Chapter 7

"Deputy…Deputy-Captain Tao!"

Tao Ran turned and saw the sub-bureau's "waterspout" wonder, Little Glasses Xiao Haiyang, pelting towards him.

Xiao Haiyang's glasses had been broken yesterday, and he hadn't yet taken the time to switch to new ones; they hung crookedly down over his cheekbones. He stood breathlessly in front of Tao Ran, his expression uncommonly grave as he took several deep breaths. Tao Ran's chest hurt a little just looking at him.

Xiao Haiyang's face was as tense as if he'd just had a facelift. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and pushed up his glasses, which were on their last gasp. Then he could clear his throat and fish a notepad out of his pocket. "Deputy-Captain Tao, there's something I want to report to you."

Tao Ran good-naturedly waited for him to catch his breath. "Don't rush. Anything you have to say, take your time."

"It's like this: yesterday while we were making inquiries in the West District, I discovered the living situation over there is very complex, highly fluid and seasonal. It's normal for renters to move away when they change jobs. As for those overcrowded illegal rentals, they're really more rundown long-term hostels. Because of this, relationships between people aren't very close, except for people from the same place looking after each other. Yesterday my colleagues worked all day without getting much useful information."

Tao Ran gave a faintly encouraging nod. "Right."

"But among the people living with He Zhongyi, there was one from the same province as him, called…" Xiao Haiyang flipped through his memo book. "…called Zhao Yulong. He got on well with the victim. Apparently He Zhongyi got the delivery job on his introduction. Ma Xiaowei said he's had to go back home to deal with something these past few days."

Tao Ran raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had just been thinking of contacting this person.

"Yesterday evening I found the person in charge of supply for the coffee shop chain and got Zhao Yulong's contact information," said Xiao Haiyang. "When he heard the news, he agreed to take the last long-distance bus back to Yan City last night. I arranged to see him today."

Tao Ran looked at him thoughtfully. "I thought the sub-bureau's investigation was focused on Ma Xiaowei."

Xiao Haiyang's face tensed even further. He subconsciously tugged at the hem of his shirt. "I…I've been thinking that there's something wrong with that mysterious individual who gave the victim the phone. Now they've identified Ma Xiaowei as the murderer, there are still many questionable points… I discussed this with our captain… He told me to not be such a smart ass and stop buying trouble."

At this point, Tao Ran's face grew serious, his warm smile vanishing. "What time did you arrange to meet?"

"Um," said Xiao Haiyang, looking at his watch, "if the long-distance bus isn't late, an hour from now."

Tao Ran came to a prompt decision. "I'm going with you. Come on!"

While the lowly criminal policemen pounded the pavement with the sun beating down on them, Master Fei was reclining in a soft swivel chair in his office.

He had his forehead propped on one finger. On the desk next to him was a laptop whose screen showed the short and unremarkable account of He Zhongyi's life. Fei Du found a phone number in his address book and made a call.

"Hi, Chang-xiong (17), it's me." Fei Du listened to the person on the other end say something, then looked down and laughed. "Right, it's a little embarrassing. There's actually something I'd like to ask your help with."

Less than half an hour later, Fei Du successfully got what he'd wanted—the footage from all the surveillance cameras around Chengguang Mansion on the night it had opened for business.

During the midday rest, Fei Du warmed up a jar of sweet milk in the tearoom microwave, off-handedly complimented a secretary's figure and advised her to eat well and not diet anymore, then locked himself into his office. He put on his headphones, with the song from the car playing on repeat, then got out a sheet of A4 paper.

Using a series of abstract markings only he could understand, he sketched a simple topographical map. He fiddled with his pen, pondered a moment, then lightly drew some circles on it. He wrote "20:00-21:30"; then the tip of his pen paused, and he changed "20:00" to "20:30."

Fei Du selected a few surveillance files from among a big heap of them, opened them all together, chose the segment from eight-thirty to nine-thirty, and watched them on fast-forward.

On the screen, several images quickly played at the same time. He leaned indolently back in his chair, all the vigor in his body seeming to be gathered in his eyes as he motionlessly watched the screen.

Meanwhile, briefcase tucked under his arm, wearing his flashy sunglasses, Luo Wenzhou was strolling around a traffic hub in the Flower Market District. From time to time he would stretch out an arm towards the taxis passing in the road; unfortunately, none of the taxis racing by were free. Upon seeing this, the Flower Market District's special product—a string of unlicensed black cabs—all issued invitations to him.

"Need a ride, handsome?"

"Where are you headed?"

"It's cheap, and faster than a taxi!"

Luo Wenzhou critically inspected the ranks of black cabs and finally stopped in front of one young man with a crewcut.

The young man was very alert. At once, he solicitously opened the car door for him. "Please get in. Where are you headed?"

Luo Wenzhou didn't answer. He got in.

The crewcut young man turned on the air-conditioning for him and steadily drove out of the line of cars. "You still haven't said where you want to go, handsome?"

"Just keep driving on ahead, all right?" Luo Wenzhou took off his sunglasses. His keen gaze met the driver's in the rearview mirror, and the driver froze, feeling inexplicable unease.

"I have here an anonymous report." When they had travelled some distance, Luo Wenzhou unhurriedly opened his briefcase, fished out a photocopied document and casually flipped through it. The driver's expression altered at once; he nearly scraped against the car next to him, meeting with a long horn blast. Luo Wenzhou was unmoved. "I'm not with your sub-bureau. Don't panic, just keep driving. I have some things to ask you."

Tao Ran and Xiao Haiyang successfully met with He Zhongyi's fellow provincial Zhao Yulong. The three of them went to a little noodle shop together.

Zhao Yulong was into middle age. He had been scraping out a living in Yan City for many years. While his position was still insecure, he was a lot more respectable than the young men who knocked around everywhere without catching a break. The man's face had the tired look of someone who had ridden ten hours and more on a long-distance bus. He blinked hard several times, the generous bags under his eyes trembling. "I never expected anything would happen to him.—Officers, is it all right if I smoke?"

No one in the little noodle shop was enforcing anti-smoking regulations; the place was full of men puffing away. Zhao Yulong took two big drags and rubbed his face. "Zhongyi was a well-behaved kid. A lot of people with nothing better to do go to the pool halls or gaming parlors, but he never did. He was steady, went to work and saved money; he said he wanted to send it home to pay for his mother's medical treatment. He didn't loot or steal or gamble. He certainly didn't cause trouble. How could this happen to him of all people?—Ask me anything you want. As long as I know the answer, I won't hold back."

Tao Ran had been examining Zhao Yulong. He found that while he held his chopsticks with his right hand when he ate, he held his cigarette with his left hand and kept his teacup on that side as well—this was a common occurrence; in the past parents would worry their child would "fight" when eating at the table and forcibly "correct" a lefty.

Tao Ran got a photograph out of his bag; it was of the shoes worn by the victim. "I'd like to ask you, if I might, whether you lent these shoes to He Zhongyi?"

Zhao Yulong took a look. The rims of his eyes nearly reddened. He nodded faintly. "They're mine, he…he passed wearing these shoes?"

"Yes. These shoes are crucial," said Tao Ran. "Would you know why he wanted to borrow them?"

Zhao Yulong looked a little lost. He thought, then said, "He said he was going to a pretty upscale place to meet someone, a place called…called something Guang…Chengguang House, or was it Villa?"

Xiao Haiyang abruptly sat upright. "Chengguang Mansion!"

"That's it," said Zhao Yulong, "that was the name."

"To meet whom? When?"

Zhao Yulong shook his head. "He didn't say. I asked, but that child had very upright ideas, and he could keep his mouth closed."

Xiao Haiyang quickly followed up, "Mr. Zhao, He Zhongyi had a new cell phone, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did," said Zhao Yulong, "the white one, right? He never could bring himself to use it. He always carried the old one he'd had before. He'd take the new phone out to look at it sometimes, though he put a lot of protective film over it first."

"Do you know who gave him that phone?" asked Xiao Haiyang.

Zhao Yulong frowned slowly.

"What's wrong?" asked Tao Ran.

"At first he said someone from his hometown gave it to him. I thought it was very strange at the time, because I'd never heard him mention having any acquaintances in the city before. I was afraid he'd done something stupid, met some bad people. Isn't buying someone such an expensive thing out of nowhere showing pointed attention for no reason?" Zhao Yulong tapped out some cigarette ash. "I wouldn't leave him alone and kept on asking, and he finally said that one day while he was making deliveries, he had a conflict with someone. The other person hit him a few times, and he didn't fight back. Afterwards I guess the other guy regretted it or something and gave him the phone as a formal apology."

Tao Ran and Xiao Haiyang exchanged a look—they hadn't heard about this when they'd gone to make inquiries.

Was there anything worth concealing about having a conflict with someone who later formally apologized to you?

If this was true, why had He Zhongyi been vague about the details and even pretended an acquaintance had given it to him?

He Zhongyi lived with so many people that if no one had noticed that he'd been beaten up, it clearly showed that the fight hadn't been serious; so why had the other party sent a valuable object along with the "formal apology?"

All of a sudden, this homicide case that had seemed like it could be quickly solved by investigating the victim's personal relationships had inexplicably turned into something bewildering.

Zhao Yulong didn't know the precise origins of the mysterious phone, but he did supply the approximate time the conflict had taken place. Tao Ran and Xiao Haiyang had to follow this clue to root around for traces at the delivery company He Zhongyi had worked at.

After noon, without any warning, the boundlessly clear sky changed its mood. The rampant sunlight was hemmed in on all sides and swallowed up by black clouds that came out of nowhere. There was humidity in the oppressive wind. It was clear that a rainstorm was about to break out.

Luo Wenzhou got out of the cab near a subway entrance but didn't go in. He put his hand on the car door and looked all around. A minibus parked at the intersection moved suddenly when his gaze swept over it; it slunk off as if it had a guilty conscience.

Luo Wenzhou bent slightly and spoke into the driver's ear through the half-open window. "Somebody's watching you. Be careful. Come to me if you need anything."

Despite the air-conditioning blowing cold air at him, the driver's forehead was covered in sweat. He nodded quickly.

Luo Wenzhou looked at him profoundly, then turned and went into the subway station. He had just come through the security check when his phone rang.

"Tao Ran, what is it?" he said, swiping his card and going through. Then he stopped in his tracks. "What? Say that name again."

The window in Fei Du's office, which hadn't been shut properly, was blown closed by the wind with a slam. Some papers floated down to the floor, rustling. Just then, his hand, loosely holding the mouse, suddenly moved.

Fei Du froze one of the surveillance camera images, enlarged it, and played it again. He noted that the time was around 8:50 PM.

This was a very peripheral camera, hardly within the limits of Chengguang Mansion. It was focused on a gravel path. Though it was early summer, owing to the nearby water feature, the mosquitoes were already plentiful. After dark there were few passersby, and anyone who did go by was in a hurry—but there was one hesitant figure that paced under the streetlamp for a long time.

The camera showed that this person was wearing crudely made and uncoordinated formal attire. He was rather skinny and not tall. He stayed where he was, smoking several cigarettes in a row. He was tightly holding a kraft-paper envelope. From time to time he looked in a certain direction for a moment. After a while, he seemed to get a phone call. He said a few words to the person on the phone, then hurriedly walked out of the frame.

Fei Du replayed this segment of video several times. He couldn't be sure that this was the victim, whom he had only glimpsed once. He grabbed his car keys, closed his computer, and left.

Forty minutes later, Fei Du arrived in the Flower Market District's commercial center.

He looked up at the increasingly gloomy sky, dredged up an umbrella from the trunk of his car, then walked to the landscaped grounds around Chengguang Mansion.

Fei Du had an excellent sense of direction; he hardly got turned around finding the position of that security camera.

The water vapor in the air was so thick it was about to start pouring down. He carefully examined the camera's position, recalling the direction the person in the video had looked in. He turned—at the far end of the path, Chengguang Mansion could be vaguely seen.

Fei Du's gaze fell on a garbage can next to him—on the ash tray several lonely cigarette butts.

This place was off the beaten track. The garbage can was clean. Hardly anyone ever threw anything into it. A sanitation worker might come by only once every other week to clean it out. Fei Du took a silk handkerchief from his pocket and carefully picked up the cigarette butts.

His phone suddenly rang.

Fei Du unhurriedly wrapped up the cigarette butts, then took out his phone. Seeing the caller ID, he smiled before he spoke. "What, you suddenly feel that not seeing me for a day is like spending three years apart?"

Tao Ran's tone was serious. "The night before last, were you at the Chengguang Mansion?"

"Yes." Fei Du paused. "What is it?"

"Were you with a person called Zhang Donglai?"

Fei Du immediately froze. Before he could respond, a flattening thunderclap rang out; the heavy rain came pouring down.

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Author's Note:

(17) Xiong (兄) is an honorific used between male friends.