After spending another week at home, Fang Mu headed back to school early.
When he arrived at his dorm, he was surprised to find that the majority of students were already back. Du Yu had been the earliest. He had only stayed at home for a week before rushing back to school; though in his case it was because Zhang Yao was spending her summer break on campus, temping for a translation agency.
When Fang Mu opened the door, he again saw Du Yu and Zhang Yao hurriedly roll off one another.
Jeez, he thought, it's the middle of the day.
Acting as if he hadn't seen anything, Fang Mu sat on his bed, took a bottle of meat sauce out of his bag and handed it to Du Yu. "Here," he said. "My mom made this especially for you."
But before Du Yu had a chance to take it, Zhang Yao grabbed it out of Fang Mu's hands.
"I'll hold onto this," she said, and then glanced to Fang Mu. "Your mom's meat sauce is so delicious."
Helplessly, Du Yu just looked at Fang Mu and smiled.
Fang Mu laughed. "You should have said something. I would have told my mom to make some more."
"Then the next time you go home you better not forget," she said.
"Deal." Fang Mu smiled.
Zhang Yao laughed. "You know, you're actually quite handsome when you smile. When I have time I'm going to find you a girlfriend."
Fang Mu just laughed and waved away the idea.
When Fang Mu went to the bathroom to wash his face, he ran into Liu Jianjun, who was hand washing a pair of pants in a big basin, with a rolled-up basketball magazine in his mouth.
"You're back?" he said, words garbled behind the magazine.
"Yep," said Fang Mu, splashing cold water on his face.
"Has the case been solved?"
"What case?"
"Qu Weiqiang and his girlfriend. The double homicide."
"How would I know?"
"Man, I don't know when they're going to crack that thing. Goddamn tragedy." With that, Liu Jianjun stumbled out, taking all of his things with him.
Back in his room, Fang Mu really wanted to give Tai Wei a call, but after hesitating for a long time, he abandoned the idea.
In fact, the case was far from solved. While Fang Mu was sitting around at home, dying of boredom, the officers of the Jiangbin City State Enterprise and Nonprofit Institution Investigative Division had been working day and night with little success.
Over a month had passed since the murders, and in that time police had already traveled several times to both Linjiang City in Jilin province, the registered permanent residence of victim Qu Weiqiang, and Hegang City in Heilongjiang province, the registered permanent residence of victim Wang Qian. There they had investigated nearly a thousand people, and still the crime was no closer to being solved than on the day it was committed. Above all, the police were puzzled by a single question: what was the motive?
It was clear from the crime scene that nothing had been stolen. The several hundred renminbi lying in one of the drawers hadn't been touched, nor had the victims' cell phones, jewelry or other valuable objects. As a result, the possibility that this was a case of burglary ending in murder could essentially be eliminated.
Based on the brutality of the killings, revenge initially seemed a probable motive, but after repeated investigations, police could find no evidence that the victims had any enemies to speak of. Qu Weiqiang's parents were both laborers, while Wang Qian's father was a doctor and her mother a teacher. The possibility that some enmity from the parents' generation had led to the deaths of their children appeared unlikely.
If this was simply a forced entry, rape and murder case, then there were even more questions to answer. First, why dismember Wang Qian? If the reason was to conceal the body, why piece her back together and leave her lying on the floor? And what about the syringe in her left breast? Where did it come from and what did it mean?
Second, why bring Qu Weiqiang's body to the soccer field, cut off his hands, and then leave him there? The field was over a mile away from the scene of the crime and transporting him could not have been easy, so why go to all that trouble? If this was meant as a kind of challenge to the police, why not take the far lighter Wang Qian instead?
Although many questions remained unanswered, the police did feel certain about one thing: this was an exceedingly calm and intelligent killer. After breaking through the screen window, he had first killed the dead-drunk Qu Weiqiang (toxicology reports later showed the victim's blood-alcohol level to be extremely high) by striking him with a blunt object. Then he raped Wang Qian, strangled her to death, hacked her apart and pieced her back together, cleaned the apartment, carried Qu Weiqiang's corpse to the soccer field, and cut off his hands. From the state of the crime scene it was clear that the killer had been methodical in everything-even the bathroom where he dismembered Wang Qian had been scrubbed so clean that the police could not find the smallest clue.
Analyzing the crime through the lens of criminal psychology, the killer's murder methods had been extremely rigorous-and this rigor seemed to please him greatly. This meant he was highly likely to kill again.
To the police, this was a terrifying prediction.
CHAPTER 12
Catching a cold during the hottest days of summer is notoriously unpleasant.
So early one morning, Tang Yu’e walked into the JiangbinCityUniversityHospital, wiping her nose every few steps. She felt good enough about the place; it was near her home, well-maintained, and, most importantly, cheap.
The problem was that the doctors' attitudes were not quite as caring as the plaque on the wall of the outpatient services entry hall promised. After speaking with a Dr. Cao, who asked her a few hurried questions and then wrote out several prescriptions, Tang Yu’e was sent to the nurses' station and told to ask for an IV.
The young nurse who intubated her was brusquely mechanical in her methods. It hurt a lot. Minutes later, Tang Yu’e was holding up her own IV bag and wandering the halls with a look of irritation, searching for the observation room. She hadn't gone ten steps before her arm was sore. Just as she was struggling to continue, a white-coated male doctor wearing a surgical mask appeared. With one hand he retrieved the IV bag from her outstretched arm, while with the other he helped her along, saying, "This way, ma'am." His voice was warm and friendly and lovely to hear.
The doctor led Tang Yu’e to Observation Room 2. No one else was inside. After helping hang her IV bag on the hook beside the chair, he placed a soft cushion beneath her.
"Thank you, young man," she said.
The doctor waved his hand to say she needn't be so polite. His eyes twinkled behind his glasses-he was obviously smiling. After helping Tang Yu’e get comfortable, he opened the door and left.
When the doctor returned he was carrying a cup of water. He placed it in Tang Yu’e's hand. It was ice-cold.
"You should drink this water, ma'am. It's so hot out today and there's no air conditioning in here. This will help you cool off."
"Thank you so much, young man. What's your name? I'd like to tell the hospital director how good you've been to me." Having never received this kind of treatment there before, Tang Yu’e felt a little overwhelmed.
But the doctor just waved his hand again, his eyes as lively as before, and then he turned and left.
Tang Yu’e was already planning on telling her husband how nice this man had been when she got home. She sipped the water. Ah, she could feel its chill run all the way down to her stomach. Truly pleasant-though it did have a faintly medicinal taste. But perhaps all hospital water tasted like that. Regardless, she didn't think about the matter any further. To be well over 40 and have a young man treat her like that-how delightful.