Mo Du (默读) - Silent Reading

Julien VII

Lang Qiao charged into the City Bureau building carrying a folding umbrella, leaving a string of sopping wet footprints.

She slipped on her way up the stairs and nearly fell on her face; desperately grabbing the railing, she looked up just in time to see Luo Wenzhou coming down from the floor Director Zhang’s office was on.

Luo Wenzhou met her eyes, his face unusually grave.

Lang Qiao twisted her wet bangs off her forehead. “Chief, what is the matter? When you look so serious, I start getting nervous.”

“Today, following a lead given to them by He Zhongyi’s roommate, Tao Ran and the sub-bureau’s Little Glasses deduced that He Zhongyi may have encountered a mysterious individual before his death,” Luo Wenzhou said quietly. “For certain reasons, this individual apparently had a slight conflict with He Zhongyi while he was working. Afterwards, as a formal apology, this person gave him that cell phone.”

Luo Wenzhou was tall and long-legged; he walked very quickly. Lang Qiao had to trot to keep up with him. Hearing his words, she felt her brains were about to evaporate along with the water in her hair. Somewhat hazily, she repeated, “A slight conflict? And…a phone for that? I have conflicts with people on the subway every day, how come no one’s ever given me a phone?”

For once Luo Wenzhou didn’t caught her joke. “Tao Ran and Xiao Haiyang went back to the distribution center the victim worked at to investigate. They made inquiries along his delivery route and finally found an eye-witness in the shopfront of one of the chain coffee shops. The witness said that some time back, when He Zhongyi had finished making his deliveries and was getting ready to leave, he really did get into a fight with someone not far from the shop’s door. The shop’s security camera happened to catch the person’s license plate number.”

As they spoke, the two of them had arrived outside an interrogation room. Through the one-way glass, they could see Tao Ran sitting across from a young man.

He was around twenty, with hair dyed the color of flax, dressed in luxury brand name clothes. He was clearly desperately trying to force down his anger; fury was nearly steaming out of the seven apertures of his face.

“Yes, I may have beat up this loser, so what? I’ve beat up a lot of people. But this really has nothing to do with me. If you don’t believe me, ask Fei Du. Didn’t we go together that night? Officer Tao, let me tell you, if it weren’t for Master Fei’s sake, you guys arresting me like this, I fucking… I’d already…”

Lang Qiao looked blankly at the aggressive young man in the interrogation room. “This is the second suspect? Why have you brought him to the City Bureau?”

“On the night he died, the victim had said he was going to a place called Chengguang Mansion. That person in there was at Chengguang Mansion that day.” Luo Wenzhou sighed. “His name is Zhang Donglai. He’s the son of a rather prestigious local businessman.”

“Oh. A rich kid.” Lang Qiao blinked. “So?”

“He’s also Director Zhang’s nephew,” said Luo Wenzhou.

Lang Qiao stared.

Before she could restart her blue-screened brain, a civil policeman on duty ran over and quietly said to Luo Wenzhou, “Captain Luo, there’s a Mr. Fei here, says he wants to see Deputy Tao.”

Fei Du politely thanked the duty officer who had poured him a drink. He took it and drank a mouthful, then put it aside—the coffee they had poured him was instant, and it had a peculiar flavor of sesame oil.

He looked around at the décor inside the City Bureau; he felt that it was all in poor taste, and badly made to boot. There were flecks of paint on the corner of the table; it had probably just been painted. There was still a faint smell.