The jet plane descended slowly, landing at the misty and rain-soaked Stansted Airport. Song Jie glanced at his watch—12:40 a.m.
As the plane taxied down the runway, he looked out at the dimly lit terminal building, a large, boxy structure with massive overhanging eaves, resembling a giant warehouse. The sight stirred up a wave of memories in his mind. In his younger days, he had flown into London on a budget airline that landed at this very airport. Built in the 1940s, the airport's classic design and perfect functionality had left a lasting impression on him back then, especially when sunlight streamed through the square skylights of the terminal, casting a bright yet gentle glow across the hall. Over twenty years had passed since then. Compared to the bustling, lively airport he remembered, it now seemed desolate and lifeless, with only a few planes on the tarmac. The place felt eerily deserted, like it had died. How things had changed.
"I've been here before—Stansted Airport. When I traveled to London as a student, this was where I landed," Song Jie said, surprised at the unexpected return to a familiar place.
"Yes, you're right. This is that small airport in the north of London. The local police said they'd meet us here," Eva Herzog said, looking out the window as she spoke.
"Why did they choose this place? It's much farther from the city than Heathrow," Song Jie asked, puzzled.
"Who knows why they picked it. You saw me double-checking with the London police before we took off—this was the confirmed location. Now we've ended up adding another 30 minutes to our trip. These unreliable Brits… let's hope they can at least be dependable when it comes to the important things."
The plane finished taxiing and entered the hangar as the cabin door slowly opened. Not far away, an old police car with flashing lights was parked, its two-tone paint job in a checkered pattern. However, much of the paint had peeled off, making it look like it had just been salvaged from a scrapyard.
Two British police officers were already waiting at the hatch. Both were in their early twenties. Despite wearing uniforms, one had his police cap tilted to the side, while the other hadn't bothered to button up his collar, revealing part of a blue jersey underneath, presumably from some football club or team. Song Jie wasn't a football fan, so he couldn't tell which team it was.
"Hello, welcome to London. I'm Officer Krucker, and this is Officer Bates," said the officer with the tilted cap, stepping forward to shake hands out of courtesy.
Song Jie thought to himself, British names sure are a mouthful—Krucker and Bates? Why do they sound so much like the long fairy tale " The Adventures of Shuke and Beta " The thought brought a faint smile to his face as he quickly reached out to shake hands with them.
"We've received orders to assist you. Based on the international judicial cooperation request submitted by the Bavarian police to the UK authorities, we'll accompany you to the British Museum to investigate this case. While in London, you don't have the authority to conduct independent investigations or take action without permission. Please cooperate with us in our work," Officer Krucker said.
"If you don't have any other questions, I suggest we head out now," Officer Bates added, gesturing toward their police car. The two officers' back-and-forth delivery made them sound like they were performing a talkshow.
"Understood," Eva Herzog replied calmly. Clearly uninterested in wasting time with small talk, Eva Herzog walked straight toward the car.
Great, now I've become an assistant to the assistants, thought Song Jie as he shrugged and followed her.
In the pitch-black night, fine drizzle fell outside, while inside the car, the breath of the four passengers had fogged up the windows. The two British officers sat in the front seats, one driving and the other in the passenger seat, chatting about that night's football match. They laughed out loud occasionally, punctuating their conversation with the occasional expletive. Meanwhile, in the back seat, Eva Herzog rested with her eyes closed.
Song Jie, who wasn't a football fan, found their conversation uninteresting. Half out of boredom and half out of curiosity, he couldn't help but ask, "Excuse me, but why did you pick us up here instead of at Heathrow Airport?"
"Stansted Airport hasn't been used for commercial flights in a long time. It's now exclusively for professional and government flights. " Krucker replied.
"Otherwise, how would we have been able to conveniently pick you up right from the hangar?" Bates added.
"When I came here twenty years ago, this place was bustling, full of planes. Tonight, it seems like there aren't many flights at all."
"That was back then. Nobody comes to London for tourism anymore," Krucker said.
"After the 'Second Great Pollution,' all the wealthy people fled the country. Naturally, London didn't need so many airports anymore. As for commercial flights, even Heathrow is more than enough now. The rest were either repurposed for government use or shut down, waiting to be demolished," Bates added in his usual bantering tone.
The two young officers answered flippantly, their London accents rising and falling melodically, as though they were performing an operatic dialogue.
"I don't mean to interrupt your chat, but could you drive faster?" Eva Herzog said impatiently from the back seat.
"This is already as fast as it gets. If it weren't for this lousy highway that hasn't been maintained in ages, we could go faster," Krucker replied.
"If you find it boring, feel free to rest. We've already informed the director of the British Museum, and he'll meet us there at two o'clock to assist with the investigation. No need to worry," Bates added in his usual nonchalant manner.
Eva Herzog closed her eyes again without responding. Song Jie also said nothing further. He wiped the fog from the window and glanced outside, but there was nothing to see—just darkness all around.
The worn-out police car, carrying the four of them, trudged through the rain and fog, heading toward the shadowy silhouette of London in the night.
As it turned out, the two young officers were true to their word. Before the clock struck two at the Tower of London, the car came to a steady stop in front of the British Museum.
The four of them filed through the black wrought-iron gate, crossed the front courtyard, and approached the main building of the museum. At two in the morning, the British Museum was eerily silent, a deathly stillness pervading the courtyard and plaza. Darkness blanketed the area, with no lights except for the faint echoes of their footsteps reverberating in the night.
Directly ahead of them loomed a colossal structure resembling an ancient Greek temple, grand and imposing. The façade stretched 112 meters across, supported by 44 towering Ionic columns, each standing 14 meters high and intricately carved. The columns framed a central triangular pediment. A broad, multi-tiered staircase led upward to a wide platform, where the museum's main entrance was located. Flanking the entrance were two brightly lit lamps, and beneath their glow stood two figures. The light streamed from behind them, casting their faces into shadow, leaving only their silhouettes visible from Song Jie and Eva Herzog's standing point.
The four ascended the steps and reached the platform, where they were greeted by Sophie Horden, the director of the British Museum, accompanied by her assistant, Mrs. Ellen Smith. Director Horden appeared to be in her sixties, her short white hair neatly styled. Though time had etched lines on her face, she retained an air of refined elegance. She wore a sleek leather-textured jacket and a matching long skirt. Standing at the center of the steps, she exuded a commanding presence, regal and dignified, like a queen overseeing her domain.
"Hello, welcome. I am Sophie Horden, the director, and this is my assistant, Mrs. Smith," the director began, introducing herself and the woman beside her—a slim, thirty-something lady dressed in a black suit.
"Hello, I'm Song Jie. I spoke with you on the phone earlier this evening. This is Officer Eva Herzog from Bavaria, who is in charge of investigating the theft of the Buddha head," Song Jie said, taking the lead for once and introducing himself first. His words, however, left Eva Herzog visibly stunned.
"You two know each other? And you talked on the phone?" Eva Herzog's emerald-green eyes widened in surprise as she looked at Song Jie as though he were some kind of extraterrestrial being.
The two British officers, indifferent to the moment's awkwardness, stepped forward and introduced themselves to the director and her assistant, briefly explaining their purpose. Clearly, they had already communicated beforehand, as it only took a few words for both sides to understand the situation.
Afterward, director Horden took a step forward, glancing at Eva Herzog and then at Song Jie. With a serious and deliberate tone, she said, "I was deeply saddened to hear about the theft of the precious Chinese Buddha head during the auction at Lake Constance. I first learned about it from the news. Shortly afterward, I was notified by the London police that there had been a report accusing our museum of being the mysterious consignor behind the artifact, and that officers from Germany would be visiting us to assist with the investigation. That's why we are here, waiting for your visit."
After finishing, the director glanced at the two officers and gave them a slight nod. Krucker and Bates, clearly pleased, returned the gesture with pride.
"However," director Horden continued, her tone cold and measured, "I must make it absolutely clear that our museum is not the mysterious consignor behind the Chinese Buddha head at the Lindau auction. The auction has nothing to do with us. I have already given a detailed statement to the London police when they came to investigate. But since you have come in person, to prevent further misunderstandings, I feel it necessary to reiterate this in front of both officers, as well as Dr. Song and Officer Eva Herzog. As for the case itself, I'm afraid I cannot be of further assistance."
Her voice was calm and devoid of emotion, as though she were simply stating a fact.
Eva Herzog was both shocked and disgusted by what she had just heard. After spending three hours getting here, she hadn't expected to be turned away with a single sentence before even stepping foot inside the museum. A wave of nausea churned in her stomach, and she felt as if she might throw up. She glanced around but couldn't make out the expression on Dr. Song's face in the shadows. However, under the distant lamplight, the two London police officers stood with indifferent expressions. Noticing Eva looking at them, they shrugged and nodded slightly, clearly signaling that they had already known the outcome. Their presence was merely a formality.
Is this where the trail ends? Eva felt as if she had suddenly plunged back into a thick, bottomless fog, her mind swirling with unanswered questions.
If it wasn't the British Museum, why did the auctioneer claim it was and direct us here? Before coming, Dr. Song had already spoken with the director—why didn't he tell her about it then? And if it really isn't the British Museum, where do we go from here?
Her mind was suddenly flooded with a torrent of questions, as if an overloaded circuit board had short-circuited, leaving her momentarily paralyzed, unsure of what to do next.
"So that's how it is. Well then, we've bothered you enough. We'll take our leave," Song Jie said cheerfully, cutting through the tension with an air of calm resignation.
The director and her assistant turned back toward the building without further comment, and the grand doors slowly swung shut behind them.
The two London police officers, feeling a palpable sense of relief, were clearly eager to leave but still maintained a polite tone.
"Well then, is there anything else we can do for you?" Krucker asked.
"If not, we'll head back to the station. You know, even for something like this, we still have to write a report and file it. Do you need a ride back to the airport?" Bates quickly added.
Despite the formal phrasing, their slightly upturned expressions betrayed their excitement at finally being able to call it a night. They were probably already contemplating which bar to hit for a drink after clocking out.
Eva Herzog was at a complete loss, her mind blank. She had no idea what to say. Before she could respond, Song Jie once again took the initiative. "There's nothing else we need. We'll grab a cab to the airport later. Thanks for your help. Goodbye."
The two officers accompanied them to the car, then, upon confirming they were off the hook, cheerfully hopped into their battered little police car and sped off into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.
Eva Herzog watched the police car disappear, slowly regaining her composure. Suddenly, she whirled around to face Song Jie, unleashing a barrage of questions that had been stuck in her throat:
"You spoke with the director before we came? You knew they weren't the mysterious consignor?"
Song Jie replied calmly, "You're right. They aren't."
Eva Herzog exploded, her voice filled with rage, "If you knew, why didn't you say something earlier? You could have told me at Friedrichshafen Airport! We didn't have to fly all the way to London! Now the trail is dead—completely dead! You wasted everyone's time, you idiot!" She turned around angrily, ready to storm off.
"Officer Herzog, please calm down," Song Jie said, grabbing her arm before she could leave.
"Calm down? We're out of time, and now we have to start all over again! I need to call my supervisor, report this mess, and lodge a formal complaint about you!" Eva Herzog shook off Song Jie's hand and pushed him back with a shove to his chest. Though she didn't like Song Jie much to begin with, she had been trying to remain civil. But in that moment, she felt an overwhelming urge to punch him.
Staggering slightly from the push, Song Jie quickly responded, "Relax, Officer Herzog. I suggest you hold off on making that call for now. Director Horden is waiting for us. Why don't we meet with her first? You can make your call afterward."
As he finished speaking, Song Jie gestured toward the museum entrance.
Following his gesture, Eva saw a slender figure standing by the stone pillars near the museum's entrance. Judging by the silhouette, it was the director's assistant Mrs Smith.
Eva Herzog was stunned. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She looked at the assistant, then back at Song Jie, feeling as though the world had suddenly spun out of control. Her mind was reeling, like a spinning top that had been tightly wound and abruptly released, barely managing to stay upright but utterly incapable of discerning direction.
Left with no other choice, Eva Herzog reluctantly followed Song Jie back up the steps and into the museum.