduled to attend a Western China realty conference. Zhou had approved the leave, which would last about a week.

  In questioning Zhou in his office, Cui’s investigation was now able to reference the contents of the blackmail letters.

  “So now we know that Feng Xueying targeted more than Zhu Mei-feng and Zhong Tao.”

  “That’s true,” Zhou said. “I was the third victim.”

  “So you wired two hundred thousand into Ma Yin’s account.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you call the police?”

  “In all candor,” Zhou said as he took the letter out of his drawer and handed it to the policeman, “I didn’t want my wife to know.”

  Cui glanced at the letter and could not suppress a grin. The blackmailer had hit Zhou where it hurt. Xiaochuan and Yao exchanged a glance.

  “Well, I’ll take this with me,” Cui said to Zhou before leaving. “And I hope you’ll continue to cooperate with us.”

  * * *

  Bureau Chief Wu lit a cigarette as he listened impassively to Cui’s r
eport. He’d stopped “quitting smoking,” thanks to this series of murders, which had them all stumped.

  The blackmail letter to Zhou showed that Feng Xueying knew only about his affair with Zhu Mei-feng; it mentioned nothing about Hu’s murder. That could have meant one of two things: either Zhou and Zhu had nothing to do with Hu’s death, or they were involved but Feng did not know that. There was, of course, a third possibility: the blackmailer thought that threatening the two people to expose their affair was enough to get what she wanted.

  “What do you think?” Chief Wu asked Team Leader Cui and his two young officers.

  “Feng Xueying had an unusual relationship with Hu Guohao. She’d been his personal assistant for four years and his lover for some of that time, so she must have been privy to something. It didn’t sound like she was making it up when she threatened Zhong Tao over the phone with her knowledge of his involvement in Hu’s death,” Cui said.

  Chief Wu nodded in agreement. “Zhong could be our prime suspect in Hu’s death.”

  “Mr. Nie said early on that we shouldn’t overlook him,” Xiaochuan said.

  “Not that Western Sun again!” Cui said unhappily, which made Yao Li laugh.

  Chief Wu puffed away as he mulled things over. As the lingering smoke slowly dissipated in the air, his suspicions of Zhong increased. But how was Zhong involved in Hu’s death? Feng was no longer available for questioning, and the police had found no evidence of his involvement. What else lay behind the fog-enshrouded mystery?

  “Let’s take another look at Zhong’s alibi.” He stubbed out his cigarette.

  Xiaochuan and Yao Li repeated what they knew, but failed to poke a hole in Zhong’s alibi.

  “I agree that Zhong has to be considered a suspect in Hu’s death, but we can’t crack his alibi. We have nothing to dispute his explanation for that twenty-five-minute absence,” Yao said, stating the obvious.

  There were two entrances to the Lesser Meisha Resort, the main gate and a side door, both of which were guarded 24-7. Yao and Xiaochuan had shown Zhong Tao’s and Ding Lan’s photos to the four night-shift guards, who could easily recall pretty much any rare tourist who passed through either entrance after eleven o’clock at night. None of them recalled seeing Zhong or Ding on the night of the twenty-fourth. The resort cabins, on the other hand, were not monitored; once the tourists were given a key, they could come and go as they pleased, so there was no one to verify that Ding had helped Zhong back to his cabin to change clothes. She was the only one who knew exactly what had occurred during those twenty-five minutes.

  “That’s the blind spot in Hu’s murder case.” Chief Wu banged his knuckles against the desk. Cui nodded in agreement.

  “We were surprised to see Ding Lan at Hu’s memorial,” he said. “And she is Zhong’s alibi for the twenty-five minutes he was away. Something is fishy here.”

  “Mr. Nie sent me an e-mail a few days ago,” Xiaochuan said, looking somber. “He said he’d discovered that Ding Lan and Zhong Tao belonged to the same zhiqing regiment of the Yunnan Construction Corps back then, and that she’s been in love with him ever since. Mr. Nie stressed that she may have provided a false alibi for Zhong. He asked me to tell you both that Zhong’s absence is highly suspicious, and could be the key to unlocking the case, once we determine exactly what occurred during those twenty-five minutes.”

  “He has a point there.” Chief Wu nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Cui glared at Xiaochuan.

  “Didn’t you say you don’t have time to listen to nonsense from Western Sun?”

  Ignoring him, Cui continued: “Let’s assume that Ding provided a false alibi. Then where did they go during those twenty-five minutes? And what could they have possibly done? I did a rough calculation. It takes three minutes to walk from the barbecue grounds to the main entrance and four to five to the cabin, which means ten minutes for a round trip. If they stopped for five or six minutes, that would give them a little more than ten minutes left. They’d have to have grown wings to make it to Nan’ao and back in that amount of time.”

  No one laughed at the image of wings on their suspects. The air in the room was heavy, suffocating even, as they sat there, pondering the mystery.

  — 2 —

  Nie Feng’s study in the Zhiyuan Apartment Building. It was a sweltering summer night. Nie was wearing a sleeveless top, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his Lenovo laptop. He felt good, having just finished writing up his interview with the TV magnate, when he saw he had new mail. It was a message from Xiaochuan.

  His eyes lit up, thinking it must be about new developments in the Shenzhen cases. He hit ENTER and Xiaochuan’s e-mail leaped onto his screen.

  Dear Nie Feng,

  How’s everything? It’s been several days since I received your latest e-mail. There’s been a development in the case: on July 20 Feng Xueying was fatally struck by a car. Our investigation shows that it was no accident.

  We found conversations between her and Zhong Tao and Zhu Mei-feng on a tape she made. Zhong and Zhu could well be involved in Hong Yiming’s murder, since both had been to Hong’s office and had a motive and the opportunity to plant the poisoned candy. We consider them suspects in all three murders—Hu, Hong, and Feng.

  Zhu Mei-feng has fled to Hong Kong and we’re looking for her.

  Our biggest problem is Zhong’s alibi. We’ve checked and rechecked those twenty-five minutes, but haven’t come up with anything. As you know, Lesser Meisha Resort has two ticket entrances, the main gate in the west and a side door to the east. They’re both guarded twenty-four hours a day. Few tourists go through the gates after 11:00 at night, so the guards would remember if Zhong and Ding passed through between 11:05 and 11:30. When we showed Zhong’s and Ding’s pictures to all the guards on duty that night, no one recalled seeing them.

  We also checked the resort cabin, but found nothing worth noting.

  All this means that our investigation into Zhong’s role has reached a dead end. Chief Wu calls those twenty-five minutes our blind spot. Everyone, including Yao Li and me, are frustrated. We don’t know if we’ll ever solve the cases.

  I’ll stop my depressing note here.

  Please give Academy President Nie my best.

  Xiaochuan (22/07)

  Nie stared at the screen as he mulled over what he’d just read.

  It was stuffy in the room, which was penetrated by loud music from a nearby club, but he focused on cracking Zhong’s alibi. Chief Wu was right about the twenty-five minutes being the blind spot in Hu’s murder. It was the key to solving the case. So he opened to a page in his interview book and stared at the triangle on the Dapeng Bay map, which he’d drawn while attending the case meeting.

  It was a rough sketch of a narrow triangle—the three points being Greater Meisha, Lesser Meisha, and Nan’ao. Greater and Lesser Meisha formed the short bottom line of the triangle, the sharp acute angle reached a point in the lower right, at Nan’ao in southeast.

  The more he looked at it, the greater his sense that there was something strange or abnormal about the shape, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It just looked unnatural, forced even. The bottom line was too short, while the acute angle was too sharp, presenting the image of a shard of broken glass, or a dagger pointing to the lower right, as if at some arcane truth.

  He took out a pen and began to write.

  Point 1: Greater Meisha (around 7 on the evening of June 24, Hu Guohao disappears outside Seaview Hotel)

  Point 2: Lesser Meisha (around 6 in the morning of June 25, Hu’s body found by the pier)

  Point 3: Nan’ao (the afternoon of June 30, Hu’s briefcase shows up; red tide is found in the water in which Hu drowned)

  He turned to the previous page to review his notes from the meeting.

  June 30, afternoon, the Criminal Division Office of the Y District Public Security Bureau.

  Questions regarding Hu Guohao’s death:

  One, why did Hu Guohao go to Na
n’ao? Was he summoned there by that mysterious phone call or did he suddenly decide to go for a swim there?—the former is more likely.

  Second, how did he get there? By bus, taxi, or a car sent to Greater Meisha by Zhou Zhengxing?—need to follow up on this.

  Third, how did Hu drown in Nan’ao? Did he suffer a heart attack while swimming? Did Zhou murder him while they were swimming together?

  Fourth, how did Hu’s body wash up on the beach at Lesser Meisha? If he drowned while swimming in Nan’ao, the body could not have drifted twenty km to Lesser Meisha. Highly unlikely that Hu would suddenly decide to swim across the Dapeng Bay and drown near Lesser Meisha when he overextended himself.

  So was his body taken there by car? by boat?

  It takes an hour to drive from Lesser Meisha to Nan’ao on the mountain road, making it impossible to get there and back in twenty-five minutes. And it would take a speedboat at least an hour and a half to get there by the shortest route. So Zhou Zhengxing replaces Zhong Tao as the prime suspect.

  He looked up from his notes and stared out the window, where the clear summer evening sky sparkled with stars. Then his eyes lit up when a question formed in his head.

  What they had talked about (including the four questions) at the meeting was based on the premise that Hu had gone to Nan’ao and drowned there. That was based on two pieces of “ironclad evidence”: Nan’ao’s algae-infested water was found in Hu’s body, and his briefcase turned up at Nan’ao Elementary School.

  But these leads led nowhere, and the police were faced with a riddle: how had Hu’s body wound up at Lesser Meisha? No one in Nan’ao had seen Hu on June twenty-fourth from that afternoon till midnight; the police had checked all the places he could have visited, including Nan’ao Elementary School, Nan’ao Port, all the restaurants and teahouses and seaside swimming pools. Nie’s own quick visit to Nan’ao before returning to Chengdu had turned up “witnesses” who proved otherwise.

  So what exactly was going on here?

  A hunch sent him back to the map, where he studied the narrow triangle he’d drawn. Suddenly he sensed that the triangle was pointing at something, some place actually, and that place was Nan’ao. Things were beginning to make sense.