Skinner's Box (Fang Mu (Eastern Crimes))

by Lei Mi

  Fang Mu and Zheng Lin exchanged a look. Neither of them could contain his excitement. They knew one of them.

  The young man had been Tan Ji.

  "Hey, buddy, I'm gonna have to ask you to do me another favor," Fang Mu said to the foot cop in the backseat as he watched Tan Ji's taxi disappear in traffic. "Go in there and find out what illness Jiang Dexian reported and what medicine he was prescribed."

  The cop gave him a cheerful, "Yes, sir," and hopped out of the vehicle. He trotted across the street to the outpatient building.

  "Let's go find out whom in the hospital he might have been visiting," Fang Mu said to Zheng Lin. "Who knows? We might see another familiar face."

  After leaving the hospital Jiang Dexian had gone straight back to the law firm and worked in his office until closing time. After that he had headed straight home, where he stayed. He had neither come out nor had any visitors that night.

  As for the symptoms he had reported at the hospital, sure enough, he had said he had a headache. He had also told the doctor that lately he had been having trouble sleeping, and the medicine he had gotten at the pharmacy had been a simple sedative.

  Fang Mu and Zheng Lin had not turned up much on their end. Because Jiang Dexian had been planning on taking the elevator, they had decided to start their search on the third floor. They had pored over the register at every nursing station and checked the wards one by one, but had seen no one who looked suspicious or familiar. The only odd thing they had learned was that that very same day a patient had gone missing. This fact aroused Fang Mu's and Zheng Lin's interest to a new level.

  The patient's name was Li Ming; he had been taken to hospital the night before for a skull fracture and a cut from a sharp object in his left forearm that had caused both nerve and tendon damage. He had also suffered from a slight concussion. The doctor told them the patient had been male, 35-year-old, between 175 and 180 centimeters tall, and of average appearance, without any obvious distinguishing characteristics. But the patient had left an impression on the doctor, because when he checked in he had seemed quite emotionally unstable. Based on that, as well as the position of his head injury – the right side of his skull – and the angle of the injury on his left forearm, the doctor suspected the patient had caused the wounds himself.

  The hospital staff’s explanation for Li Ming's sudden disappearance was that he had probably not been able to afford his medical bill; he had still owed an arrearage of more than 3,000 yuan. The police checked the address that Li Ming had registered with, but found no one there by that name; apparently the patient had used a false name.

  Though they had been unable to track this person down, at the very least the investigation had led to a possible line of reasoning: This so-called Li Ming might know Jiang Dexian and Tan Ji, and he had been the person those two had been planning to visit when they happened to bump into each other. If this were true, then they must have some hidden secret between them that was important enough that both of them had abandoned their plans to visit the patient, and this "Li Ming" had checked himself out of the hospital without a moment's notice.

  There are only four people at the meeting this time: Miss Q, Mr. T, Luo Jiahai, and Mr. Z.

  Mr. Z has a solemn look about him; he is chain-smoking and darkly sipping tea. Mr. T's mood seems cold as well; hugging his shoulders, he sits still without saying a word.

  Miss Q lowers her head and plays with the hem of her sleeve, occasionally glancing from Mr. T to Mr. Z. Luo Jiahai stands away from them, parting the window curtains with his hand and staring outside.

  "I remember I said very clearly..." Mr. Z says, finally breaking the silence with a stern tone, "that we are not to have any contact with each other outside of our meetings. The tiniest slip-up could ruin everything."

  "I'm sorry," Miss Q says. Seeing that Mr. T is about to retort, she quickly adds, "It'll never happen again."

  "Now Mr. H has no choice but to recuperate in his home." Mr. Z seems to be getting angrier and angrier. "And Mr. J won't be able to take part in our plans for a while. This is all the result of you—"

  "We what?!" Mr. T says, unable to contain himself. "Q and I care about Mr. H a lot, and so does J. With H hurt so bad, was it wrong to be concerned about our friend?" he demands in a fiery tone.

  "Friend?" Mr. Z sneers. "We are nothing to each other but partners, here to help one another!"

  "Just partners?" Mr. T stands in agitation. "From the moment we learned about Skinner's Box, our fates have been inextricably entwined. If it weren't for that, there's no way we would've taken such a big risk to rescue Luo Jiahai!"

  "Z, at the time even you agreed to save L. In fact, you said you were our friend, through thick and thin," Miss Q says, her voice low and gentle. "We're all the same. We belong together, don't we?"

  Mr. Z hangs his head in silence. After a long moment, he turns to look at Luo Jiahai where he is still standing next to the window. Luo Jiahai continues stoically staring out the window, as if he has not heard a word.

  "Well, everyone needs to be more careful from now on, in everything," Mr. Z hisses. "Not only do we need to complete our plans and save ourselves, we need to protect ourselves, too." He sighs. "Actually, I was very displeased with our last operation; the location Mr. J chose was too risky."

  "As long as he thinks it was a good place, that's all that matters. Saving oneself is much more important than killing those bastards." Mr. T's tone softens. "Don't worry; we've done it this many times without any problems, haven't we?"

  Mr. Z smiles and waves his hands in the air. "Okay, okay, meeting's adjourned. Everyone be careful to leave one by one. T, you go first this time."

  After Mr. T leaves, Mr. Z looks at Luo Jiahai and says, "L, I need to talk to you about something."

  Still standing at the window like a statue, Luo Jiahai finally turns his head. "Yeah?"

  Mr. Z motions for Luo Jiahai to sit in the chair across from him. "The original plan was to take care of your thing first so that you could leave the city as soon as possible. But now Mr. H is in a pretty bad way. Would you mind if yours got pushed back a bit?"

  "Not at all," Luo Jiahai replies curtly.

  "Thank you for understanding," Mr. Z says, smiling amicably and leaning forward to clap Luo Jiahai on the shoulder. For a second Luo Jiahai seems about to dodge Mr. Z's hand out of something akin to instinct, but then he braces himself, straight-backed and holding his cup of tea in both hands.

  Miss Q glances at her watch. "Who should go next? Me or L? Or you?"

  "You go ahead," Mr. Z says. "I'll take L back in a little bit."

  Miss Q nods and is about to get up to go when Mr. Z says, "Q, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

  "Oh?" Miss Q says, a tense look on her face. "What's that?"

  Mr. Z seems in no hurry to ask his question. He studies Miss Q's face for a while, until it flushes red with awkwardness.

  "Q, are you and T together?"

  Fang Mu hung up the phone, asked Bian Ping for the rest of the day off, and drove over to Angel Hall.

  It was rare that Teacher Zhou called him on the telephone. The fact that he had called him at work this time made Fang Mu think something big had happened.

  As he turned onto the little street in front of Angel Hall, he noticed several limousines parked along the curb. A crowd of local residents were gathered around a group of well-dressed fat men and some men wearing crew cuts, leather jackets, and black slacks. It looked like there was a dispute of some sort going on. Fang Mu was in no mood to find out what it was, so he whizzed past the crowd and drove to the entrance to Angel Hall.

  After parking the car he bypassed an overly eager Erbao who wanted to play a finger-guessing game with him and trotted across the courtyard to the main building.

  Teacher Zhou and Sister Zhao were both there. They were sitting in Teacher Zhou's room, faces ashen. When he saw Fang Mu enter, Teacher Zhou waved him over to a chair. Sister Zhao turned her head and grunted a greeting.
r />   Fang Mu was taken aback. "What's happened?"

  Neither of them said anything, and that was even more perplexing. When he asked again, Teacher Zhou finally raised his head and began to speak, then stopped, frozen with his mouth half open.

  Sister Zhao frowned at Teacher Zhou and interrupted his silence. "Fang Mu, what exactly has been your motive in providing financial assistance to Liao Yafan, and to her alone?"

  Fang Mu scratched his head at Sister Zhao's heated tone. He threw a sideways glance at Teacher Zhou. "Why? What's this all about?"

  "Tell me!" Sister Zhao snapped as she stood and leveled her index finger at his nose. "What sort of vile intentions do you harbor toward that poor girl?"

  Fang Mu's surprise turned to annoyance. "Where is all this coming from?"

  "Little Zhao!" Teacher Zhou barked, raising a hand to restrain Sister Zhao. "You don't know what you're talking about, so don't go mouthing off like a machine gun!"

  Sister Zhao glared at Fang Mu icily a moment before sitting back in her chair with a disgruntled humph.

  "It's all right, Fang Mu. Relax." Teacher Zhou passed a cigarette to him. "Now… Have you given something to Yafan recently?"

  "I have."

  "See?" Sister Zhao cried indignantly. "See?" She leaped to her feet and pointed a trembling finger at Fang Mu. "He admits it."

  "What do I admit?" Fang Mu flared back. "To giving Liao Yafan those clothes and pants and school supplies? What? Are you saying you weren't there? Don't you remember Teacher Zhou telling you to break the stuff up so she doesn't get it all in one go?"

  Sister Zhao froze, jaw rigid and her finger still pointing motionless in the air.

  "Hey, hey, hey, Little Zhao, calm down. You're getting all fired up about something you don't even understand." Teacher Zhou reached into his pocket, withdrew a tiny heart-shaped locket lined with satin, and handed it to Fang Mu. "Did you give this to Yafan?"

  "What's this?" Fang Mu took the locket in bewilderment. As he opened it, his heart skipped a beat. Inside was a brightly shining diamond ring. "Who gave her this?" He stared at Teacher Zhou, completely at a loss. He looked back at Sister Zhao. "This was given to Liao Yafan?"

  Teacher Zhou studied Fang Mu's eyes, as if trying to decide whether or not he was lying. A few seconds later he turned to Sister Zhao. "I don't think it was him."

  Sister Zhao's eyes darted back and forth awkwardly. "Then…then who gave it to her?"

  "Where did you get it? Did Liao Yafan bring it to you?" Fang Mu asked.

  "I found it, underneath her pillow," she said.

  "Could she have found it outside somewhere?"

  "No," Teacher Zhou shook his head. "I know that girl. If she found something as precious as this, she would definitely bring it to me."

  "That's true," Sister Zhao interrupted. "Over the past few days Yafan has been collecting aluminum cans, and every penny she gets for them she gives to me, without fail."

  "Well, then who could have given her this?" Fang Mu frowned.

  Sister Zhao attempted a joke. "Well, Mr. Policeman, it's your turn to shine. Go ahead and lead the way; let's launch an investigation into the matter."

  Fang Mu's anger toward her still had not subsided, so he merely answered with a neutral, "Uh-huh."

  Sister Zhao, apparently feeling a bit apologetic, muttered, "I'll go check on the children," then left the room.

  As soon as she was out of earshot, Teacher Zhou whispered, "You sure you didn't give her that ring?"

  "Teacher Zhou!" Fang Mu felt the question was as unfair as it was ludicrous. "First of all, get real. Second of all, how would I ever afford something like that? I give a full third of my monthly salary to this place. How could I possibly have the disposable income to blow on a diamond ring?"

  "Okay, okay, let's drop it," Teacher Zhou said, laughing as he tried to make a truce sign with his hands. "I wasn't trying to imply anything; I just didn't like the idea of you giving her anything that was too expensive, that's all."

  "Hmph. That's not what Sister Zhao was thinking."

  "Pay no attention to her. Yafan's a girl. An old man like me can't get overly involved in her life, so Little Zhao overcompensates and mothers her to the point of suffocation. And she didn't know about the source of your relationship with Yafan. You can't blame someone for her ignorance, am I right?"

  Fang Mu smiled and nodded to show that he understood, but then his brow creased again. "So who could have given it to her?"

  "Right now there's no telling. Let's hope it all becomes clear when Yafan gets home and we ask her about it." Teacher Zhou paused. "It's not in the girl's nature to steal. My main worry is that she's made friends with an unsavory type."

  Fang Mu brooded for a while, and then remembered something. "How are things going with the demolition?"

  Mention of this seemed to depress Teacher Zhou even further. He stubbed his cigarette out in the ash tray and let out a long, sad sigh. "Not very smoothly." He massaged his temples with his fingers. "The developers aren't even going to give us as much compensation as we'd hoped. None of the neighbors are happy, either, and there's been a total communication breakdown between the two sides."

  Fang Mu could think of nothing to say that would console the old man. "Don't let yourself get too upset. Even if they go ahead with the demolition, it won't happen right away. It'll take them until next spring at the earliest just to get started."

  "I hope you're right. In any case, we've got to get through the winter first."

  Suddenly the sounds of a child crying and Sister Zhao's harsh expletives emanated from the courtyard. Teacher Zhou squinted out the window. Whatever he saw made him jump to his feet and hurry outside, leaving Fang Mu with no time to ask what was going on. He got up and followed.

  The courtyard was in utter chaos. The crowd of people Fang Mu had seen on the street on his way in was now standing inside the gates. Erbao was lying on the stone tiles, blood leaking out of one corner of his mouth. Sister Zhao was throwing a barrage of profanities against a man with a fat head and big ears, and several of the other children were chiming in as well. Everybody was shouting at once, making it impossible to figure out what any one person was saying.

  Teacher Zhou ran over and picked up Erbao. He had a split lip and his face was smeared with blood and saliva mingled with dirt. It was a pitiful sight.

  "What is going on here?" Teacher Zhou asked, his voice quavering a little as he did his best to control his outrage. "Why has this child been hit?"

  It turned out that moments before, Sister Zhao had been playing in the courtyard with several of the children, when the crowd of people had surged in through the gates without warning and begun pointing at the buildings of Angel Hall, saying things like, "This building will have to be demolished," "That tree will have to be cut down," and so on.

  When Sister Zhao asked them what they were doing, the crowd had completely ignored her, marched over to the garden, and begun trampling every plant in sight. Right at that moment, Erbao had run up to the fat-headed man – the mob's leader – and tried to get him to play the finger-guessing game with him. Alarmed by the child's filthy clothes, the fat-headed man had tried to back away, but had had nowhere to go. Cornered and in a panic, he had reached out and slapped Erbao and tripped him to the ground.

  The more Teacher Zhou heard, the more pronounced the scowl on his face grew. His fingers were shaking as he gently wiped Erbao's face.

  The throng of people apparently recognized Teacher Zhou, and one woman whispered something into the portly leader's ear. His face immediately transformed into a picture of smiling obsequiousness.

  "A misunderstanding; it's all just a misunderstanding." He reached a hand out to Teacher Zhou. "You must be Mr. Zhou Guoqing, am I right, sir?"

  Teacher Zhou ignored the outstretched hand. "Who are you?" he said coldly.

  A man standing next to him interrupted, as if on cue. "This is our boss, Vice Chairman Hou."

  Unperturbed, the rotund man lowered his hand
and said arrogantly, "Hou Guofu, Vice Chairman of the Board at Eternium Real Estate, at your service. Mr. Zhou, walk with me a moment."

  Without further ado, he grabbed Teacher Zhou by the shoulder and forced him to accompany him to the side.

  "Mr. Zhou, I know you are someone this rabble looks up to, and that makes you their leader in a way. At the last demolition and relocation meeting, you were the one who stood up and spoke for the neighborhood, am I right?" Without waiting for an answer, Hou Guofu lowered his voice and continued. "Let's cut the bull, shall we? What you want is money, am I right? I'll give you three times more relocation compensation money than anyone else is getting, and on top of that I'll give you another fifty grand in cash—if you just help me get these folks to settle down."

  Teacher Zhou plucked the man's hand from his shoulder and bellowed at him. "Demolition and relocation are regulated by laws and government policies! Do what you need to do, dammit, but do it by the book!"

  "How 'bout four times the compensation, plus eighty grand?"

  "Vice Chairman Hou, I think you should leave now." Teacher Zhou locked eyes on Hou Guofu's plump face. "But first I want you to apologize to my child!"

  Hou Guofu glanced at Erbao, his beady eyes menacing behind the gold rims of his glasses.

  "Old man, I've met plenty of troublemakers just like you." His face hardened. "If you think using a retarded kid to get yourself some sympathy votes is going to work, you're sadly mistaken. What is this place, anyway? A nest full of retards?"

  Unable to control himself any longer, Teacher Zhou threw a punch straight at Hou Guofu's fat face. The man tried to dodge, but was too slow; Teacher Zhou's knuckles caught him squarely on the chin and sent the gold-rimmed glasses flying. He was hauling back for another punch when a man in a leather jacket stepped up behind him and kicked him in the back of the knee.

  Teacher Zhou crumpled to the ground as a few more of the men in leather jackets surrounded him and began to curse, spit flying.

  "Stubborn old man! There's plenty more where that came from!"