Chapter 89: Hot Pursuit

Wang Dali, feeling ignored as I paid attention to Huang Xiaotao but not to him, grumbled, "Damn, I ask you all these questions and you don't even answer. But as soon as Xiaotao says something, you respond right away. Are your ears just blocking out my voice on purpose?"

I said, "Alright, alright, I'll get to your questions later." Then I turned to Huang Xiaotao and said, "The fingerprints and handprints look very similar. I'm wondering if the killer and the person who dumped the bodies might be the same."

"The same person?" Huang Xiaotao raised an eyebrow. "But one is cautious and meticulous, and the other sloppy and careless. Could it really be the same person?"

I took off my gloves and pulled a caliper from my bag. Carefully, I compared the prints. The fingerprints on the bag were faint; I could only find three clear finger impressions. To my surprise, those three matched the lengths of the fingers that left the marks on the corpse!

This was suspicious. The killer was calm and careful while murdering, wearing gloves, yet left so many fingerprints on the plastic bag when dumping the body—and seemed panicked.

Huang Xiaotao's doubt matched my own confusion. But I sensed this contradiction was the key to the entire case—like a thin veil that hadn't been pierced yet. It felt like a fishbone stuck in my throat, unbearably irritating.

"Do we keep testing?" Huang Xiaotao asked.

"No need."

I pulled out a stack of yellow paper, lit it, and recited a passage from the Rebirth Mantra. A chill wind stirred under the bridge, carrying the ashes away over the river. Several cops watched in stunned silence.

…

Huang Xiaotao seemed used to this by now. "Song Yang, why don't you head back? I'll stay and clean up the scene. There's nothing else urgent to investigate now. We'll gather all the clues again tomorrow morning."

I wanted to stay and help, but there wasn't much I could do. Plus, I'd been working since 4 a.m. and was exhausted. I agreed—my stamina definitely couldn't match Huang Xiaotao's.

Back at school, I skipped my afternoon classes and stayed in the library, researching until closing time before returning to the dorm.

Lying down, deep in thought about the case, Wang Dali perched on the edge of my bed and said, "Yangzi, you're still thinking about the case? You're gonna burn out if you keep this up. Go to sleep—you've got that meeting at the police station in the morning."

"Alright, alright, I'm done thinking," I replied.

"By the way, you didn't go fill water at the boiler room, right? I made you a thermos of hot water. Also, I left some instant noodles in your drawer. If you get hungry, just make some," Wang Dali said warmly.

I felt a wave of gratitude. Wang Dali wasn't just being nice for the sake of the reward money. Since freshman year, he'd always looked out for me. When I locked into something, I'd forget to eat or drink. Wang Dali often brought me water and food. Having a brother like him in college was truly a blessing.

I thanked him, and he said, "No need to be so formal, we're brothers."

I lay there thinking about the case until 3 a.m., then finally fell asleep, though the night was restless and filled with strange dreams.

The next morning, Wang Dali and I arrived early at the police station. Officers trickled in, and Huang Xiaotao, as usual, brought breakfast for everyone. I noticed Wang Yuanchao wasn't there and asked Xiao Zhou. Xiao Zhou said Wang Yuanchao had left early to investigate at Ma Jinhua's hometown.

At eight sharp, Huang Xiaotao called the case briefing to order.

She summarized the progress so far and compiled all the leads. The rope used to bind the bags was traced to a specific manufacturer, but since dozens of supply stores in Nanjiang City sold that rope, eliminating suspects would take time.

As for the nitrous oxide clue, no hospital in Nanjiang used that drug anymore—not even pet clinics—and no domestic manufacturer produced it. The most reliable guess was the killer synthesized it themselves.

Someone raised doubts: Ma Jinhua, the suspect, barely had a high school education—could he really synthesize nitrous oxide?

Another officer replied, "Anything can be found online now. Crime knowledge in movies and shows is everywhere. People with bad intentions can learn any criminal method. We've had illiterate farmers imitate films and make homemade bombs to rob armored cars."

Xiao Zhou added, "Nitrous oxide is a simple inorganic compound, produced by thermally decomposing ammonium nitrate in fertilizers. Anyone who can surf the web and knows basic chemistry can make it."

Huang Xiaotao cut off the debate and continued. She went over new clues I had found on the corpses and what we learned from visits to the missing persons' homes. When she said more victims were expected soon, the room fell into shocked silence—everyone suddenly felt the pressure of the ticking clock.

The case was stuck. Ma Jinhua was missing. The victims had no apparent connections. How to proceed?

Huang Xiaotao ordered all police to pull surveillance footage near every supply store selling that rope. No one was to do anything else today—just watch the footage and hunt for clues.

She then asked for my suggestions. I thought for a moment: "The kidnapper must have a vehicle. That vehicle should have appeared near all three victims' homes. Checking street corners and community security cameras might help."

"Good idea!"

Huang Xiaotao immediately sent officers to the traffic department and to the neighborhoods of the missing to request footage.

After the meeting, Huang Xiaotao told me, "Song Yang, the third victim still hasn't been found. You should head back."

"No, Wang Dali and I will help watch the videos," I said.

"Alright then!"

We spent the whole morning glued to monitors at the police station. Huang Xiaotao had people move TVs and recorders into the conference room. Since police equipment was limited, they rented additional gear from a nearby electronics store.

Everyone huddled in corners, eyes never blinking, occasionally pausing to apply eye drops or light a cigarette. The curtains were drawn, smoke swirling through the room. Anyone walking in might think they'd stumbled into a screening room.

The footage totaled thousands of hours, all watched at double speed. Wang Dali and I each focused on a monitor, but soon the monotony was suffocating—our eyelids heavy with fatigue.

Eventually, Wang Dali gave up, slumping in his chair like he'd lost all hope. "This is so damn boring. I'd rather watch Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf and enjoy it."

"Police work is like that—can't miss even the tiniest clue. Buck up!" I urged.

He sighed and resumed watching.

Our effort paid off. An officer spotted a white van on a neighborhood camera. The van appeared near the homes of the other two missing persons as well, and the timing matched their disappearances perfectly.

Huang Xiaotao immediately ordered someone to trace the van's license plate at the traffic department!