The two policemen rose to their feet and said their goodbyes. But when they were about to leave, the one who had been silent throughout turned back to Professor Qiao and, pointing at Fang Mu, said: "So this one's your student, too?"
Professor Qiao raised his eyebrows. "That's right," he said, a hint of arrogance in his tone.
The policeman said nothing further, just glanced at Fang Mu one more time, and then turned and followed Bian Ping out of the room.
After returning to his room, Fang Mu sat at his desk for a long time, staring at nothing. Other than smoke cigarette after cigarette, he didn't move an inch.
Then the door opened and Du Yu appeared, a grin on his face. As soon as he entered the room he began to cough.
"Jeez, keep smoking like this and you'll get cancer if you're not careful," he said, opening the door to aerate the room. "Brother, if you're trying to kill yourself, you've picked an awfully slow method."
Fang Mu said nothing, just smiled bitterly, his brows knitted together.
Du Yu's appearance made him realize that this whole time he had been reflecting on the case files he had seen that afternoon. Even now his mental state was much as it had been while in Professor Qiao's office. It was as if a second Fang Mu had quietly emerged within him while he wasn't paying attention, and then had taken over his whole being. This feeling had changed the very nature of his thoughts, and just as any addictive habit that had taken a stronghold, it was difficult to break.
This lack of control was terrifying.
Du Yu walked over and cautiously looked down at Fang Mu.
"What's up with you?" he asked.
"With me? Nothing, I'm fine."
"Then why are you wearing that same gloomy look as before? If something's on your mind you should let it out."
Fang Mu shut his eyes, but then a moment later he opened them and smiled. "It's really nothing. Let's go get something to eat."
CHAPTER 14
The Jin family household was already in a panic.
Holding a cordless phone in his hand, Jin Bingshan anxiously paced back and forth in his living room. On the sofa behind him sat his wife, Yang Qin, her eyes red from crying, along with several female coworkers who were supporting her limp frame and babbling all sorts of worthless words of consolation.
Jin Bingshan looked at the clock on the wall. It was already almost 10 p.m. He turned his attention back to the phone and dialed forcefully. Seeing this, Yang Qin stopped crying and struggled upright, looking expectantly at the phone in her husband's hand.
The call went through. After speaking briefly to the person on the other end, Jin Bingshan hung up. He turned toward his wife, but unable to meet her eyes, just shook his head.
With the piercing wail of an injured animal, Yang Qin collapsed back on the couch. As the sobs reached her throat, she began to choke and her face went bright red.
Jin Bingshan hurried over and began hitting his wife soundly on the back. A moment later she coughed violently, and then burst out crying once more.
"I don't care what you have to do, Jin Bingshan," she said, pointing a finger as skinny as a chicken's talon at her husband, "you are finding our daughter and bringing her home! What kind of father are you, ignoring your child for the sake of some goddamned clients?" Grabbing a pillow, she hurled it at him.
Jin Bingshan let the pillow bounce off of him and drop to the floor. At that moment, his normally dignified, understanding wife, an assistant professor at the university, had become little more than a screaming shrew. Looking at her, he felt his heart fill with immense grief.
Turning away, he glanced quickly around the room and then yelled, "Little Chen!"
Little Chen, his driver, immediately scurried out of the kitchen. Wiping instant noodle soup from his mouth, he said, "I'm here, Boss Jin."
"Do we still have more missing person notices?"
"A few."
"Then let's go. We're going to make one hundred more copies and then paste them up."
Saying this, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. While putting on his shoes, he looked back at his wife. She was crying soundlessly on the shoulder of one of her coworkers. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped out.
By the time he returned, it was already two in the morning. Jin Bingshan quietly opened the door to his apartment. The light in the living room was still on, but the room was empty. He tiptoed to his bedroom door and quietly pushed it open. His wife was already asleep on the bed, her face streaked with tears. In one hand she clutched a piece of their daughter's clothing.
Jin Bingshan's heart was seized with pain. After a moment, he carefully shut the door and returned to the living room. He stood there dazed for a moment, and then took off his ripped jacket and lay down on the couch.
While posting the notices, he had gotten into an argument with several security guards, and one of them, a young punk, grabbed one of his daughter's missing person photos and ripped it to pieces. Enraged, Jin Bingshan struck the kid, and as a result he and his driver Little Chen were beaten up. Later, after they were dragged into the local police substation and questioned, the officers on duty decided not to give Jin Bingshan any more trouble, and let him off with only a warning.
After sleeping restlessly on the sofa for a few hours, Jin Bingshan got up and decided to post the remaining notices in a more distant location. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to open the door, only to discover that something was blocking it from the other side. Then with a strong push he opened it. In the hallway sat a large cardboard box.
Jin Bingshan froze for an instant, and then, instinctively, began tearing off the tape sealing it closed. As soon as he peeled back the lid, a putrid scent shot forth.
His daughter, Jin Qiao, was curled inside, her body stark naked and covered with wounds.
In the courtyard of the Public Security Bureau, Tai Wei and his fellow officers had just switched on their sirens and were about to leave when Tai Wei saw Zhao Yonggui rush out of the building and into another police car. Hurriedly rolling down the window, Tai Wei called out. "Where are you off to, Old Zhao?"
"HegangCity," he said, and then without another word stepped on the gas and peeled out.
Seeing the smug look on Old Zhao's face, Tai Wei figured the guy must have finally gotten a lead.
Tai Wei thought about the still-unsolved hospital murder case, and then about his destination that night. At last he gave a tired wave of his arm and said, "Let's head out."
Once more they were driving to JiangbinCityUniversity. Tai Wei didn't know what in the world was wrong with this school, but in the last three months, two students and the wife of a staff member had already been killed. And from what he had heard, this time the deceased was a professor's daughter.
It can't be a curse, thought Tai Wei. That kind of thing just doesn't happen.
The squad cars flew through the city and before long they had reached the JiangbinCityUniversity campus. Tall buildings stood on either side as far as the eye could see, giving the campus a very modern, impressive air. But to Tai Wei, these peaceful ivory towers now appeared enshrouded by a dense and gloomy haze, which, although it was a sunny morning, seemed to be spreading a somber chill through the air.
Tai Wei knew that because of the nature of their work, many of his fellow officers carried some sort of protective talisman on them, and in the past he had always been quick to laugh at their superstitious nature. But now, speeding toward JiangbinCityUniversity, he felt a nameless terror come over him, and deeply wished he had some good luck type of object to hold and calm his fears.