Silent reading mo du vol.., p.25
Silent Reading: Mo Du Vol. 1, page 25
Lang Qiao glanced up. Her pupils constricted as she said, “Give it to me!”
Through her glove, she carefully accepted the jar, her heart lurching as she shivered in this damp, cold basement. The jar contained a dirty, greasy sleeve protector. The grease that had gotten on it all those years ago still picked up the light of the floor lamp, and beneath it, Lang Qiao made out the faint lines of the original floral pattern.
The scanned photos that the town police had sent over had shown the arsonist wearing a single sleeve protector!
When the police arrived on the scene all those years ago, they’d immediately apprehended that suspect and taken that photo. According to Wang Xiujuan, Zhao Haochang had been notified only after the accident had occurred; at that point, he’d rushed back home. By the time he arrived, the police had already cleaned up the aftermath of the fire. Everything was already over.
But the sleeve protector belonging to the “village idiot” was here, in Zhao Haochang’s possession. That meant that before the police arrived, Zhao Haochang had to be home to come into contact with the person who’d set the fire and get one of the guy’s sleeve protectors… Then he watched as the fire swallowed his family alive, pretending to rush back from the county seat several hours later!
“Xiao-Lang,” someone called from over at the farthest-right cabinet. “Come take a look at this!”
***
BY SATURDAY EVENING, Zhao Haochang had spent a difficult day and night at the station. He’d been up all night and now had enough stubble and oil on his face to ruin even the most beautiful visage. Despite his rather haggard look, however, he continued to sit still, expressionless. When he saw Luo Wenzhou walk in with a file folder, Zhao Haochang even raised his chin a bit proudly.
“Hello, Mr. Zhao. I’ll start by briefly going over two things. One: Twenty-four hours haven’t yet passed, so you and I can still have a little chat. Two: No one’s preventing you from getting a lawyer, no one’s forcing you to say anything, and no one’s torturing you, right? And of course, if you try to claim that the cafeteria here harmed your appetite, you’ll unfortunately be out of luck; we really don’t have the budget for takeout. Do you object to any of that, Mr. Zhao?”
Luo Wenzhou hadn’t even sat down yet, and he’d already sabotaged Zhao Haochang’s opening monologue. The corner of one of Zhao Haochang’s eyes twitched; Luo Wenzhou’s attitude seemed to have angered him.
“Sorry—you look kind of familiar, but I don’t remember you,” Zhao Haochang said with deliberate disrespect. “How should I address you?”
He didn’t manage to get Luo Wenzhou’s goat. In fact, Luo Wenzhou burst into laughter. After sitting down, he lazily shifted and answered indifferently, “Me? You look so smart—why don’t you take a guess?”
Zhao Haochang had been sitting for too long. He felt stiff all over, and that discomfort affected what should’ve been an easy, icy smirk; his lips curled slightly unnaturally instead. “Is that necessary? I don’t think we’ll need to get too familiar with each other.”
Luo Wenzhou spun his pen around in his hand. “In the middle of the night, you snuck into the East Side’s twin towers, loosened Tower A’s railing, and nearly caused—”
Before he finished, Zhao Haochang cut in impatiently. “I already said that I didn’t know someone would happen to try to jump right then and there. If you’re accusing me of destroying municipal property and endangering the public, okay, I admit it. I’m sorry. I can write a self-criticism report,19 or you can fine me. Not everyone’s salary comes from taxpayer money, Officer. Those of us who do actual work face a lot of pressure. Sometimes, to blow off some steam, we do things we’re not proud of. I’ve learned my lesson, all right? Please don’t make me repeat the exact same thing every time a new person comes in.”
Taking in this rant, Luo Wenzhou smiled. “I’ve done this for a few years now, and I’ve rarely seen a suspect as cool as you, Mr. Zhao.”
“Please weigh your words carefully, Officer Whatever-Your-Name-Is,” Zhao Haochang said in a frosty tone. “Why are you calling me a suspect?”
Luo Wenzhou stopped smiling and crossed his arms. “I’d like to ask you a few things, Mr. Zhao.”
Watching Luo Wenzhou’s body language, Zhao Haochang nodded “graciously” and gestured for him to go ahead.
“Now, that woman who nearly fell off the roof recognized you in a photo. She said that your name used to be Zhao Fengnian and you two both came from the same place. Is that right?”
When Zhao Haochang heard the name “Zhao Fengnian,” his breathing grew noticeably heavier. His pale face was as stony as a slab of rock, and he glared daggers at Luo Wenzhou, his gaze dripping with poison.
Luo Wenzhou remained unmoved, however. He glanced through the file calmly. “Following her testimony, we did a brief investigation on you. You were born in a relatively remote village near T— City in H— Province. You once went by the name Zhao Fengnian. Your parents, who were disabled, worked on their own farm. You had three younger siblings, and you had a hard upbringing.” With each sentence, Zhao Haochang’s expression grew colder.
Luo Wenzhou looked up at him. “You really didn’t have it easy, Mr. Zhao. Your village doesn’t produce many university students at all, does it? Never mind students who get into major schools? No wonder you’ve done so well for yourself. I’ve also noticed that you don’t have an accent. Is this how you speak at home too?”
Zhao Haochang’s hands, which were resting on the table, began to tremble. He looked ready to get up and punch Luo Wenzhou into the floor.
“Oh, I forgot,” Luo Wenzhou said, fanning the flames. “I heard that it’s been years since you last visited your village. That’s not good, Mr. Zhao. Your village put a lot of effort into raising you. How could you forget where you started?”
Zhao Haochang slammed his hands on the table, cutting Luo Wenzhou off. He tried to stand up but didn’t complete the action—though his butt had already left the chair, he instead leaned forward, like a beast ready to pounce. A few moments passed, and then, with incredible willpower, Zhao Haochang suppressed his rage and sat back down.
“Oh, really? A lot of effort? Unfortunately, I’m not really sure of that.” Every word that came out of his mouth seemed marked by his clenched teeth. “I left ages ago, so I don’t remember those people well. By the way, Officer, I funded my education with student loans and scholarships. And I saved up for my travel costs. I didn’t need anyone to raise me. As for whether I’ve gone back… That’s a bit beyond your jurisdiction, isn’t it?”
“Maintaining public order and helping people form good habits is part of the job,” Luo Wenzhou replied.
Zhao Haochang smirked. “So you guys are no more than a glorified neighborhood watch. No wonder so many major cases go unsolved.”
“I accept your criticism.” Having successfully provoked Zhao Haochang, Luo Wenzhou gave a disinterested shrug and changed the subject. “Speaking of major cases, I have something to ask you, Mr. Zhao.” As he spoke, he selected a photo from his file and set it in front of Zhao Haochang. “This girl is named Chen Yuan. A few months ago, she died of a drug overdose. She went to the same school as you.”
Furious as he was, Zhao Haochang didn’t expect Luo Wenzhou to suddenly change the subject. “What a pity,” he said dryly.
“The circumstances around her death were odd. Two weeks before she died, she contacted a university friend named Cui Ying and gave her important evidence implicating the director of the Huashi District Bureau in a crime.” Luo Wenzhou stared into Zhao Haochang’s eyes. “We just paid Cui Ying a visit, and she handed over the evidence. She also mentioned you.”
Zhao Haochang’s eyes flitted back and forth. He clenched his hands into tight fists on his knees as though trying to figure out where he’d made a mistake.
“Cui Ying said that she shared Chen Yuan’s story with you, and you stopped her from making a report. Is that true?”
“Yes.” Quickly coming up with a way out of this, Zhao Haochang straightened slightly. “I did watch that video. It was quite shocking. But where was I supposed to make a report to? A higher department? Officer, I’m sitting across from you, and I’m not sure you aren’t a wolf in sheep’s clothing. What if you’re actually working with them? Wouldn’t reporting it have been tantamount to walking into a trap? Common civilians’ abilities are limited. We can only focus on protecting ourselves. The lack of justice aside, is there anything wrong with wanting to survive?”
“No. That’s understandable. But after you learned about this crime, what did you do besides convince Cui Ying to stay mum?”
“I did a little investigating on my own,” Zhao Haochang replied. “But I was scared to dig too deep. Once, when I made a pretense of driving past, a few of the suspected drug dealers followed me for ages. I realized then how dangerous the situation was, and I warned Cui Ying not to talk about it.”
Luo Wenzhou leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Cui Ying said that you told her that, if she ever killed someone, she should dump their body at the drug-exchange point in Huashi—that way, the police wouldn’t even investigate. Is that true?”
The corner of Zhao Haochang’s eye started twitching again. “I’ve been good to Cui Ying,” he said expressionlessly. “She’s in the same program I was, and I’ve always tried to protect her. I don’t know why she’d say that. I was clearly just joking. I might’ve said it, I might not have—but being reported to the police just because of a joke and having it used against me… I can’t tell whether I’m in a modern, civilized society or suffering through a Qing-dynasty literary inquisition—”
Before he finished speaking, Luo Wenzhou interrupted, “Where were you on the night of May twentieth?”
Zhao Haochang answered without hesitation. “I went to Chengguang Mansion with my friends. Then a friend drove me back to my office. I didn’t leave there until near midnight.”
“Where’s your office?”
“Wenchang—”
Not letting Zhao Haochang finish, Luo Wenzhou pressed on with his aggressive questioning. “We acquired security footage from the Route Thirty-Four bus. The victim in the May twentieth case, He Zhongyi, got off the bus at Wenchang Road between nine and ten o’clock and was murdered not long after that. To muddy the waters, the murderer dumped the body on the West Side of Huashi—in what just so happened to be a drug exchange site. What do you have to say to that?”
Outside the interrogation room, Tao Ran spoke to Fei Du in a low voice. “Luo Wenzhou got the suspect riled up from the get-go. And he didn’t expect Cui Ying to betray him, so he lost control a little just now. He clearly panicked when Luo Wenzhou mentioned that bus footage.”
Fei Du adjusted his glasses. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here, Ge?”
“It’s fine. Deputy Lu approved it. He’s busy with Wang Hongliang or he’d have come to meet you.”
Fei Du thought about that and decided that he had zero interest in meeting some middle-aged man with a face full of wrinkles. He turned uncaringly back to the video feed, only to see Zhao Haochang’s expression change. For an instant, the suspect seemed frozen in his seat. Only a second later, though, it looked like he realized something. He smiled slyly.
“He’s hot-tempered and also gets offended more easily than other people, especially if someone pokes his weak spot.” Fei Du shook his head. “But he can still rein himself in and think things through calmly. What a genius. If he weren’t a suspect in this case, I’d pay good money for him to come work for me as a full-time legal consultant.”
“He got off at Wenchang Road,” Zhao Haochang repeated slowly inside the interrogation room. “And then? You guys have no idea what happened between when he got off the bus and when he was murdered, right?”
Luo Wenzhou slowly dropped his casual facade, his expression growing ugly.
“You guys have nothing.” Zhao Haochang leaned back in his chair slightly. “You think you’ll trick me into confessing to a crime with just a joke and some unconnected security footage?”
An uneasy silence stretched out in the tiny interrogation room. Luo Wenzhou remained silent as if there were no more tricks up his sleeve.
Zhao Haochang burst out laughing, then called Luo Wenzhou by name, as though he’d just remembered who this helpless officer was. “Sergeant Luo, you guys sure cut corners when it comes to solving cases.” He extended a wrist, revealing a diamond-encrusted watch, and tapped its face. “Your twenty-four hours are almost up. If that’s all you’ve got, can I leave early? If not, then I’ll settle for a bed. I want to lie down.”
For whatever reason, Luo Wenzhou felt that he didn’t like that watch-tapping. He watched Zhao Haochang silently.
His expression appeared to amuse Zhao Haochang to no end. The suspect had successfully controlled his fury, but he couldn’t hide his smugness. “Let me give you some advice, Sergeant Luo. Not everyone will fall for your long-outdated interrogation techniques. Don’t be so confident. No one smart would ever become a police officer. I mean, what’s the entry score for the Yancheng Public Security University? Is it even high enough for that school to be considered top-tier?”
As Zhao Haochang spoke, he stood and adjusted his collar theatrically.
“Zhao Fengnian, don’t be too pleased with yourself,” Luo Wenzhou said finally. His voice was light. “The basement of No. 12, Elegance Winery in the town of Bei’ershi, Xijiao, is still awaiting you.”
Zhao Haochang’s smile froze on his face.
Luo Wenzhou’s index finger tapped on the table a few times. “Can you explain why He Zhongyi’s old phone was at your house?”
The door of the interrogation room opened, and two expressionless police officers walked in. They moved to stand on either side of Zhao Haochang and pushed him back down into the seat. Then, with a clack, a pair of shining handcuffs closed over the man’s diamond-encrusted wrist.
Unexpectedly, the metal handcuffs and the metal watch band complemented each other. Both were gorgeous, ice-cold, and sharp.
Fei Du, who was simply watching everything unfold, suddenly squinted. “Your handcuffs sure are beautiful,” he observed. “Could you give me a pair?”
Tao Ran barely knew how to react. “What are you going to do with a pair of handcuffs?”
Fei Du turned back to look at him. As though he’d lost the ability to talk, he just gave Tao Ran a meaningful look, his alluring eyes curving slightly. It took Tao Ran a moment to catch on. The debauchery of the wealthy was a mystery to a traditional man like Deputy Tao, whose life revolved around working overtime and paying his mortgage. He felt as though his vision itself was contaminated anytime he saw Fei Du lean into his “playboy” act.
In light of that, he scolded Fei Du seriously. “If you’re going to continue to spout nonsense, you can leave.” Fei Du coughed dryly, but he put away his metaphorical horns and tail and returned to behaving himself, not interjecting again.
The cold cuffs made Zhao Haochang shiver. Once he’d collected himself, he kept trying to explain things. “Wait. What house—”
Luo Wenzhou interrupted coldly. “Do you want to claim that the house isn’t yours? Elegance Winery’s security cameras would disagree, Mr. Zhao.” At this point, Zhao Haochang was finally unable to keep the panic from his face, and the handcuffs rattled fiercely on his wrists. Luo Wenzhou savored the suspect’s expression, then added unhurriedly, “Besides, where did you get the idea that we didn’t know where He Zhongyi went after he got off the bus at Wenchang Road?”
“Th-that’s…impossible…”
“You’re suspected of first-degree murder and of trying to dispose of a body. You even tried to coerce an innocent woman into committing suicide because you were afraid that the victim’s family would recognize you. And you damaged the railing in case she got cold feet. On several occasions, you interfered with this investigation and attempted to mislead the police, then tried to pin it on others. We have undeniable proof of all this, Zhao Haochang. What do you have to say for yourself?” Luo Wenzhou looked up at Zhao Haochang, one corner of his mouth turned up in a taunting smirk, before ruthlessly hitting Zhao Haochang where he was most vulnerable. “You worked so hard all these years to make a name for yourself. You were only one step away from everything you’ve ever wanted, and with one slipup, you slid all the way down and became a murderer. What’s destined to be yours will always be yours; there’s no need to fight for what isn’t. Ah, Zhao Fengnian, I pity you.”
Zhao Haochang looked as if he’d been stabbed in the chest with a needle. Suddenly losing control, he started screaming hysterically. “What evidence have you got? Video footage of me murdering someone? My fingerprint, my DNA, on that phone? Zhang Donglai’s fingerprints were clear on that tie—isn’t that direct evidence? Which is more substantial? How dare you accuse me! Is it just because Zhang Donglai is related to your director? Just because he’s rich? Faking evidence, framing innocent people—you police are experts at that, aren’t you? How do I know you didn’t plant that phone—”
As Zhao Haochang finished yelling, he suddenly noticed Luo Wenzhou’s mocking gaze. At that point, he suddenly snapped out of it, his brain going blank. All his blood rushed to his stiff limbs.
Luo Wenzhou put his elbows on the table, and stared Zhao Haochang right in his bloodshot eyes. “Zhang Donglai’s fingerprints were clear on the tie? Mr. Zhao, you’re even better than our forensics department. They need to stand there with some machine for ages before they can determine who a fingerprint belongs to, but you know just by guessing?”
Zhao Haochang was completely immobile, cold sweat pouring down below his shiny hair. As the cool, damp air conditioning blew over him, he shuddered.
Luo Wenzhou snorted, looking like a cat that had finished toying with a mouse. He pushed his chair back and stood, apparently losing interest in Zhao Haochang, and nodded lazily at the two officers waiting to the side. “The suspect’s—we can call you the suspect now, right, Mr. Zhao?—criminality has been established. All that’s left are the details. Those won’t be hard. You guys can question him—I’m done here.”
