by Lei Mi
After further investigation, they discovered the number belonged to a certain Qu Rui. She was female, 25 years of age, of Han ethnicity, and had a job as an assistant manager in the marketing department of a foreign-owned enterprise. In other words, a white-collar worker. The contents of the SMS messages between her phone and that of Tan Ji made it clear that the two were in a relationship together.
Because of Jiang Dexian's behavior at the hospital, it was possible that he was already aware that he was being monitored by the police. If so, this could prove quite a headache, for he was an experienced attorney with plenty of resources at his command, and not just financial. He likely knew all the ins and outs of how the police operated; if he knew he was being watched, it would be very hard to successfully investigate him. And if there was indeed a connection between him and Tan Ji, then it went to reason that Tan Ji, too, would attempt to evade detection and that, of course, would hinder the investigation even more. This was all the reason the police had needed to decide to change strategies and focus almost exclusively on clandestine tactics such as monitoring the two men's cell phones.
The decision had been made grudgingly, however, because with it came a greater risk that any offline movements of the two suspects could slip completely under the radar. It was also possible, of course, that both of them could be using other phones to contact each other, but without any evidence of that to go on, all the police could do was sit tight and see what happened.
The new strategy did not prove entirely fruitless, though. After monitoring both men's phones for a few days, detectives discovered a sudden stop in calls and text messages between Tan Ji and Qu Rui. Communication between the two seemed to have ceased the day after Tian Ji and Jiang Dexian had been seen together in the Provincial Hospital. This fact set off an alarm in Fang Mu's head; if Qu Rui were nothing more than Tan Ji's girlfriend and had nothing to do with the case, then why would Tan Ji need to break off contact with her that day? Why that day in particular? And so logic dictated that Qu Rui might also be a suspect.
Bian Ping reminded Fang Mu that all of this could be mere coincidence; perhaps the two lovers had just happened to break it off the day after Tan Ji and Jiang Dexian had been seen in the hospital. These days relationships between young people tended to be short-lived, after all. Nonetheless, Fang Mu decided to have Qu Rui followed and put a dedicated pair of officers on her tail. For the first few days, she did nothing out of the ordinary. On the fifth day, a Saturday, Qu Rui got off work and took a taxi to a large shopping center. While she was in the ladies' underwear department browsing the bra selection, the male detectives, afraid they would stick out like sore thumbs there, had to back off. They immediately called in a request for a female plainclothes officer to take over. While they were waiting for her to arrive, however, Qu Rui disappeared—and her cell phone had either been turned off or had lost its charge, so they had no way of finding her again. Fang Mu would not give up easily, however, so he quickly sent another plainclothes over to stake out Qu Rui's apartment building disguised as a cleaning lady.
Three days later she found a torn-up credit card receipt from a restaurant in Qu Rui's garbage; from the amount of food that had been ordered, it was clear that Qu Rui had not been eating alone. Fang Mu took a photograph of Tan Ji over to the restaurant that had issued the receipt, and lucked out. A waitress there confirmed that Tan Ji and Qu Rui had eaten there that very same day.
This meant Tan Ji and Qu Rui were maintaining contact, and based on their apparently secretive rendezvous, were very probably aware that the police had been monitoring them. It seemed that Qu Rui could be involved in something illegal after all.
The case was getting more and more interesting.
Snow was falling. It was the first of winter in the northern city; a light snow, just enough to coat the streets with a thin dusting. Every time a car passed, swaths of the pure white were obliterated completely as its tires picked up the snowflakes, ground them in with the wet dust of the asphalt, and left trails of dark melting slush behind it.
Luo Jiahai stared out the window quietly, his eyes listless.
Shen Xiang once told him that it had been snowing on the day she was born, which was why she had loved the color white all her life. Officer Fang was correct; people who like white often yearn for purity. Shen Xiang had been such a person. And indeed, it seemed to Luo Jiahai that the slightest contact with even a tiny particle of filth would cause those elegant snowflakes, beautiful and delicate as they drifted outside the window, to perish.
Why did some people have the heart to run over that spotlessly white snow?
Why did some people have the heart to harm such a cute, innocent girl?
Luo Jiahai's hands clenched slowly, drawing tighter and tighter until they were fists. Every time he thought of such things he felt an aching sorrow accompanied by a virulent hatred. It was all that man's fault! That man was the one who had destroyed his Shen Xiang!
Luo Jiahai regretted at having agreed with Mr. Z to postpone his affair. He spent a large part of every day pacing back and forth in the tiny room, the hatred in him swelling like a balloon, pressing at his chest cavity harder and harder until he could not breath. Every time he left the place to go to the little roadside diner, the pressure eased a little. But after seeing how relieved and satisfied Miss Q and Mr. J had been after their turns, he felt he could not wait any longer. Avenging Shen Xiang was the only reason he was still in this place—and on this earth, for that matter. But when would that day come?
Abruptly, a set of knuckles rapped against the door. Luo Jiahai listened, heart pounding, not relaxing until he had heard the entirety of the secret knock sequence. It was probably Mr. T bringing something to eat, he thought.
But when he opened the door, he found Mr. Z standing there instead. Mr. Z squinted at him, a vague smile twisting one corner of his mouth. Then he stepped into the room and motioned for Luo Jiahai to close the door quickly.
"Where's Mr. T?" Luo Jiahai asked uneasily as he watched Mr. Z place two large bags full of something on the table.
"He won't be able to come again for the time being." Mr. Z tossed a cigarette at Luo Jiahai and raised his eyebrows. "Mr. T told me you started smoking."
Luo Jiahai's eyes never left Mr. Z's face as he deftly caught the cigarette with one hand. "What's happened?"
"The cops might have him in their sights." A shadow darkened his features. "He and Q, the idiots, have been seeing each other. Who knows; she might be compromised, too."
"What about Mr. J?"
"Him, too." Mr. Z's brow clenched into a knot of skin. "We didn't think our last operation through as much as we should have."
"So what do we do now?"
"It'll be fine. The cops have no evidence, so they can't do anything. It just means we'll have to be more careful from now on."
Luo Jiahai pondered this for a moment. "Did you all…help Mr. T as well?"
"Yes." Mr. Z narrowed his eyes. "You know, all of us, including you, are victims of Skinner's Box."
"So…what was his thing all about?"
"I knew you would ask that, eventually." Mr. Z laughed, and lit another cigarette. "Fifteen or so years ago, Mr. T was still just a naïve little boy, not much different from any other kid. One day on his way home from school he encountered a man who called T by name and said he was a coworker of T's father. He asked T if he wanted to go see a kungfu movie with him, and T quite happily said yes. After that the man took T to the movies and even bought him a bottle of soda. But after T drank it, he fell asleep. When he woke up he found he had been stuffed under his seat. After a struggle he was finally able to climb out, and when he looked around he saw the entire movie theater was completely empty. Just imagine how frightened a little boy would feel, having been left all alone in the dark in an empty movie theater. He yelled and yelled but no one answered. He was crying as he felt his way around in the pitch black, but he just kept bumping into the cold, hard seats. He must have passed out from fright the
n, because the next day some people found him asleep on the floor when they went in to see a matinee."
"Then what?"
"T's parents reported it to the police that evening, but none of T's father's coworkers turned out to be the culprit. T stayed home resting for a couple of weeks. After that he was fine, physically, but there was one thing he never recovered—his sense of direction."
"Sense of direction?"
"That's right." Mr. Z's expression grew somber. "Ever since, T has had trouble distinguishing left from right, north from south, east from west. His parents had to walk him to and from school to keep him from getting lost on the way. While he was at university he had to drop out of reserve training, because every time he tried to participate in a formation exercise he would end up turning around in circles and getting yelled at by the drill sergeant. Some of his classmates thought he was sabotaging their team on purpose. By the time senior year rolled around, he had not gotten any better; he still had to follow someone wherever he went – to his classes, to the dining hall, back to the dormitory, even to the bathroom – otherwise he would get lost. After he graduated, he was forced to choose a career that did not require a sense of direction, and so he got a job as an editor. And he had to take a taxi to and from work. On the rare occasion that the cab driver didn't know how to get there, he just had to suck it up and pay the extra cab fare while he was driven around and around in circles."
"Wow. I don't see how you could live like that." Luo Jiahai was shaking his head, eyes wide. "So what happened? Did you guys find that person who did that to him?"
"We did."
"And then...did you kill him, too?"
"Of course," Mr. Z said casually, a pleased look on his face. "We formed the perfect plan. We blindfolded him and took him to the diner, where we trussed him up in a chair with metal wires wound tightly around his body. Then we set up the meeting room so that no light could get in through the windows; when we were done, it was completely pitch dark up there. Then we aimed an infrared video camera at him and hooked it up to the computer. We even built a remote triggering device and had T take it to an internet café on the other side of the city. From there he was able connect online and view everything happening in the dark room, and he could even talk to the prisoner over voice chat. And, of course, he could also use his remote triggering device to give him a taste of electric shock treatment," he finished with a satisfied chuckle.
"Ah..." Luo Jiahai's face brightened with sudden comprehension. "And that way T had an alibi, too, I assume."
"Exactly." Mr. Z laughed. "T is one smart S.O.B., that's for sure. He was the one who came up with the idea to act drunk and cause a big uproar in the internet café so that the employees there would all remember him."
"And the body? What did you do with it?"
"We dumped it in a labyrinth."
"A labyrinth?"
"That's right. It was a place Tan Ji often visited. He even drew us a detailed map. I know it doesn't make sense, but that guy was like a fish in water in there. It seems there are only two sorts of people who can find their way out of a labyrinth: people with extremely strong senses of direction, and people who have absolutely none." Mr. Z shook his head, chuckling at the irony.
"But why did he want to put the body in a labyrinth?"
"Who knows?" Mr. Z shrugged. "You know how it is. Whenever we kill one, it's the protagonist who gets to choose where to take his curtain call. My guess is, " he said, laughing a bit, "T hated that guy so much he wanted to make it so that even his ghost couldn't find its way out."
Luo Jiahai fell silent, head down, deep in thought. Mr. Z looked at him awhile, and then stood and patted him on the shoulder.
"L, I'm telling you all this because I want you to believe that we are definitely going to help you avenge Shen Xiang, and we'll do it both safely and thoroughly."
"Uh-huh."
"When it's your turn to be the protagonist, we'll listen to your instructions. You'll get to decide what happens, and how." Mr. Z paused. "Within reason, of course; we want to keep everyone safe."
"Okay." Luo Jiahai pressed his hand firmly in Mr. Z's. "Thank you; thank everyone."
"All right then. I'll be going now." Mr. Z glanced at his watch. "You should get some rest."
As he got up to leave, Luo Jiahai noticed Mr. Z putting something in his pocket. Upon closer inspection he realized it was the butt of the cigarette Mr. Z had just smoked. As he was closing the door behind him, it occurred to Luo Jiahai that Mr. Z had not taken his gloves off from the time he had entered the room to the time he'd left.
No sooner had he arrived at work than Fang Mu was summoned to Bian Ping's office. As he walked in, he saw an ominous look clouding his boss's face. Bian Ping asked him what he had been up to lately.
A bit taken aback, Fang Mu replied, "Investigating. What else would I be doing?"
"Well, then can you explain why someone has filed a report against you for abusing your police equipment usage privileges?" Bian Pin pointed at a piece of paper on his desk. "It's gone straight to the Bureau, and just now I got a call from them asking about you."
It dawned on Fang Mu that it must have to do with the incident at Angel Hall. Without explaining, he pulled up the video footage on his cell phone and showed it to Bian Ping. After the captain had watched it a second time, his expression softened. He ordered him to burn the video onto a CD so that he could take it to the Bureau chief.
Then he seemed to remember something, and asked Fang Mu, "Wait. Why were you there?"
Fang Mu gave him a brief explanation.
Bian Ping mulled it over, then said: "Just focus on your job for now. As for the demolition and relocation, it sounds like there are too many beneficiaries involved. Best not to do anything rash."
He was interrupted by the telephone ringing. As he answered it he pointed at the cigarette pack on the tea table for Fang Mu. A moment later, Bian Ping's face lit up. Fang Mu watched him expectantly, but when Bian Ping hung up, he just sat down in his chair looking stunned.
Finally Bian Ping opened his mouth. "Well I'll be damned. Remember that hair they found inside the teddy bear? It belongs to Luo Jiahai."
CHAPTER
27
Mr. H's Story
"I'm pretty sure everyone knows what line of work I'm in. I'm a truck driver. I didn't get much by way of schooling; compared to you all, I'm a simpleton. I used to think it was just those sourpuss, lip-smacking, intellectual types that got sick in the head, but now I know mental illness can get anyone.
"So yeah, anyways, it happened two years ago. Back then I'd only been married for about three years. My wife's the same as me, uneducated, but she's also real gentle and kindhearted. We weren't very well off, but we were happy, and didn't want for much. We were planning on having a kid, so I was working my butt off to save up some money so I could make life more comfortable for my family.
"It was one day in June, in the morning, when I got a strange phone call out of the blue. As soon as I picked up the receiver there was this hysterical voice saying something like, 'Where are you? Come to Furong Residential District, right away!'
"It struck me as weird, so I asked him, 'Who are you?'
"He said, 'I'm Chen Bing's husband. Chen Bing, she...she jumped off the roof and killed herself! ' And then he hung up.
"It scared me to death. I tried calling back the number on the caller ID. It was a cell phone, but it just rang out. I thought about it and decided to drive my company's truck over to Furong Residential District and have a look. The whole way there I racked my brain trying to think of where I knew the name Chen Bing from, and finally I remembered she was someone I went to middle school with. But I hadn't seen her since, and there wasn't any other connection between us. How in the hell would her husband have my cell phone number? And why would he call me at a time like this in the first place?
"When I got to Furong Residential District, I saw there were a couple police cars parked out the front, and there was this b
ig crowd of people hanging around one of the buildings just inside the gate. I ran over and before I even got there I saw the crowd part and some EMTs come running out with a stretcher, and on it lay someone completely covered in white cloth. I could tell by the long black hair dangling down the side of the stretcher that it was a woman. I was scared to death, wondering, is that really Chen Bing? Did she really kill herself?
"I was standing there staring like an idiot when this guy suddenly ran out from the crowd of people and grabbed me by the arm, and started dragging me over behind one of the buildings. I was too stunned to react at first, but then I broke free of his grip and faced him. He shouted my name at me, raised his fist, and before I knew it he pounded me one right in the face. It hurt; I nearly lost my balance. I rubbed my sore jaw and yelled at him, 'Who the hell are you? Why the hell did you hit me?'
"He screamed at me, 'I'm Chen Bing's husband! You bastard, it's all your fault she's dead! ' Then he threw something at me, turned around, and ran off. By then there were a bunch of people staring at me, so all I wanted to do was to get out of there as quick as I could. I ignored my busted lip and picked up the thing he threw at me – it was a package of some sort – then got back in the truck and drove off.
"I didn't go back to work that day, and I turned off my phone. I drove for a bit and then parked on the side of some street. I sat there in the truck and opened the package. Inside there were a few diary books and a pile of letters. From the dates on them, they'd been written starting over a decade ago and went all the way up to just recently. I sat there leafing through the letters and diaries a while before I realized they'd all been written to me. In her diaries she wrote that she'd been secretly in love with me ever since middle school, but she never got up the guts to tell me. After graduation everybody spread to the four winds, and she got married, but she wasn't able to forget her feelings for me. After tossing and turning in bed for many nights she finally decided to ask someone to find out my cell phone number and where I worked. In the meantime she kept on writing me letters, but she never sent any of them. Later her husband found the letters and her diaries and completely lost his shit. He beat her. After that he started glaring at her all the time like she was a traitor, and any time she did anything to piss him off he'd beat her again to vent his frustration. After a few more times of this Chen Bing lost all hope for saving her marriage. The night before she jumped to her death, her husband hit her because of some nit-picky little thing. Chen Bing locked herself in the bedroom and wrote me one last final letter. Then she got onto the windowsill and sat with her legs hanging over the edge, and she stayed like that for the rest of the night. Then, at first light, she jumped."