The Blade of Silence (Fang Mu Eastern Crimes Series Book 3)

by Mi Lei

  As he left the temple, a serene smile spread across Liang Sihai's face.

  The mood in the conference room of the Municipal Public Security Bureau was somber. The afternoon's unexpected events had turned an already complicated and confusing case into a genuine nightmare.

  After the polygraph test had finished, Han Weiming presented them with two entirely contradictory results: Part of the test provided a clear and definite negative result, the other part a clear and definite positive. The way Han Weiming explained it, Xing Zhisen had not lied in his deposition to the police. However, he apparently had had far more than a simple meeting in mind when he visited the Bay City Hotel that day. Han Weiming never spelled it out for them, but everyone who understood the test realized that Xing Zhisen had gone to the Bay City Hotel to kill someone—he just happened to kill the wrong person.

  Other than Han Weiming's solemn, low voice, the conference room was eerily quiet. The attendees were all lost in thought and even the high-ranking officials had no desire to share their conclusions.

  After Han Weiming finished his report, the commissioner stubbed out his cigarette and gazed blankly around the room. He stiffly declared they couldn't afford any mistakes in this case and that further deliberations would be necessary. The meeting was then adjourned.

  One at a time, the attendees stood and quickly shuffled out of the room. Before long the vast conference room had all but emptied, leaving only Han Weiming, Bian Ping, and Fang Mu. Bian Ping looked over to Fang Mu. The young expert seemed frozen in his chair, staring at the table. He'd been sitting like that from the moment the meeting began.

  With a sigh, the chief turned to Han Weiming. "Let's go and get dinner, Master Han," he quietly said.

  "Not for me. I'm not hungry." Han Weiming's face was pale. "My job here is done and I want to head back as soon as possible."

  Fang Mu drove Han Weiming back to his hotel. Bian Ping accompanied them. After the Shenyang polygraph specialist got out, Fang Mu and Bian Ping sat in the parked car, smoking in silence.

  Bian Ping flicked his dead cigarette butt out the window and heaved another heavy sigh. "I'm going back."

  "I'll drive you." Fang Mu started the engine.

  "No need. I can't make heads or tails of any of this. I need some time to think," Bian Ping explained as he got out of the car. "See you tomorrow."

  Fang Mu's head lowered as his spirits sunk, silence overtaking the vehicle. After a while, a sudden urge for a good drink overwhelmed him. Just down the road he could see the sign of a small hot-pot restaurant, its shining neon light seeming to beckon him.

  Fang Mu stepped on the gas, accepting that neon summon.

  In no time flat Fang Mu had four empty beer bottles lined up in front of him. His meal, however, remained untouched. He felt the rush of alcohol to his head. Squinting, he attempted to focus on the hot-pot on the table. Through the haze, he was suddenly struck by a drunken insight: His brain was not much different from that pot, all mixed up and boiling away.

  Old Xing had duped him. He never saw that coming. It wasn't that he resented the hard work and all the effort that now seemed wasted; what troubled him was that someone he had had absolute faith in had betrayed him. Could he still trust his judgment? Was there any meaning to what he had uncovered? Was anyone involved in this whole mess really innocent? Was Ding Shucheng really undercover or was he merely Xing Zhisen's accomplice?

  "Such a waste."

  A figure slowly appeared in the blurry fog that was Fang Mu's vision. He struggled and almost managed to lift his head and focus. After what seemed like forever, he finally recognized the man and his voice. It was Han Weiming and he was pointing at the hot-pot.

  The polygraph tester seated himself across from Fang Mu, letting his eyes sweep across the table and the empty bottles. He chuckled. "You must have been quite thirsty, Young Fang." He didn't wait for a reply, but instead called the waiter to order. "Another four bottles of beer and two plates of chuck ribs."

  When the food and drinks arrived, Han Weiming immediately began to down a bottle. He seemed fully occupied in the drink, barely aware of Fang Mu who was staring at him

  Fang Mu's mind twisted in turmoil. No doubt, Han Weiming was a dedicated policeman, but he had revealed Xing Zhisen's true intentions. Fang Mu's logic grew sketchy; was it not the polygraph expert's fault that he was now left in anguished betrayal?

  Han Weiming felt Fang Mu's glare, but did not look up. In between sips he casually said, "Eat something. You can go on hating me, but you have to eat."

  Fang Mu stared at him blankly as he automatically picked up a pair of chopsticks. He fished a piece of meat out of the pot and dropped it onto his plate. For a few seconds he just sat there. "...No, I don't hate you."

  Han Weiming laughed as he watched Fang Mu. "You and I, we both study people. Don't deny it," he said, chuckling dryly. "It's written all over your face."

  For a moment, Fang Mu didn't reply. After a few simmering moments, he suddenly slammed his glass on the table. "Why didn't you just leave Old Xing alone?" he shouted.

  His outburst drew the attention of several shocked diners. Turning, they saw Fang Mu, flushed and flustered, facing Han Weiming, who was calm and composed. It was a brief show and after a short stare the patrons turned back to their own plates and drinks.

  Han Weiming noticed that the glass in Fang Mu's hand had broken. He frowned and quickly signaled to the waiter to replace it.

  Fang Mu didn't much care about any of it. He felt utterly drained. His body limp and aching, he let his head sink. The waiter came and gingerly took the glass away. As the cold weight left his hand, Fang Mu noticed the new pain pulsing in his palm.

  Turning his hand to his face, he saw a bleeding gash. The cut wasn't deep, but blood was already gushing from the wound. From out of the haze crowding his vision, a white tissue was handed to him. Han Weiming wordlessly motioned him to stem the bleeding cut.

  Fang Mu did as he was told and pressed the tissue on the bleeding wound. Looking up, he saw that Han Weiming had set down his chopsticks and picked up a cigarette. He was slowly inhaling, watching Fang Mu.

  "It's not that I didn't leave him alone; he did this to himself." Han Weiming was speaking slowly, in a measured tone. "He did what no police officer ever should."

  "Old Xing would never kill without good reason..." Fang Mu protested.

  "Nothing justifies murder!" Han Weiming's voice rose. "Every other crime can be forgiven. But murder—murder can never, ever be excused!"

  Han Weiming punctuated every word he spoke. His creased face was locked in a deep frown, his eyes seeming ready to cut right through Fang Mu.

  In his weakened state, Fang Mu crumbled under his gaze. "Old Xing was set up …" he futilely muttered, stumbling over every word.

  "Obviously." Han Weiming lit another cigarette. "If I am not mistaken, you know more about the matter than any of us." He halted as Fang Mu recoiled from his half-slump. "No, I am not trying to get it out of you. If Old Xing trusts you, and if you are indeed worthy of his trust, then it's up to you to find out what really happened. If you can discover whoever orchestrated all of this, most of the charges leveled against Old Xing will likely be dropped, then..."

  "What then?" Fang Mu wondered.

  "Then Old Xing will have to pay the just price for his actions," Han Weiming quietly replied. "You and I, we both know that it has to happen. But that hardly matters right now; what is important now is that he's not convicted of a crime he didn't commit. I wish you the best of luck."

  Fang Mu sat in silence for a few more seconds, pondering the words. He finally stood up and left, a bit wobbly.

  Han Weiming stayed behind, muttering to himself. "That kid... He didn't even pay his tab."

  It was the dead of night and it was freezing. Fang Mu stood in an inky black corridor. By the faint light of the sleeping city he could see thin, white wisps escape his mouth with every chilled breath. Composing himself, he pushed the doorbell of Apartment 402.

/>   A moment later the peephole in the heavy door darkened. Fang Mu knew someone was looking out at him from inside.

  "Who is it?" a female voice asked.

  "It's me, Fang Mu." He did his best to keep his voice down. "Elder Sister, please open the door."

  Yang Min sighed in relief and with a click, the door opened. "What do you...?"

  Fang Mu rushed inside before she could even finish the question. "Elder Sister, we need to talk." His tone was dead serious.

  "Talk about what?" She sniffed, detecting his breath still heavy with alcohol. Frowning, she asked, "Have you been drinking?"

  "Yes." He brushed her question aside. "Where is Xing Na?" he asked bluntly.

  The color drained from Yang Min's face and her lips began to quiver. She stood shocked and fearful for a few silent seconds. Her eyes widened and she nodded, suddenly understanding.

  "Xing Na..." he said again.

  "What happened to Old Xing?" She grabbed his hand, clutching it with fierce and entirely unexpected strength. "Did he...?"

  Fang Mu felt her fingernails dig into his skin, but he pressed his question. "Where is Xing Na?"

  "First tell me what happened to Old Xing." Her voice was at the verge of breaking, raising to sharp heights. "I won't tell you anything if you don't!"

  He stared at her, seeing something behind her teary eyes that would not be swayed or broken.

  "In the lie detector test, this afternoon..." He searched for the right words. "The results showed that Old Xing wanted to kill someone that afternoon."

  Instantly the strength bled from the fingers clutching Fang Mu's hand, but Yang Min's stare didn't waver, even as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her legs gave out and she stumbled backward, collapsing onto the sofa behind her.

  "The old fool..." she sobbed. Her body shook as she curled up on the sofa cushion. "The old fool..."

  Fang Mu put his hand next to her on the sofa back. He could think of no words of comfort. As her sobs subsided, he quietly asked again, "Where is Xing Na?"

  Yang Min tears immediately dried up. She brushed her hand across her face. "Go," she told him firmly. "There's nothing to tell you."

  He knelt beside her. "Elder Sister, I want to help Old Xing…"

  "If Old Xing wanted you to know, he would have told you." She stood up. "I'm tired. Please leave."

  Fang Mu clenched his teeth, eyes sweeping the living room. Without a word of warning, he rushed toward one of the bedroom doors.

  For a split second, Yang Min was stunned, but quickly recovered and ran to stop him. She only managed to catch hold of his sleeve. He easily tore free and yanked open the bedroom door.

  He was greeted by the thick smell of incense and a strange, electrical droning. Everything behind the door was dark and bone-chillingly cold. Something was very wrong.

  This room looked nothing like a young woman's bedroom should. There was no bed, no dresser bureau, no dressing table, and no television stand. Instead there was only a small altar to the left and something that looked like a very large trunk in the middle of the room. Staring at it, Fang Mu realized that it was a large freezer.

  For a moment, Fang Mu could only stare in shock. He had already taken two steps before he realized that he was walking toward the freezer. That was as far as he made it as a pair of hands gripped his arm, attempting to stop him with all their strength.

  Holding on for dear life, Yang Min had again started crying. Tear-stained hair clung to her face and her pleading eyes were wide with fear. "Don't disturb her," she stammered. "Let her sleep in peace." She choked on her tears. "I beg you… She's suffered enough."

  The cold seemed to creep through his entire body as he realized what lay inside that frozen chest.

  "That is…? That's…?" Fang Mu began to tremble as his hand moved toward the freezer's handle. All words abandoned him.

  Yang Min desperately shook her head as her body sunk in on itself. Only her hands held on to his shirt hem, her body collapsing to the floor.

  "What? Why?" Fang Mu could not – would not – believe any of it.

  "Seventh of August… our Na did not come home from work… didn't answer her cell phone…" Yang Min was gasping for air. "After midnight, someone knocked on the door… I saw no one, but there was a large box..." A grief-stricken wail erupted from her as the scene seemed to replay before her horrified mind's eye. "My child… No arms, no legs…breasts cut off…and things stuffed into her…into her…"

  Fang Mu felt himself go numb. Hammers seemed to pound his temples. Time passed as Yang Min languished between terrible words. His teeth were grinding together, threatening to shatter under the pressure.

  "Who?" he hoarsely asked. The fierce growl that left his throat sounded nothing like his voice. "Who did this?"

  "I don't know..." Yang Min was no longer holding onto him.

  He had no idea when she had let go, but now her posture was broken in grief and sorrow, her face pressing against the floor as her sobs came from the very soul of her body.

  "I don't know..."

  "Why didn't you tell the police?" he shouted in disbelief. "Old Xing is the police! We are the police!"

  "He didn't tell me why he kept it a secret… He just wanted me to buy a freezer for our child..." She was convulsing with tears. "...He said he could deal with..."

  "But…why would you want to keep her here?" Fang Mu's mind was lurching from confusion to horror and back again.

  "The death of a child is too terrible…" Ever more tears fell. "She was so beautiful… She would have never wanted anyone to see her like this… We had nothing… We had to give her…final dignity…" Sobs swallowed her soft voice.

  Fang Mu looked at the freezer. It just stood there, uncaring. It was deaf to the sobs of the mother lying before it. He slowly took the final steps and put his hand on the lid. Mustering all his courage, he pulled it open.

  Only the very gates of a frozen hell should have revealed what now lay before his eyes.

  The girl within was covered in ice. Her head was tilted ever so slightly to the left and white with frost. But the cold could not hide the terrible wounds that covered her face. The fluids had long left her body, leaving her skin shriveled and blackened. Nothing of her beauty remained. She was dressed in a colorful down coat; maybe her parents had wanted to shield her from the cold. In it, her limbless proportions appeared distorted, like some horrifyingly mutilated toy baby doll.

  Yang Min appeared utterly unaware that Fang Mu had opened the freezer. Sobbing herself into a stupor, she was still trapped in her own nightmarish memories.

  "She must have been so afraid…afraid to die..."

  Fang Mu no longer heard her.

  But when he gently closed the freezer, he had already made his decision.

  Xing Zhisen was to be sent back to the offsite lockup. The Bureau attempted to restrict the news of what had happened in the lie detector test, but soon the entire city seemed to know that Xing Zhisen had planned to kill a man.

  The day of the transfer was cold and cheerless. When Xing Zhisen left Changhong City he was all alone; these days no one wanted to be seen anywhere near him.

  The police van left the Bureau's compound and was soon swallowed by the torrents of traffic. Half an hour later it left Changhong City . Another hour and it stopped at a service station off the expressway.

  As the van slowed, Xing Zhisen opened his eyes. He had kept them closed throughout the entire journey, resting his weary mind. He looked out the window and asked, "Where are we?"

  The two officers who were in the back with him didn't answer. Instead, they got up and stepped out of the van.

  Sighing quietly, Xing Zhisen closed his eyes again. Moments later, he heard a familiar voice from outside the window. "Thank you very much."

  "Don't take too long," one of the officers said.

  "Sure, I don't want to cause you trouble," the voice said.

  Xing Zhisen's heart pounded, his eyes now wide open. He stared at Fang Mu as he got into the
back of the van.

  Fang Mu closed the door and gently rapped his knuckles against the glass separating the back from the driver. The driver turned to look and Fang Mu crossed his fingers, forming the character for 10. He silently mouthed, Ten minutes.

  The driver nodded and got out of the van.

  Fang Mu took a seat across from Xing Zhisen. He pulled out a cigarette and shoved it into the older man's shackled hands. Shame-stricken, the old man mechanically let it happen. His gaze had dropped and he didn't dare look up. His guilty conscience was gripping him more tightly than his shackles ever could.

  "Good, now it's just you and me." Fang Mu bowed ever so slightly in the compartment. "I paid your place a visit yesterday."

  Xing Zhisen froze, the cigarette halfway to his mouth. He began to tremble.

  Fang Mu impassively watched his bound, shaking hands. "Who did it?" he asked. There was no hint of emotion in his voice.

  It seemed to take all of Xing Zhisen's strength, but eventually he managed to jam the cigarette into his mouth. He inhaled fiercely, filling his lungs with smoke. "Forget what I asked of you," he said in a voice no more than a croak. "I deserve what I have coming."

  Fang Mu's unblinking gaze lingered for a few more silent seconds. "Who did it?" he methodically repeated.

  "Don't ask. Don't get involved in this, not for me. I'm not worth it." Xing Zhisen shook his head. "I can't drag anyone else into—"

  "This isn't just about you," Fang Mu interrupted, his voice level. "I am who I am; now that I know, I have to do something." He paused, waiting for a reply. His tone took on a demanding quality. "What can you tell me?"

  Xing Zhisen raised his head. Meeting Fang Mu's eyes, he returned the younger officer's gaze in silence. Slowly, he began to smile.

  "What do you want to know?" Xing Zhisen asked.

  "Right now, I know nothing. So," Fang Mu said, eyes flashing, "everything."

  "It started early this year. You remember when I told you about the international child-traffickers? We tried to work the case from the ground up, but it was extremely slow going and we ran into one obstacle after the next. That's when we decided to switch to an undercover investigation. Around that time, I received a number of threatening letters and phone calls. They were nothing unusual. You know how it is. Anyway, I failed to take them seriously. Then, at the beginning of August, we heard of an aborted attempt to kidnap a female student in Kuantian District. The student was one of Xing Na's kids..."