Nouvel An chinois

Chapitre 10

“Mr. Luo, I’m afraid you’ll have to come to the station with me,” Zhang Zhi said.

"Detective Zhang, my husband is back. Let's cancel the police report and let him rest," Xiaoju said anxiously.

“Mrs. Luo, it’s not about that. We need Mr. Luo to come back with us to provide some clues for something else.” Zhang Zhi avoided Xiao Ju’s tearful eyes.

"Xiaoju, I'll be right back, don't worry." Luo Xiuqing felt that Zhang Zhi was a little different today, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why.

"Then let's go." Zhang Zhi didn't intend for Luo Xiuqing to rest.

"Zhang Zhi, can't we go tomorrow?" Jiaming felt sorry for his sister.

"I'm sorry, I'm just following the director's orders."

"Can I go with him?" Jiaming felt that things seemed more serious than he had imagined.

Zhang Zhi hesitated for a moment, then said, "Jiaming, I'm afraid that won't work."

An awkward silence filled the room. Xiaoju was too worried to speak, and could only hold tightly to her husband's arm.

"It's alright, Xiaoju, I'll be right back with Detective Zhang." Luo Xiuqing gently pulled down his wife's hand. "Make me something nice to eat, I'm hungry, I'll be back in a bit."

Xiaoju knew it was useless to stop them, and watched helplessly as her husband and Zhang Zhi walked out of the room one after the other. The moment the car started, Xiaoju finally burst into tears.

"Jianrou, please take care of Xiaoju for me. I'm going out for a bit." Jiaming suddenly remembered something urgent. "Don't worry, little sister, I won't let anything happen to Xiuqing."

Jiaming left too, leaving only two women in the room. Xiaoju, exhausted from crying, leaned against Jianrou's shoulder.

"Jian Rou, will Xiu Qing be alright?"

"No, Jiaming just said so. Don't worry, Xiaoju." Jianrou's shoulders felt a little numb.

Zhang Zhi remained silent the entire way. He couldn't forget everything he had just witnessed. He once again deeply realized that when disaster strikes, the most painful people are not those who are attacked, but their loved ones.

Luo Xiuqing tried to speak several times, but didn't know what to say. Even if she asked, Zhang Zhi wouldn't and couldn't give her any answer. Luo Xiuqing simply closed her eyes to rest, but her mind was a jumble of thoughts, and she couldn't truly relax.

Upon arriving at the police station, Luo Xiuqing was led to an empty room containing only a chair, and the upper half of one wall was entirely covered in mirrors. The young policeman who brought him there didn't say a word, turned and left, closing the door behind him with a "click."

Luo Xiuqing didn't sit down in the chair; instead, he stood in front of the mirror, examining himself. Suddenly, he had an idea: he wanted to punch the mirror and smash it.

On the other side of the mirror were the police chief, Zhang Zhi, and a girl. The girl's large, dark eyes were swollen like peaches, and she burst into hysterical tears the moment she saw Luo Xiuqing appear.

The doctor gave the girl a sedative and took her away.

"So, what are your thoughts?" the police chief asked Zhang Zhi.

"The witness's reaction was indeed strong, but she is still not mentally sound and cannot testify. This does not prove that Luo Xiuqing is the criminal. Further investigation is needed."

“All the recent cases are related to Licheng Trading Company, and I’m under a lot of pressure from above. This time we have witnesses, so you have to step up your efforts to break through and not let me down.”

"Yes, Chief."

The police chief nodded and left the room.

Zhang Zhi lit a cigarette and looked at Luo Xiuqing through the mirror. For a moment, he felt as if Luo Xiuqing was also looking at him, with a bitter smile on her face. But after a brief moment of surprise, Zhang Zhi realized it was just an illusion; Luo Xiuqing was simply smiling bitterly at her reflection in the mirror.

Two hours later, Zhang Zhi entered the room with the mirror.

"Is there anything you want to say to me?" Zhang Zhi asked.

"I don't know what you want to know. Has something happened?"

"Yes, Wu Dazhong from your company was murdered."

"Wu Dazhong?" Luo Xiuqing murmured, unable to recall who it was.

"It's your head of the general affairs department," Zhang Zhi reminded him.

"Old Wu?" Luo Xiuqing slumped into a chair. "You think I killed him?"

"Unless you can prove you didn't kill him last night."

"But what makes you think I'm the murderer? What evidence do you have?"

“We wouldn’t have invited you here if we didn’t have evidence. The law values evidence, and you have the opportunity to prove your innocence.”

Luo Xiuqing fell silent, pondering how to recount his experiences the previous night. How could he explain something he himself didn't understand? After working together for so long, he still couldn't recall Old Wu's name. A perfectly healthy man was dead. Luo Xiuqing felt his stomach clench, his mind filled with the image of the dead watchman's bloodshot eyes and pale feet protruding from the reed mat. Old Wu, too, lay in the cold morgue, just like that man. And he himself might very well be Old Wu's murderer.

"Where were you last night?" Zhang Zhi broke the silence.

“Last night, the four of us were supposed to go see a ballet performance, but then I suddenly had a stomachache. I thought I was sick, so I left.”

Zhang Zhi remained silent, watching Luo Xiuqing quietly, waiting for him to continue his story.

"Later, I fainted, then I saw my wife, and then I fell into a deep sleep again, not waking up until evening."

Where do you sleep?

"Bohai Hotel".

“Okay, if you remember anything else, feel free to contact me.” Zhang Zhi confirmed that Luo Xiuqing had finished her story. “We will investigate and collect evidence.”

"Detective Zhang, don't tell my wife that I've become a suspect."

Zhang Zhi didn't turn around and walked straight out of the room.

eighteen

Qi Shi Lin Western Restaurant & Bar.

Zhang Zhi had been sitting there for almost an hour. He had already been to the Bohai Hotel, but no one there admitted to having served Luo Xiuqing. The hotel records also showed no trace of Luo Xiuqing checking in. On the day he entered the police academy, their first lesson was that a police officer must be objective in handling cases, without any emotional bias. Emotionally, he didn't want to believe Luo Xiuqing was a murderer, but this so-called intuition couldn't be used as evidence. And as a police officer investigating a case, had he gone too far?

"Two depth charges." A voice rang in Zhang Zhi's ears.

Zhang Zhi knew it was Jiaming without even looking. He didn't say anything, picked up one of the cups, and drank it all in one gulp.

Jiaming looked at Zhang Zhi and finished the other glass.

“My brother-in-law wouldn’t kill anyone,” Jiaming said, as if talking to himself.

“I will not readily conclude that someone is guilty or innocent before I have sufficient evidence. If you want to help your brother-in-law, there are two things you can do: either find the real culprit or find evidence to prove his innocence.”

"You mean the current situation is very unfavorable for him?"

"There is both witness testimony and physical evidence."

"Physical evidence? What is it? The murder weapon?"

“You recognize this,” Zhang Zhi said, taking something out of his pocket and placing it on the counter. “It was left at the murder scene. I forgot to hand it in to the evidence department today, but I’ll do so tomorrow morning.”

Jiaming fell silent. He recognized the pipe; it was Luo Xiuqing's favorite. From frequent handling, it had become smooth and shiny. A thought flashed through Jiaming's mind, but it vanished so quickly that it was impossible to grasp.

"But this is too strange. Would such a careless murderer leave an item that could identify them at the crime scene?" Jiaming voiced his doubts while trying to recall the fleeting glimpse of light he had just seen.

"I want the truth too. I've said everything I needed to say. Bartender, check please." Zhang Zhi shouted to the bartender, pushing all the empty glasses together.

Jiaming watched Zhang Zhi walk out of the bar, leaving six empty glasses on the table. Jiaming noticed a round object under each glass. Removing the glass revealed a specially made coaster with a badge bearing the four characters: Bohai Hotel.

The bell at the bar entrance jingled. Jiaming turned around and saw a dark-skinned man with his hat tucked into his arms, grinning at him. Jiaming recognized him; it was that hoodlum nicknamed Mudfish.

"Your name is Loach, right?"

"Yes, you are. Shall we go?" Mudfish's eyes darted around as he looked at the coasters on the table and asked Jiaming.

Jiaming felt a surge of warmth in his heart. He understood that Zhang Zhi was indeed unable to personally exonerate Luo Xiuqing at the moment, but he had still arranged for Niqiu to contact him. A friend had gone to such lengths; there was truly nothing more to say. Besides, as a policeman, how could he possibly delay handing over the evidence?

To Jiaming and Niqiu's disappointment, the waiter on duty at the Bohai Hotel that day had already resigned and returned to his hometown.

The clues seemed to have all gone cold. Seeing Jiaming's disappointed look, Mudfish suddenly slapped his forehead and said, "Mr. Lin, let's go."

"Where are we going?" Jiaming followed Mudskipper, stumbling along the unfamiliar, pitch-black road.

"This kid has a lover in the underworld. Let's go find her; maybe we can find him there."

"We've arrived." Mudskipper stopped in front of a house across the street and knocked on the door.