Profiler (Fang Mu Eastern Crimes Series Book 1) (19 page)

Third, because the box in which the victim was found was fairly large, her killer would probably have needed a car to transport it to her doorstep, but because the driveway was laid in cement, it was impossible to obtain any trace of tire tracks. Therefore, immediate interviews would need to be made with everyone living nearby, to determine whether any suspicious cars were seen on the morning of the murder. At the same time, car rental agencies across the city would need to be investigated for news of any suspicious renters.

Fourth, although the box in which the victim was found likely originated at either an Adidas company store or specialty shop, the killer had already removed any label that might have identified the place from where it was purchased or shipped. This was obviously done to conceal its origin, so a citywide search would need to be made for the source of the box.

Fifth, while undergoing intense torture, the victim had probably attempted to dodge or resist her killer, and police suspected that it was during one such attempt that the victim grabbed the piece of pottery. This meant that the vase from which the piece was broken had likely belonged to the killer. Therefore, all markets in the city that sold this kind of pottery would need to be investigated for clues about its purchaser. 

Coughing. Insuppressible coughing.

And then endless vomiting.

Leaning on the rim of the toilet, grabbing for the toilet paper. Ripping off a piece and carelessly wiping away the vomit and then throwing it into the toilet and flushing. The filthy paper swirling out of sight.

So dizzy.

With difficulty standing up. A familiar face in the mirror. Skin pallid, unkempt hair.

Smiling at the face.

Eyes shut as the lips curl upwards.

No—must not look at that monstrous smile.

Stumbling back into the living room. Collapsing on the couch. Tightly shut living room windows, thick curtains blocking out the sun. Pale yellow light from a single bulb on the wall. The air stiflingly hot. But then, why does it still feel so cold?

Hair soaked with cold sweat, plastered uncomfortably to the forehead. Forcefully pushing it back with a damp palm. Sniffing.

The room smells of rot.

Striding quickly to the window, throwing back the curtains with a
whoosh
, and then, as if burned by the sunlight, immediately drawing them closed. Over to the desk now, tearing open the drawer, pulling everything out. At last, a bottle of air freshener.
Psh. Psh. Psh.
Spraying until there's not a drop of liquid left.

The dense lemon scent burns, but now everything is much more comfortable.

Falling back onto the sofa. Grabbing a book from the floor, flipping through the pages. On one: a large fold-out drawing of the human anatomy.

Get the fuck away!

The book is thrown hard against the wall, hits with a
thunk
, and falls to the floor with a rustle of paper. Innocently, it lies open.

Body going limp, sliding to the floor. Instantly chilled by the cold tile.

Hands propped at sides, trying to rise, feeling something cold, damp and oily beneath one palm.

Lifting it from beside the sofa. One glance. A small piece of someone's ruined skin.

Throat suddenly clenching. And then mouth covered, scrambling to the bathroom, no time to get the toilet lid up before the horrid sound of retching echoes off the walls.

Although bent like a bowstring, although stomach twitching violently, only a few mouthfuls of yellowish liquid fall into the bowl. Despite tear-blurred vision can still feel drops of mucus trickling down the lips.

Again that face in the mirror. Tiredly wiping long trails of saliva hanging from the mouth. Staring at the face.

It was someone else, the face was just as pale but it was someone else.

Laugh! Open your mouth and laugh.

The stranger in the mirror cackled right back.

Looking back into the living room, at the photograph on the computer screen.

You'll never defeat me.

CHAPTER
15
Wrong Way

F
ang Mu took a few quick steps over the grass and then hurried down the little path back to his dormitory. When he reached the building he saw Liu Jianjun, who was wearing a suit and tie and talking to Deng Linyue just outside. Seeing Fang Mu, Liu Jianjun waved enthusiastically, and Deng Linyue gave a very polite smile. Fang Mu waved back at them distractedly and then rushed into the building.

Five minutes earlier, Du Yu had called Fang Mu from their dorm room, saying that one of Fang Mu's college classmates was there to see him.

Since graduating from the Teacher's College, Fang Mu had essentially lost touch with all of his old friends, so he found it extremely surprising that one would come for a visit.

When he opened the door, someone sat up on his bed, and then in a thick
Dalian
accent said, "Sixth Brother, you're back."

For several seconds Fang Mu was stunned. Then without saying a word, he walked over and gave the visitor a big hug.

 "Eldest Brother," said Fang Mu with a smile.
(Translator
’
s note: In Chinese dorm rooms, it is customary to refer to one's roommates based on their age
—
as in Eldest Brother for the oldest guy, and then Second Brother, Third Brother, Fourth Brother, etc. Because
China
's dorms are often quite packed, it is not unusual to have up to six "brothers" in one room.)

Eldest Brother was rather taken aback by this sudden show of affection. Clapping Fang Mu on the back, he said, "My man, you look exactly the same."

As they released each other, Fang Mu had tears in his eyes. Embarrassed, he quickly wiped them dry. "Eldest Brother, what are you doing here?"

"I just happened to be in the city on business, so I figured I'd stop by and see you. Man, I never expected
Jiangbin
City
University
's security to be this tough. They made me register my ID number before they'd even let me up here."

"Some serious stuff has happened here over the last little while, so they're being pretty strict with outsiders."

"Oh, what kind of stuff?"

"Two students were murdered," interjected Du Yu.

"Jeez, that kind of thing seems to be happening everywhere," said Eldest Brother with a frown. Then when he noticed how Fang Mu's expression had changed, he quickly switched topics.

"You guys' dorm is pretty nice. Is this standard for graduate students?"

"Yep," said Fang Mu. "But, Eldest Brother, what have you been doing?"

"Just muddling along. I'm sure you've heard how hard it is for college graduates to get jobs these days. I've been working in the legal department of a state-run company in
Dalian
. The company's been having some trouble lately, so we've had to put forth some suits on their behalf, and collect from some debtors. You know, 'This isn't enough money', or 'This will do for now'—that kind of stuff. In fact, that's why I'm here today; to go see a company about some money they owe us."

Fang Mu laughed and said, "Have you been in touch with any of the other guys?"

"Second Brother went into the army. The Eldest Brother from Room Three-Fifty-One joined at the same time, and he told me recently that Second Brother is now a company-level cadre. After graduation, Fifth Brother went to
Guangzhou
to become a lawyer, and I hear he's doing pretty well. But truth be told, I haven't been great at keeping in touch." Eldest Brother's voice fell. "After what happened with Third Brother—when Fourth Brother died and you barely survived—you remember what it was like. We had been six close roommates, and then only four were left. Afterwards, none of us wanted to talk about it, we were all just looking forward to the day we could forget it even happened, so it was only natural that we would gradually fall out of touch."

Noticing that Du Yu had been listening in, Fang Mu took Eldest Brother's arm and said, "Come on, Eldest Brother. You've traveled all this way; let me treat you to something to eat."

At a small restaurant just outside the university gates, Fang Mu and Eldest Brother drank until their faces were red. After all, they had once been as close as brothers, so having not seen each other for two years, it was only natural that they had a lot to talk about. At first they kept interrupting one another, like a pair of old men competing to see who had the best memory, though as if by tacit agreement they both carefully avoided bringing up that tragic event. Instead, they did their best to recall all the hilarious stories and brilliant remarks they could remember from their college days, and when they couldn't think of anything else to say, they just laughed idiotically and took another drink.

After they had more or less drunk their fill, Eldest Brother suddenly clapped himself on the forehead and said, "That's right, I almost forgot. Did that journalist ever come talk to you?"

"Journalist?" said Fang Mu, a little confused. "What journalist?"

"Wasn't there a journalist that wanted to interview you?" said Eldest Brother, looking even more confused himself.

"Interview me?" said Fang Mu. "Interview me about what?"

Eldest Brother sighed. "What else? That thing with Third Brother."

Fang Mu sobered up fast. "What exactly are you talking about?"

"No need to get so excited. About three months ago I got a call from someone who said he was a reporter for the
Changhong City Evening News
. He asked me if I was your classmate, and I said I was. Then I asked him how he had gotten my number. It was in the alumni book, he said. Then he told me he was investigating what happened with Third Brother, because he wanted to write an article about the mental health needs of university students."

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing much, just what I knew. However, I began to have a feeling that what this guy was really interested in wasn't Third Brother; it was you."

"Interested in me?"

"That's right, for example what your personality was like, how you behaved after everything happened. I think it was because you were the only survivor."

Fang Mu thought for a moment, and then asked, "What was this guy like?"

"While I can't say anything for sure, his voice didn't sound that old, around thirty, more or less, and he was very polite." Then, noticing that Fang Mu's brows were drawing tighter and tighter, he asked: "What's wrong? He never interviewed you?"

"No." Fang Mu shook his head.

"That's strange. What could this guy have wanted?" said Eldest Brother, visibly puzzled.

Fang Mu was thinking the same thing. He thought of the person that Librarian Zhao had mentioned over the summer.

Who was he? And what was he after?

Zhao Yonggui's trip to
Hegang
City
turned out to be a big waste of time. At first, however, it seemed promising. Once there, he was informed by the local police that while in high school, Wang Qian was strenuously courted by a male classmate named Yan Hongbing. The problem was, his method of professing his love was a little excessive; any boy that came in contact with Wang Qian would inevitably be beaten up by Yan Hongbing and some of his hooligan friends. One time, Yan Hongbing happened to run into Wang Qian while she was being tutored in physics by a male teacher; as a result, this man was later beaten so bad he ruptured his spleen. This incident caused so much fuss that if the College Entrance Exam hadn't been coming up, Wang Qian might have changed schools. Afterwards, Wang Qian began attending
Jiangbin
City
University
, while Yan Hongbing, who failed to graduate, became a jobless vagrant, and traveled twice to
Jiangbin
City
University
to pester her. The second time, however, he was soundly beaten by Qu Weiqiang and his soccer teammates.

"Just you wait," Yan Hongbing was reported to have said at the time, "sooner or later, I'm going to take care of you." And as it happened, at the time of the 7/1 double murder, Yan Hongbing had left
Hegang
City
, and his whereabouts were unknown.

This piece of information closely conformed to the murder motive suggested by Professor Qiao, and Zhao Yonggui grew excited about the prospects. So, when the
Hegang
police informed him that Yan Hongbing had suddenly returned, he asked them to detain him, and then drove straight through the night to
Hegang
to begin his interrogation.

The result was greatly disappointing. Although the story about Yan Hongbing pestering Wang Qian at
Jiangbin
City
University
turned out to be true, a short time after that he had gone to
Guangzhou
and found work as a hired goon in an underground gambling hall. Then, while participating in an armed fight in mid-June 2002, Yan Hongbing was severely injured. On the day of the crime he was still in a hospital in
Guangzhou
undergoing treatment, and under strict police supervision to boot.

So when Tai Wei emerged from the director's office and then, while heading back down the hallway, once more came across Zhao Yonggui leaning against the window and smoking sullenly, he knew exactly what was meant by the phrase 'misery loves company'.

Because right then, Tai Wei's mood was no better.

Not only had the hospital murder case reached an impasse, there were also zero leads in the recent killing of the little girl. So far, all preliminary investigations into the case had come back with nothing.

On the day of her disappearance, nearly all of Jin Qiao's classmates were promptly picked up by their parents. Only one, a little girl, recalled that when she was heading home, Jin Qiao was still standing outside the school doors, as if waiting for someone. And because the teacher in charge was celebrating her father-in-law's birthday that evening, she had left as soon as school was out. No one noticed who Jin Qiao ended up leaving with or where they went.

Although Jin Bingshan and Yang Qin were originally both professors at
Jiangbin
City
University
, Jin Bingshan later left to form an arts and entertainment company with some of his friends, while his wife continued to teach. But whether at the university or in society at large, they both had excellent reputations and no enemies. And while Jin Bingshan did work in the business world, he kept his hands clean, and was never known to have engaged in illicit relationships with any other women. Therefore, the possibility that this was a crime of either passion or revenge could essentially be eliminated.

Interviews with those living near the crime scene also brought miniscule results. According to Jin Bingshan, when he returned home at roughly 2 a.m. that morning, the box was discovered; it was not yet there and he did not register its appearance until five hours later, when he tried to leave and found it blocking the door. Therefore, at some point between two and seven in the morning, the killer must have transported the box containing Jin Qiao's corpse to her parents' doorstep. At this time of year, the sky would already have begun to brighten by 6 a.m., meaning that the killer most likely dropped off the box at some point between two and five. Incidentally, this also happened to be the time when most people sleep their deepest. So when police asked the building residents whether they heard the sound of someone moving something heavy that morning, or saw a suspicious car parked outside, nearly all of them just shook their heads. Only one, a middle-aged man with prostate issues, said that while he was getting up to use the bathroom at around 4 a.m. he heard the sound of a car engine outside. As for the model, license plate, or driver, he never even looked.

As for the box itself, police checked Adidas company stores and specialty shops across the city. They learned that boxes like it were originally used for shipping sportswear, and that after it arrived at a store and was unpacked, it would either be sold to a salvage station or occasionally taken home by one of the employees. There were over a thousand salvage stations of all sizes across the city; investigating them one by one would take a lot of time.

As for the piece of broken pottery, police discovered that it did indeed come from a replica of a vase by the British artist Grayson Perry. Such replicas were available in arts and crafts stores in every corner of the city. Finding the buyer of this specific piece would be like dredging a needle from the bottom of the ocean.