Chen Zheng had not expected that his first involvement in a frontline investigation after a year away would end up leading the investigation straight back to himself. Kong Bing’s reaction clearly showed that he regarded Chen Zheng as a suspect, and on brief consideration, the suspicion was not entirely unreasonable. After all, criminals returning to the scene after committing a crime had long been a familiar phenomenon to criminal investigators.
Chen Zheng wanted even more than Kong Bing did to know why Zeng Yan had come looking for him.
“Where were you on the night of October fourth, and what were you doing?” Kong Bing asked. “You really didn’t see Zeng Yan that day?”
Chen Zheng simply took Kong Bing and a technical investigation officer to Unit 9-3 of Building Three. After opening the door, he indicated the camera in the living room with his eyes. “You can see for yourselves where I was on the night of the fourth.”
Kong Bing looked somewhat surprised. “You live alone and still have a camera installed?”
Zhuquan City was, after all, a small place, and Kong Bing was no youngster. His thinking was relatively old-fashioned, so he found the idea of installing surveillance inside one’s own home difficult to understand.
“Is that a problem?” Chen Zheng turned on his computer and told the technical investigation officer he was free to view or copy whatever he needed. The officer became somewhat embarrassed instead. After checking the footage, he reported to Kong Bing, “Captain Kong, Chen… Teacher Chen arrived home at 6:45 p.m. on the fourth. He stayed home afterward and never went out.”
Kong Bing frowned at Chen Zheng. Chen Zheng poured himself a glass of water and shrugged at him.
Kong Bing asked, “What about the front door?”
The camera did not capture the area outside the apartment. Kong Bing’s thought was that when Zeng Yan had knocked on the floor above, Chen Zheng might perhaps have appeared near his own door. But the technical investigation officer shook his head. “Before Teacher Chen left home the next day, he never went near the door.”
Chen Zheng said bluntly, “I had no opportunity to commit the crime, and I didn’t know Zeng Yan had gone to the floor above mine. But since she came looking for me, that means I may be connected to this case somehow. If you need anything from me from here on, just call.”
Chen Zheng’s unruffled manner only made Kong Bing more impatient. “No need to wait for later. You’re coming with me now.”
It was already late at night, and most of the residents who had gathered to watch had dispersed. Further canvassing would have to wait until daylight. The Beiye Sub-bureau needed to consolidate and analyze the clues they currently had, so Kong Bing told Chen Zheng to return to the sub-bureau with him. Chen Zheng, however, remained standing downstairs from the Zeng residence. “I want to take another look inside Zeng Yan’s apartment.”
Based on their interactions so far, he had expected Kong Bing to make things difficult for him, and he had already thought of how to deal with that. Instead, Kong Bing glared at him aggressively but said something surprisingly reasonable. “You think there are still clues in Zeng Yan’s home?”
Chen Zheng said, “A crime scene never lacks clues.”
Kong Bing was silent for a moment before turning away. “Then I’ll have to trouble Captain Chen to stay behind and find them.”
Chen Zheng heard the sarcasm in his tone, but at least Kong Bing did not obstruct him in practice. Some of the sub-bureau officers left, and Chen Zheng returned to the kitchen of the Zeng residence. As he examined the scene, his thoughts briefly wandered to when exactly he had offended Kong Bing. Every time Kong Bing called him “Captain Chen,” he practically ground his teeth. Did he resent Chen Zheng’s former title as captain of Luocheng’s Criminal Investigation Detachment?
Chen Zheng pulled his thoughts back. This was no time to concern himself with interpersonal relationships. Zeng Yan’s body had already been removed. All that remained in the kitchen was the trash can and the markings left by the crime scene examiner. Residual blood showed that the killer had murdered Zeng Yan in the living room near the kitchen. The lock had not been damaged, which meant Zeng Yan herself had opened the door for the killer. But… why would Zeng Yan have let him in?
Chen Zheng had told Zeng Yan that he worked in law enforcement. Combined with the tense, frightened expression she had shown on the surveillance footage, it was highly possible that she had known she was in danger but, for some reason, could not call the police. On the night of the fourth, in her panic, she might have remembered that he could help her. She had gone to Building Three seeking help—help from a police officer.
Unfortunately, she had gone to the wrong floor.
The thought inevitably weighed on Chen Zheng. If Zeng Yan had found him, perhaps she might still have had a chance to survive.
If that were the case, however, the natural thing for Zeng Yan to do after returning home would have been to lock all the doors and windows. She should not have opened the door for the killer.
The contradiction filled Chen Zheng’s mind. Working backward from that contradiction, what if Zeng Yan had not been looking for him because she wanted help?
Chen Zheng moved through the rooms as he analyzed the possibilities. It had not yet been confirmed who the hair left in the bedroom belonged to, but judging from its length, it was highly likely to have come from a woman.
The sub-bureau had already completed its search of the apartment, yet Zeng Yan’s phone had not been found. In modern society, a phone stored almost all of a person’s information and privacy. Even if death had taken away her chance to cry out for herself, her phone could still communicate the truth to those searching for it. Yet the killer had most likely taken Zeng Yan’s phone after the murder, cutting off the police’s path to clues through the device.
Standing in the living room where the stench of decomposition had not yet dispersed, Chen Zheng felt that Zeng Yan was like a USB drive that had been formatted. After a moment, he pulled out half a pack of cigarettes and considered smoking one, only to put them away again several seconds later. This was Zeng Yan’s home. Even if they had not found her phone, there might still be other clues. Zeng Yan was not someone from the countryside who had come to the city alone to make a living. She lived in her parents’ home and had grown up here. Her story had to have left traces behind.
Under the somewhat surprised gazes of the sub-bureau officers, Chen Zheng began a second search. One officer could not help asking, “Teacher Chen, what are you looking for? We can help.”
Chen Zheng shook his head. His search had no specific target; experience would play the decisive role. The officers exchanged glances and left the somewhat eccentric researcher to work alone.
Halfway through the search, Chen Zheng began to sense that something was strange, not because of what he had found, but because of what he had not. Most people of the older generation had a habit of keeping photo albums, yet Chen Zheng could not find a single photograph. Zeng Yan’s father was dead, and she might have disposed of all his belongings, but would she really have kept no photographs at all? Unless the relationship between father and daughter had been exceptionally poor.
Because the missing photo albums bothered him, Chen Zheng opened every cabinet and carefully checked every corner, even pulling out the thick cotton bedding piled inside a closet. The old bedding gave off the musty smell of insect damage. Zeng Yan clearly had not touched it for a long time, and naturally, neither would the killer have tampered with it.
Yet when Chen Zheng shook open one of the thick pieces of bedding, a flat black rectangle fell out and struck the floor with a dull thud.
Chen Zheng frowned slightly and picked it up. A phone had actually been hidden inside thick bedding that had not been used in years.
The officers gathered around as well. “Why would a phone be in there? The killer didn’t take it?”
Chen Zheng pressed the power button, but nothing happened. The phone was switched off. He held the button down, and the screen lit up; it seemed capable of booting normally. While waiting for the system to start, Chen Zheng turned it over several times. The phone was a model from at least five years earlier. Its corners were badly worn, and the screen had several cracks. It was probably an old phone Zeng Yan had replaced but never thrown away.
Many people kept old phones at home as backups, so if the phone they were currently using failed, they would still have something for emergencies. But a device that had not been used regularly in recent years might contain no important clues at all.
After a somewhat lengthy startup, the phone finally became usable. Its wallpaper was a promotional still of a male celebrity. By coincidence, Chen Zheng knew both the actor and the drama. A narcotics television series had become enormously popular some time ago, and the actor played one of its heroic, fearless police officers, winning hearts from women old enough to be grandmothers all the way down to schoolgirls. Apparently, Zeng Yan had been a fan too.
The phone lagged badly, and apps crashed whenever they were opened, so it did not seem likely to help the investigation much. Yet Chen Zheng glanced toward the closet, his gaze deepening.
Why would a discarded phone be hidden somewhere like that? The police had overlooked it during their first search, and the killer would never have noticed it either. Had Zeng Yan been leaving the police one final clue?
Chen Zheng placed the phone in an evidence bag and planned to take it back to the sub-bureau so the technical investigation officers could examine it properly.
The sub-bureau’s case-review meeting continued until the early hours of the morning. After the autopsy, the forensic pathologist found that Zeng Yan’s stomach was empty, though she had consumed alcohol. DNA was recovered from the hair found in her bedroom, but there was no match in the system.
For the first time since moving to Zhuquan City, Chen Zheng entered the Beiye Sub-bureau. Old habits took over, and without thinking, he ordered a late-night meal for the criminal investigators working overtime.
At first, no one knew who had ordered the food. It arrived, so everyone simply ate. After finishing, Kong Bing went to throw away his container and loudly asked who had been so generous. Everyone looked at one another until their gazes finally converged on Chen Zheng, who had said nothing.
If it was none of them, then it could only have been him.
When Kong Bing learned that Chen Zheng had ordered the food, every feature on his face seemed to freeze. His reaction was so remarkable that Chen Zheng nearly laughed.
“No need to thank me.” Chen Zheng quickly pulled the conversation back to the case. “Did you find anything on the phone I brought back?”
Kong Bing had already heard from the others about Chen Zheng finding the phone. He stared at him for a moment before forcing out, “Thanks.”
Chen Zheng raised an eyebrow slightly.
Kong Bing called over a technical investigation officer, who displayed the data from Zeng Yan’s phone on a computer. There were no recent payment records on the device. Its photo gallery contained a large number of selfies, which did not quite fit the impression Zeng Yan gave people. The phone had first been used in March five years earlier; photographs predating that had been copied over from an even older device. Every photograph containing a person showed Zeng Yan alone. There were none with family or friends.
Chen Zheng asked, “None with her father?”
The technical investigation officer shook his head. “There might have been before, but anything deleted too long ago can’t be recovered. These, though, I restored. These four were all deleted on the night of the fourth.”
Of the four photographs, one showed an unfamiliar woman in her twenties. She had small eyes and wore pajamas, and the background was Zeng Yan’s bedroom. She was not looking at the camera; the photograph appeared to have been taken secretly.
The metadata showed that the photograph had been taken on the evening of August 10. The remaining three contained no people and merely showed fruit prices at a supermarket that day.
Chen Zheng propped his chin on one hand. If the picture had been taken secretly, why had Zeng Yan photographed this woman? Was she the same woman whose DNA had been found in Zeng Yan’s home? There were no other photographs taken before or after August 10, showing that Zeng Yan rarely used this old phone. Why had she used it that day? Then, on October 4, the night Zeng Yan was killed, the photographs were deleted. If the woman in the photograph were connected to Zeng Yan’s murder, one might assume the killer had deleted the images to erase information. But obviously, the killer had not even known this phone existed.
Only Zeng Yan herself could have deleted them.
Given that the phone had been hidden somewhere difficult to discover, perhaps this was a signal Zeng Yan had left for the police—she knew something was certain to happen to her, so she deleted the photographs. If the killer happened to find the phone, they would not immediately be able to see what had been deleted, but if the police found it, technical methods could restore the images.
That made the woman in the photograph an extremely important clue.
Kong Bing assigned the tasks for after daybreak. Finding the woman in the photograph was the priority, while officers would also continue canvassing the residential complex.
“You…” Kong Bing had just begun to assign something to Chen Zheng when Chen Zheng spoke first. “I’ll go back and talk with the neighborhood ladies some more. And there’s the snack alley. Plenty of people there resented Zeng Yan.”
In the mornings, the snack alley belonged to vegetable sellers and breakfast vendors. A little after six on the morning of the tenth, traffic was already flowing steadily through the area. Chen Zheng had been thinking about the case and barely slept all night, so he left home very early, intending to ask around about the vendors who had conflicts with Zeng Yan.
Yet someone had arrived even earlier. When he reached the snack alley, a group of middle-aged women had crowded around one stall and were shouting at the tops of their voices, as though a vendor had shortchanged someone at the scales and they were calling for others to judge the matter.
Chen Zheng hurried over. The crowd parted down the middle, and a scrawny man was shoved out by three women gripping his shoulders. He had a vicious-looking face and kept cursing, but there were simply too many people surrounding him, including several large older men. Unable to struggle free, he had no choice but to let himself be pushed around. A woman who looked like his wife shouted from behind, “How can you people be so unreasonable? What does any of this have to do with our Old Zheng?”
Old Zheng? Chen Zheng remembered that one of the three cold-dish vendors in the snack alley was surnamed Zheng. Residents had mentioned only the previous night that the Zheng family and Zeng Yan had never gotten along.
One of the women shouted loudly, “Whether it has anything to do with your Old Zheng, we’ll find out when he sees the police! Bullying that poor young woman all the time was bad enough, but now she’s dead. Stop pretending you’re innocent!”
Chen Zheng understood what had happened. When Zeng Yan’s body was first discovered the previous night, only a few residents had thought about the grudges among the cold-dish vendors. After an entire night for the idea to ferment, the well-meaning residents—especially these women who frequently patronized Zeng Yan’s stall—had become increasingly convinced that Old Zheng was suspicious. Before dawn, they had gathered their husbands and friends and come demanding an explanation.
Chen Zheng stepped closer while the two sides continued shouting over one another. He studied Old Zheng. The man was in his fifties, with a narrow, weaselly face and an unpleasant appearance. Being held bent forward made him look particularly sleazy.
“Everyone, I wanted to have a word with Old Zheng too. How about leaving him with me?”
Some of the women recognized Chen Zheng and knew he was a police officer. One immediately said, “Xiao Chen, perfect timing! We were just about to drag this murderer to the police station! Yanzi was killed by him!”
Old Zheng roared, “I’ll sue you for defamation! The police are here? Great! You take a look at what these shrews did to me! My wife and I were minding our own business selling food, and these people kicked over our stall! Zeng Yan died, so what? What the fuck does that have to do with me?”
“Do you have any humanity at all? She was a living, breathing person, and you can actually say, ‘What the fuck does that have to do with me?’”
Seeing that another fight was about to break out, Chen Zheng hurriedly separated the two sides. The local officers happened to arrive as well, so he told them to take Old Zheng and his wife back to the police station and asked three of the women who had led the confrontation to come along and give statements.
The women were extremely eager to help. Before Chen Zheng could even begin asking questions, they competed to tell him everything they knew.
Old Zheng’s full name was Zheng Xiangxue. Although his name sounded feminine, he was very much a grown man who liked throwing his weight around. Even before the snack alley had expanded to its current size, he had sold cold dishes there and boasted that his were second to none.
Zeng Yan had inherited her cold-dish stall from her father. Back when Old Zeng was alive, the Zheng and Zeng families kept out of each other’s way and generally lived in peace. After Old Zeng died, Zheng Xiangxue assumed he had finally lost a competitor and even ran lively discounts at his own stall for several days.
Zeng Yan was not even twenty then. Everyone assumed there was no way she could continue selling cold dishes like her father, and even if she did, the flavor would not be the same. Yet after handling her father’s funeral, Zeng Yan stubbornly reopened the stall. At first, the women patronized her simply because they pitied a young woman on her own. But once they tasted her food, they discovered that she had surpassed her father—it was even better than Old Zeng’s. She had also begun threading the dishes onto skewers, allowing younger customers who merely wanted a bite to buy two skewers and eat while walking. Gradually, the skewers became her signature, and more and more customers came to buy her cold dishes.
Zheng Xiangxue could not accept that after fighting Old Zeng to a draw, he had somehow lost business to a slip of a girl. During those early years, he frequently brought a group of middle-aged men to crowd around Zeng Yan’s stall. They did not actually lay hands on her, but they surrounded the stall, made filthy remarks, and spat everywhere. Younger women who encountered a scene like that generally stopped coming to buy from Zeng Yan. He also had his wife spread gossip about her everywhere. For a while, Zeng Yan’s business truly suffered.
The women could not stand watching it happen. Whenever they saw Zheng Xiangxue preparing to cause trouble, they arrived at Zeng Yan’s stall first. Once Zheng Xiangxue realized the tactic no longer worked and that his own reputation was worsening instead, he had no choice but to stop.
Over the past several years, Zheng Xiangxue had stopped openly harassing Zeng Yan, but as he grew older, his bad habits only worsened. He often threatened that sooner or later he would find someone to teach her a lesson. One woman had personally heard him say in an exceptionally filthy tone that since Zeng Yan liked skewers so much, once his buddies from the streets arrived, they would grab a handful of skewers and stick them into her…
The woman could not finish. She said furiously, “That Zheng Xiangxue isn’t even human! He should be shot!”
The anger of ordinary people was genuine and uncomplicated. Once they decided someone was the killer, they rarely changed their minds even when there was no evidence at all. A criminal investigator, however, had to coolly analyze every statement. Even when facing an utterly vicious bastard, they still had to let him finish speaking.
Chen Zheng asked the women to calm down and pushed open the door of the interview room where Zheng Xiangxue was being held. Zheng Xiangxue glared at him with reddened eyes. “Those women are stirring up trouble for nothing! I didn’t kill anyone!”
Chen Zheng pulled out a chair and sat down. “You were hostile toward Zeng Yan and said you would find someone to teach her a lesson. Is that true?”
The officer before him spoke mildly, which unexpectedly took some of the wind out of Zheng Xiangxue. He drew his hands together and rubbed them repeatedly. After half a minute, he stammered, “I—I said it, but it was just talk! If I say I want to kill somebody, does that mean I’ll actually do it?”
Chen Zheng asked, “What did Zeng Yan do to offend you?”
Zheng Xiangxue scratched irritably at his hair. “You know the saying, two tigers can’t share one mountain? If she weren’t around, my business would be better.”
“So your conflict was competition.”
“You could say that.”
Chen Zheng brought up the incidents the women had described. Zheng Xiangxue admitted to all of them. As he spoke, he became increasingly agitated and finally blurted out what he truly thought. “I just can’t stand that she’s a woman. What right does a woman have to climb over my head? I’ve eaten her cold dishes. How are they any better than mine? Putting them on skewers suddenly makes them delicious? She just cuts corners and pulls cheap tricks to attract attention!”
Chen Zheng asked again, “Where were you on the night of October fourth?”
“I went home after I finished selling!”
“What time?”
“Eight!”
Zheng Xiangxue explained that while most vendors in the snack alley stayed open late, his family was different. His wife had to get up early to sell rice noodle rolls, and he needed to help her, so their cold-dish stall opened early and closed early as well. The couple went to bed before ten every night.
Like Zeng Yan, Zheng Xiangxue lived in one of the old buildings inside the residential complex, though not in the same unit.
Chen Zheng said, “In other words, apart from your wife, no one can prove that you remained home all night on the fourth.”
Zheng Xiangxue shot to his feet. “What the hell do you mean? You’ve already decided I killed her? I didn’t! I fucking never left the house!”
Chen Zheng gestured for him to calm down, but Zheng Xiangxue could no longer do so. He shouted, “I didn’t kill anyone! You can’t pin it on me just because Zeng Yan died! If somebody killed her, then go investigate that dead bastard of a father of hers! He’s the one who killed people! A father’s debts are paid by his children—don’t you understand?”
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