Chapter 25

Wang Xiujuan, female, Han ethnicity, forty-eight years old; educational record: elementary school drop-out; the mother of He Zhongyi, the victim in the "520" case.

Her husband had died in an accident ten years earlier, and she herself had then suffered serious illness. She basically had no ability to work, ordinarily relying on a little hand basket-weaving and the negligible rent from 2 mu(34) of arable land to survive. Before coming to Yan City, the furthest she had gone had been to the hospital in the provincial capital.

The first time in her life that she came to Yan City, it was because she had been parted from her only child forever.

Apart from this, in everything that concerned her, there was basically nothing special worth mentioning.

As far as her tangible and intangible happiness, her anger, grief, and joy, whether there were any expectations or desires in her unremarkable life—it wasn't to be thought of.

"Continue investigating any suspicious cars that passed near the City Bureau.—Have you located her phone?"

"Captain Luo, her phone was in a garbage can not far from the City Bureau's gates."

Luo Wenzhou picked up the walkie-talkie, opened his mouth, then put the walkie-talkie back down; he had nothing to say—fair enough; as far as she was concerned, in all of this enormous city, aside from the mysterious individual who had kidnapped her, the only people who would call her number were swindlers and telemarketers.

Luo Wenzhou somewhat irritably stepped on the gas. "Why? What's the murderer's motive? Can the sudden impulse to murder have such long aftereffects? To tell you the truth, I'm starting to doubt your inferences—also, if the murderer is this Zhao Haochang, why would he dump the body in the West District? If he wanted to frame Zhang Donglai, wouldn't leaving the body directly at Chengguang Mansion's door be better?"

The person next to him didn't respond. Luo Wenzhou glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw that Fei Du was lost in thought. His unblinking gaze was fixed on the road through the windshield. Aside from his fingers tapping a 4/4 beat on his knee, he hadn't moved in a long time.

Luo Wenzhou rudely tapped him on the head. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

Fei Du: "…"

President Fei had reached his present age without anyone having dared to touch his precious head—and touching it was one thing; there was also the "slapping" method of touching.

For a time he seemed not quite to know how he should react. He turned his head to stare at this extremely audacious human, his expression a little scary.

Luo Yiguo stared at him every day conspiring at his murder, so Luo Wenzhou didn't care about this "death ray." Not wavering from his intent, he continued to ask, "Is there a possibility that the person who dumped the body in the West District and the murderer who killed He Zhongyi aren't the same person at all?"

The tips of Fei Du's eyebrows moved slightly; just when Luo Wenzhou thought he was sinking into another round of thought, he answered, treasuring words like gold: "Yes."

"Which is the greater possibility?" said Luo Wenzhou.

"It depends on whether there are any other clues." Fei Du's backwards biological clock seemed to have returned to the right path—as if he was finally somewhat weary, he lowered his head and forcefully pinched the bridge of his nose. "Looking only at the facts I know, I could be convinced of either possibility."

"If the person who dumped the body and the murderer aren't the same person, the possibilities are too numerous," said Luo Wenzhou. "Let's not discuss that for now. If the person who dumped the body is the murderer, then what's the logic of dumping the body in the West District?"

Fei Du opened his eyes. His already generously-sized eyelids pulled into two thick layers, pressing heavily on the rims of his eyes.

He considered, then mildly said, "Based on previous inferences, the murderer must have been acquainted with He Zhongyi. When the police work a case, you'll ordinarily start by investigating the victim's social relationships. Therefore, he was very likely at risk. Especially at risk of having some things that he'd very carefully hidden unearthed in the process.—Why the West District? Think about it from the other direction. If it hadn't been those selfie-taking maniacs who found the body, then…it's possible it wouldn't have been found."

Perhaps he would have ended up like Chen Yuan. Even though his body was left out in public, in the end it would all have come to nothing.

Fei Du paused, then continued, "And in case something unexpected happened, the first firewall failed and the body was discovered, the police force would begin investigating the case according to conventional lines of thought. So he set up a second firewall—Zhang Donglai. Zhang Donglai had recently had a clash with the victim and belonged to the 'shallow social relationships' category; a rough search would turn him up. And once the police had someone seriously under suspicion, you would concentrate the bulk of the investigation on him, and would cease or slow down probing into the victim's other social relationships. Owing to Zhang Donglai's special position, whether you investigated him or protected him, it would all blow up in your faces if you messed it up. Wrangling that would be enough to keep you busy. Where would you find the time to explore who else a kid from the countryside knew?"

Luo Wenzhou was silent—their investigation really had followed this line of thought.

Fei Du shifted as if he'd become uncomfortable from sitting too long, absently looking out the car window at the scenery rapidly falling back outside. The rows of street lamps turned the spiraling overpasses into an elegant, winding panorama. The first inklings of the East Flower Market District's nightless sky of fiery trees and silver flowers were already appearing far off. Perhaps it was his mistaken impression, but it seemed that tonight, the huge LED screen of the East District's Canopy of Heaven corridor was even brighter than usual.

Luo Wenzhou looked at him and suddenly asked, "Are you all right?"

Fei Du expressionlessly asked in turn, "What could be wrong with me?"

Luo Wenzhou thought about it, then bluntly pointed out, "Then how come you're suddenly being so kindly and gentle to me?"

For a moment Fei Du was speechless. "I'm sorry, Captain Luo. I didn't know you liked it rough."

Then both of them turned silent, feeling that there had been something a little off about these words.

Fei Du thought, Don't I have anything better to do?

Luo Wenzhou meanwhile reacted half a beat late. The little whelp was flirting with him!

And he was doing it in the tone of taking a dig!

"Accounting for the mental state of the officers working the case, kidnapping someone from the City Bureau—if we don't consider the possibility that this is the work of a gang, then I think this person must have a record." Fei Du turned his head, raptly staring at the East Flower Market District drawing ever nearer, wrenching the subject away in feigned amnesia.

"What kind of record?"

"The kind that was never discovered—only having a crime buried in the ground could foster this kind of insane narcissistic pride."

A string of police cars drove into the commercial center and quickly dispersed, focusing their search on the area around Chengguang Mansion, the central square, and the places where He Zhongyi had delivered goods.

"What the hell." Lang Qiao's voice came over the walkie-talkie through heavy interference. "Is President Fei there? Listen, do you guys normally have so many night owls walking around in the dead of night over here?"

Fei Du was also bewildered. Aside from the bar and private club crowd, at this hour, everyone else would normally have stopped. Even on the weekend there was rarely such a commotion.

"Wenzhou." Tao Ran came on. "The guys reviewing the security camera footage found a suspicious car. It had a logo on it that looked like it came from a certain rather irregular private car rental company. They've just found the person in charge of the company. Their operations are very irregular, they didn't notice that the recorded identity didn't match the person—"

"And whose is the recorded identity?"

"He Zhongyi's." Tao Ran sighed. "About fifteen minutes ago, the rental car drove into the commercial center… Hey—"

Without any warning, a round of applause burst out all around, abruptly cutting off Tao Ran's words.

Luo Wenzhou stopped the car at the side of the road and got out to look. He saw the flowing lights and colors on the Canopy of Heaven condense, then explode into an enormous countdown display: five minutes.

The Canopy of Heaven itself was an enormous LED screen, half of it on the buildings next to it. It was like a blanket flowing down. It formed a corridor about three floors off the ground and parallel to it. There were images on both sides—whether you were in the central square or in the surrounding buildings, you would be able to see the scrolling images.

Someone explained over the walkie-talkie: "Chief, apparently the closing ceremony rehearsal is going on over at the conference hall tonight. The observation deck at the Economic and Trade Building is a first-rate lookout point; all the LED screens here are going to play a live broadcast."

"Whatever," said Luo Wenzhou. "How is the investigation going in the areas we're focusing on?"

"There's nothing around Chengguang Mansion. We've asked several security guards who all say they haven't seen her. We can't get the security camera footage. They're saying it's private property, so if we want to get the footage we'll need to have a warrant."

"There are too many people in the square. We're asking one by one."

"The coffee shops are all closed, and there's no one around—we'll go follow his usual delivery route."

"Captain Luo, we haven't located that car yet. We're expanding the scope of our search."

The sound of everyone reporting at once poured into Luo Wenzhou's ears. He quickly arranged them in order of priority and was about to issue orders when he saw Fei Du suddenly get out of the car, gazing at the countdown on the Canopy of Heaven above his head with a frightening expression—it was already at four minutes and forty seconds.

Luo Wenzhou stared. "What's wrong?"

"In order for a method of suicide to attract notice, it has to make a big stir. Ordinarily it's at some symbolic location or somewhere crowded." Fei Du's eyes slowly opened wide. "Under everyone's gaze, how could you make it so everyone can see, but no one has time to stop it?"

Luo Wenzhou looked up at once. The East District's high-rises stood like trees in a forest, like fish scales and comb teeth, pointing at the sky. Looking up at them from below was almost dizzying. The countdown had fireworks expanding and contracting in the background, the constantly shifting rich colors setting off the brief time on the display.

"There are seven or eight skyscrapers here and countless other buildings…" Luo Wenzhou grabbed Fei Du's shoulder. "Which building's rooftop will she be on?"

Fei Du's face looked as though it had been smeared with white paint.

Luo Wenzhou realized at once that he'd asked a ridiculous question—Fei Du wasn't an immortal.

He grabbed his walkie-talkie, running in long-legged strides towards the nearest trade building. "All groups take note, immediately start searching all the rooftops!"

Fei Du had an intense feeling that when the countdown ended, something terrible would happen.

For a moment, he stood blankly where he was.

Luo Wenzhou hadn't even stopped to close the car door; he was already gone. But what could they find in less than five minutes?

For a time, the woman's face, teary-eyed and smiling, flashed before his eyes, blurring and gradually expanding, dangerously linking up with distant times, spreading as far as that summer day in the extravagant but solitary big house—

Just then, the sharp sound of a car braking scraped over his mind; the criminal policemen who had turned up nothing searching around Chengguang Mansion had arrived. Tao Ran got out, leading a big group of people. Tao Ran was quickly saying something into his walkie-talkie as he directed everyone to split up.

The countdown was at exactly four minutes, then three minutes and fifty-nine seconds—

Fei Du suddenly picked up his phone and quickly dialed a number. "It's me. Is the Canopy of Heaven corridor owned by the Economic and Trade Center? Get me their President Li, quick!"

The street full of bars was all lit up, bright as day. A number of merry-making guests heard the commotion of the light show and one by one went over to the central square carrying colorful cocktails, cheerfully shouting out along with the countdown. Under the glorious lights, the harried policemen travelled back and forth among the buildings—there was no time to wait for the elevators. They had to run up the emergency stairs, arrive breathless at the rooftop, hold up a flashlight to search. Finding nothing, they turned back and went to search the next one…

The woman stood on high. Had the person who had brought her there already left, or was he somewhere watching her?

She thought that this person had been a little familiar, but she hadn't strained herself to find out who he could be. On the contrary, the trace of familiar feeling had placated her.

Though it was already summer, in the dead of night the wind on the rooftop was still cold. She looked down. From her high vantage point, the unceasingly flashing LED screens and laser lights of the commercial center were dizzying.

"How much electricity does this take?" she thought irrelevantly.

At home, in order to save electricity, she would sit out in the yard in the evening, wash up by feel and by the light of the moon. She wouldn't turn on the lights if she didn't have to. She had never seen such an extravagant night scene with her own eyes.

The woman once again looked at the countdown on the big screen: one minute and five seconds, one minute and four seconds…

She bent over with some effort, picking up a big sign from the ground. Her "grievance" was written on the outside of the sign; on the inside were two sturdy straps, so she could wear the sign like a pair of wings on her back.

She didn't know whether the sign would break if she jumped from such a high place, so there was also a testament hidden in her pocket—that person had printed it for her. She could only approximately read what was written on it, having forgotten most of the reading and writing she'd learned in elementary school.

The minute position on the countdown had already become a zero, and the second count was quickly decreasing.

The woman clenched her teeth. Wearing her "wings" telling of deep injustice, she stepped over the railing—

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Author's Note:

(34) Traditional unit of measure, about 1/15 of a hectare.