The shrieking police cars had stopped in a circle around the scene where Dong Xiaoqing had come to grief. The surveillance camera at the intersection clearly showed the whole course of the responsible car hitting her, then absconding.
"Right, it's that car." The place where the car mirror had hit Luo Wenzhou smarted fiercely, the flesh already swollen, though it seemed nothing was broken. It was having no impact on his ability to hop around the scene issuing orders. "The son-of-a-bitch had his face wrapped up, and he was dressed in full battle array, not showing a hair. This definitely isn't his first time doing this kind of thing. Suddenly turning at that speed and hitting someone, it's easy to mess up and flip the car over, and he absolutely had his escape route planned out in advance."
"Captain Luo, are you all right?" The colleague reviewing the security camera footage next to him was appalled by the sight of him. "Why don't we get a doctor to look after you?"
"I'm all right. It won't kill me." There was an anger in Luo Wenzhou's heart that could have burned a hole in the ground. He was afraid that if he breathed too deeply he'd blow the earth out of the solar system. He forced it down, doing his best to calmly say, "I need everyone to investigate all of Dong Xiaoqing and Dong Qian's social relationships afresh—all of them—especially Dong Qian's. The fleet he worked for, his clients, the rest stops he passed through, where he bought food to eat…"
"Captain Luo, why don't you at least get a bandage? Your arm is bleeding."
Interrupted for the second time, Luo Wenzhou at last exploded. "We still don't know where the murderer who ran someone over in broad daylight is, what the fuck do you all keep staring at me for?"
The circle of people around him was stunned silent as cicadas in winter by his roar. The little physician who'd been called over didn't even dare to breathe deeply.
Luo Wenzhou irritably wiped his scraped forearm on his shirt, then noticed that he'd lost control and quickly took a deep breath, forcing down his unhelpful exasperation at the speed of light.
"Sorry, that wasn't aimed at you guys." Luo Wenzhou lowered his head slightly, his voice relaxing. "This murderer killed someone right in front of my face, and I actually let him get away. It's a problem I have. I'm filled with anger. I was taking it out on all of you."
The colleague next to him knew his temper and was very understanding. "Boss, it's already lucky that you're all right. Who could have stopped him? You aren't a Transformer."
Luo Wenzhou forced a smile at him and said, "The murderer had his face and head obstructed at the time. It's not very likely he'd give us his car's information to investigate as we liked. I think…"
He hadn't finished when word came from his colleagues who had been searching for the responsible car according to his orders. "Captain Luo, we've found the owner of the responsible car. It's an ordinary white-collar worker, a woman, taking a professional qualifications exam today. She says she was running late, she was in a rush, and had to find any empty spot. She made do with parking her car illegally, and since she was afraid of getting a ticket, she purposefully found an out-of-the-way place without security cameras. The owner had another test after. She didn't know someone had made off with her car until we contacted her just now."
Luo Wenzhou signed deeply. His crow's mouth had made another correct prediction.
"Captain Luo, the traffic camera network caught the responsible car!"
"Go after it!" Luo Wenzhou said heavily.
But they were too late.
Half an hour later, the police found the broken-down car in the yard of an abandoned factory. The previously well-maintained white sedan's front windshield had died a violent death, and there was only one side mirror remaining, making it look like One-Ear in the cartoon (5). The car's four doors were wide open, and there was no sign of anyone. The cracked headlights and twisted bumper, faintly blood-spattered, formed a mocking smile.
Luo Wenzhou heard the technicians who had come along quietly commenting—
"What a sorry state it's in. Can it still be repaired?"
"Repaired my ass. Who'd drive a car that had killed someone?"
"But this car isn't cheap. I think it's the kind where the basic car is three or four hundred thousand? Is the owner rich?"
"I don't think so, she's working away to test for a certificate so she can get work."
"If I were the car's owner, I think I'd go mad. Isn't this an unmerited calamity?"
This group of technicians had been called over straight from the City Bureau. They hadn't gone to the scene of the murder and hadn't been face to face with the corpse. At first they didn't make an association with the hair-raising murder; the scrapped "murder weapon" touched the eternal insecurity of a salaried worker—they observed the law and discipline daily, working hard and scrambling every day, saving a bit here and a bit there, in ten years saving up for a house they could only come home to sleep in, in five years saving up for a car that was always stuck in traffic on the highway, carrying a load of loans, thinking it was a disaster if they ran late and couldn't make full-time hours.
Years of struggle and frugal living, then someone had casually made off with it and destroyed it in an instant. There was no one to take your grievance to; after all, compared to the girl who had become a pile of rotting meat, there didn't seem to be anything that bad about losing a car. It could even be called lucky.
Doors and locked courtyards deter gentlemen; they don't deter villains. All kinds of laws and regulations seemed to exist only to control honest and decent citizens. Looked at like this, "honesty," "decency," "civility," "sensibility"… These qualities were all errors that wouldn't make you anywhere near as happy as a mad dog going around biting everyone.
When Luo Wenzhou went over, the technicians doing their work consciously closed their mouths under the influence of his low pressure system. He walked around the scene, knowing that the murderer's choice to ditch the car here had been carefully deliberated and extremely secure. He had planned ahead of time how to escape with no one the wiser; by now he must have disappeared into the sea of people.
He went back alone to sit in the police car parked outside the scene and lit a cigarette.
The cigarette smell and faint scent of blood together made Luo Wenzhou squint. He thought about it, got a bottle of water out of the car, carelessly poured it onto the grazes and lacerations on his exposed skin, then did his best to send brief and accurate notifications to all parties involved.
When he got to Fei Du, Luo Wenzhou hesitated, guessing that he would be at the hospital, taking advantage of Zhou Huaijin's shaky mental state to worm something out of him, and thereupon only sent him a text message. He didn't expect Fei Du call him back before he'd put the phone away.
Hearing his non sequitur question, Luo Wenzhou slowly breathed out a smoke ring. "What would be going on with me?"
Fei Du was silent for a moment. Over the phone, Luo Wenzhou heard his light, lengthy breaths. They lingered in his ear, for no reason calming him down.
Unfortunately, he hadn't been calm for two seconds when chaos suddenly erupted in the background on Fei Du's end of the phone. Someone cried out something, followed by hasty footsteps and a babble of voices.
Fei Du looked up and saw Zhou Huaijin kneeling on the floor. Reading the body language of the medical personnel, he already knew the outcome of the rescue efforts.
The Zhou Clan was Heng'ai Hospital's major financial backer. No one dared to slight them. One after another they made a production of coming up to help Zhou Huaijin to his feet. The director of the hospital and the heads of all the departments also shortly came over one after another. Their "condolences" sounded like a group of frogs in a pond after it had rained, croaking unanimously.
Fei Du, holding up the phone connected to Luo Wenzhou, thought clearly, "It looks like Zhou Huaixin is gone."
As soon as the thought appeared, there was a lurch in his heart, like driving over a pebble in the road.
"I think that based on your abilities, it should have been very easy to chase down Dong Xiaoqing." Without blinking, Fei Du stared at the dark doors of the operating room. At the same time, he spoke to Luo Wenzhou in a steady voice. "You've been involved in many hostage situations. It's impossible that you wouldn't be able to calm down a knife-wielding girl. Even if she'd planned to finish herself off after she'd killed him, I believe that if she'd only hesitated for a second, it would have been enough of an opportunity for you to subdue her. So why did she die? Did something unexpected happen?"
Fei Du's wholly unwavering voice was like a bowl of warm water, pouring into Luo Wenzhou's ear over the phone signal. For some reason, his restless emotions were rinsed clean by these brief words. Luo Wenzhou put out his cigarette, pressed his thumb to his forehead, and for no reason at all very much wanted to see Fei Du.
"I can't explain clearly in a few words—my colleagues from the bureau are already at Heng'ai Hospital. What's going on with Zhou Huaijin? Did he confess anything?"
"He confessed. He planned the kidnapping himself."
"Fine. Tell them to get him under control and take him back to the City Bureau." Luo Wenzhou paused, then added, "Wait for me at the hospital."
Fei Du seemed not to notice the softened voice that last sentence was spoken in. He hung up and went to Zhou Huaijin's side.
There were no tears on Zhou Huaijin's face. There was hardly any expression. He was only staring at the operating room in disbelief…until a person covered in a white sheet was pushed out. Suddenly he found the strength somewhere to force apart the people trying to hold him back, heedlessly throwing himself forward. His first reaction was to pull away the white sheet covering the face of the deceased, needing to see clearly for himself.
Zhou Huaixin lay there quietly, his face pale, somewhat ashen. He didn't seem anything like he had when he'd been alive. He put Fei Du in mind of a painting he'd bought from him.—The painting was of an intersection on a bustling high street. Upright buildings and billboards had been carelessly daubed with big gray blobs of varying thickness. The street was filled with walking skeletons, each brightly dressed in a different style of clothing, separating the skeletons by sex, age, and social class.
Zhou Huaixin's artistic abilities were limited, neither here not there. He normally chose subjects that would make people think anyone who hung them in his living room was crazy. Quite a few of the people who bought his paintings had only done it to curry favor with him, and after buying them had put them in the bottom of a chest to gather dust. Fei Du and his other drinking buddies had jeered at him when they'd bought paintings, often asking him, "Great Master Zhou, when are you going to die? When you die, this painting will really appreciate!"
Now it was all right. For those paintings lying under beds, in basements, in storage rooms, the greatest news that would raise their stock had finally arrived; they had hope of seeing the light of day again.
"President Zhou! Don't look, President Zhou!"
Everyone hurriedly tried to pull Zhou Huaijin away. Zhou Huaijin's lips trembled. He seemed not to have reacted yet.
Fei Du looked him up and down. "President Zhou."
Amid the chaos, Zhou Huaijin with difficulty pulled together the remains of his intelligence and looked at him weakly. "I… Forgive me, I'm… My head's not quite…"
Just then, the police came in. Having received Luo Wenzhou's notification, they wanted to take Zhou Huaijin away.
Fei Du stood with his back to them, lightly waving a hand, indicating that they should wait a moment. He himself went over to Zhou Huaijin and said, "They have their procedures for handling cases. I'm afraid I'll have to trouble you to go with them. President Zhou, believe me, I can look after Huaixin for you for the moment."
Zhou Huaijin's gaze swept over the surrounding policemen. He seemed to want to turn back to look at Zhou Huaixin again, but perhaps he didn't dare; whatever the reason, in the end, he still hadn't looked.
At this point, past the initial shock, Zhou Huaijin was once again instinctively preserving his image in front of outsiders. He shook off his bodyguards' support and stood up straight, nodding to Fei Du. "Then I'll ask you to help."
Fei Du calmly jabbed another knife into his heart. "Huaixin defended you with his life because he hoped you would live well. President Zhou, look after yourself."
Zhou Huaijin had his back to him. His footsteps tottered.
"Oh, right." Fei Du looked at his back. "There's another rather important matter I just forgot to mention—in fact, when we tested Yang Bo and the Venerable Zhou's blood relationship, we also collected samples from you and Huaixin. President Zhou, I don't know how complicated your family relationships are, but DNA is simple and clear."
Zhou Huaijin's pupils contracted. When Fei Du's voice paused, he had a certain dim premonition and turned around.
Fei Du made a show of shaking his head pityingly, covering up the trace of a smile at the corners of his lips. "It's very strange. The results of the paternity test were clear. You're Zhou Junmao's son."
There was a moment where it seemed that Zhou Huaijin didn't understand Chinese. He stared numbly at Fei Du. Then his disordered reflex arc managed to run its course, and he immediately leapt up and grabbed Fei Du's collar, incoherently saying, "What did you say? Say…say it again…"
When a person's inner world came tumbling down, you could see a magnificent sight by looking into his eyes, like an avalanche on a high mountain, a tornado sweeping over a village, a tsunami dozens of meters high grandly striking land, a meteor shower falling down—
Fei Du clearly felt that incomparable pleasure, what sadists and serial killers had jointly pursued in fascination from time immemorial.
The criminal policemen next to them suspected Zhou Huaijin wanted to assault him and quickly swarmed around, getting him under control. Zhou Huaijin, reported to always show a graceful bearing in front of others, crumbled, yelling, "No! No! Say it again! Impossible!"
"Are you all right?" A policeman helped Fei Du keep his footing.
"I'm all right." Fei Du straightened his collar. "Look after him. If you really can't control him, sedate him. Don't worry. When he wakes up, he'll tell you everything.—You've worked hard. Go ahead now. I'll wait for Captain Luo."
The policeman heard him, nodded, and hastily went after his colleagues. Having gone a dozen steps, for some reason, he turned back to look at Fei Du and felt an inexplicable trace of terror.
Fei Du methodically made arrangements for dealing with Zhou Huaixin's remains. He notified the medical examiner, then cleverly shook off the director of Heng'ai Hospital, who wanted to question him about the circumstances. He waited at the hospital door for Luo Wenzhou to come.
Luo Wenzhou had been afraid he wouldn't be able to stand the sight of blood and had simply taken care of all his visible wounds. He'd been prepared to take a dehydrated Fei Du straight to the hospital. But Fei Du was not only in one piece, there was even a rare trace of rosiness on his usually pale face.
The two of them briefly exchanged information—Luo Wenzhou hesitated, then concealed what Dong Xiaoqing had said to him, while Fei Du roughly summarized Zhou Huaijin's confession, omitting how he had step by step forced Zhou Huaijin to the point of collapse.
After hearing the Zhou family's bizarre wealthy family drama, Luo Wenzhou looked sidelong at Fei Du and couldn't resist saying, "So your so-called fear of blood was also just you messing with me?"
Fei Du smiled without answering. He only said, "Shixiong probably isn't in the mood to go out with me today. Could I trouble you to take me home?—To the villa. You've been there before."
Fei Du's activities were normally in the city, and he lived in a mid-sized apartment near the conglomerate. Luo Wenzhou stared for a moment, then realized that Fei Du meant the house his mother had died in. "What do you want to go there for?"
Treasuring words like gold, Fei Du said, "Things to do."
Luo Wenzhou frowned, dimly sensing that there was something not very normal about Fei Du.—After he'd learned about Dong Xiaoqing's death, his first reaction had been to call back and ask Luo Wenzhou what was going on with him, but now, seeing him covered in blooming bruises, he hadn't asked a single question. A person who normally talked so much nonsense, he was now leaning back in the passenger's seat, not saying a word, resting his eyes.
It wasn't at all far from Heng'ai Hospital to Fei Du's family's villa. Without traffic, it was a twenty-minute trip. Luo Wenzhou stopped the service car at the gate of the gloomy and magnificent residence. He poked Fei Du. "We're here."
Fei Du opened his eyes; his gaze was so cold his eyes seemed to be made of inorganic material. He didn't even say thank you, only wordlessly opened the car door and made to go.
Luo Wenzhou finally couldn't resist grabbing Fei Du's wrist. "Wait. What's the matter with you?"
Fei Du struggled, but naturally he couldn't shake him off. He sighed, seeming extremely exhausted. Almost inaudibly, he said, "Let me go."
The more Luo Wenzhou looked at him, the more he thought something was wrong. Of course he didn't stop worrying and let go. "You…"
He'd only said one word when the next instant he was pushed back against the driver's seat. The wounds on Luo Wenzhou's back throbbed with pain, half-immobilizing him and pinning him to the spot. Ice-cold lips stopped his breath—
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Author's Note:
(5) That is, Black Cat Detective. One-Ear is a villainous mouse who lost his ear in a police raid.