NOBODY COULD’VE ANTICIPATED that the spectacle at the police station would transition into a series of individual questionings. Every officer who was out investigating had to rush back to the station to take statements from the witnesses.
“That old bastard Yu Lei claims that, after he turned off the lights and went to bed last night, he overheard an argument while he was half asleep. It was between two men, both with strong accents. Their dialect was too heavy, so he didn’t understand what they were fighting about, but he could tell from their tones that they knew each other.” Lang Qiao brushed her long hair back over her shoulders. “We verified that Yu Lei’s house is very close to where the deceased was discovered—less than sixty yards away. He lives in a single-story house, so if his back window was open, he probably could have heard them.”
“What time?” asked Luo Wenzhou.
“We’re not sure. Yu Lei said that he goes to bed around nine and usually has no problem getting to sleep. If he was half asleep, it wouldn’t have been later than nine thirty, which fits our estimated time of death. His neighbors say they heard the arguing too, vaguely. Since there are lots of drunken fights around the area, they didn’t think anything of it. None went out to check.”
“Lao-Luo.” Tao Ran stuck his head in. There was a bandage on his chin. “We have someone here who you should come see.”
A small, thin youth had been seated in another room for questioning. He was being interviewed by Xiao Haiyang, who sat across from him, his glasses now held together by clear tape.
“The kid’s name is Ma Xiaowei,” said Tao Ran. “He says he’s eighteen, but he looks underage to me. The brawl this afternoon started when he stole five yuan. He was He Zhongyi’s roommate. It’s very likely he was the last person to see the deceased alive.”
Luo Wenzhou nodded. He pushed the door open and went in. Ma Xiaowei swiftly glanced up at him. A hint of panic crossed his young face, perhaps because of Sergeant Luo’s overpowering aura.
“It’s fine,” Xiao Haiyang told the kid. “Keep going.”
Ma Xiaowei clasped his hands together. His voice sounded like the buzz of a mosquito. “He…He Zhongyi was from H— Province, same as one of our other roommates. But apparently H— is big, and they were from different towns. Zhongyi-ge’s hometown was a bit farther out. He only got here last year. Nice guy, extrovert. Pretty diligent when we were living together too, always cleaning up… He n-never fought with anyone.”
Xiao Haiyang continued to question him. “Do you know whether he had any friends or relatives around here?”
Ma Xiaowei’s chin dipped for an instant, as if he’d suddenly thought of something. Then he quickly shook his head. “D-don’t know. I never met any.”
Liar. With his eyes fixed on the kid, Luo Wenzhou broke in. “Where were you from eight to ten last night?”
Ma Xiaowei gulped. He still didn’t dare to look at Luo Wenzhou. “At h-home…” he mumbled hesitantly.
“What were you doing at home?”
“N-nothing, just…watching TV.”
“Alone?”
Ma Xiaowei seemed to realize what Luo Wenzhou was implying. His expression abruptly changed.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Luo Wenzhou pulled out the chair and sat in front of Ma Xiaowei, smiling pleasantly. “We’re from the serious-crimes division. We only take care of major criminal cases. You won’t get sentenced for trying to steal five yuan, so relax.”
That seemed to agitate Ma Xiaowei even worse. He could barely sit still.
“Come to think of it, though, if there were multiple thefts and no sign of the thief going straight, they could get charged even if the amount wasn’t bigger than that. This was your first theft, though, right?”
Ma Xiaowei looked so scared that he seemed to forget how to breathe.
Luo Wenzhou rapped the table lightly. “So you were watching TV alone? What about your housemates?”
“Zh…Zhongyi-ge changed and left as soon as he got back from work yesterday, and Liu-ge—that’s the guy from Zhongyi’s home province—he went back home a few days ago for a funeral. And the other workers I live with, uh, went out to play mahjong or poker or something. So I was a-alone, b-but it wasn’t me—”
“I didn’t say it was,” Luo Wenzhou said, cutting off Ma Xiaowei’s stammering. “Neighbors said that they heard an argument near the crime scene. Based on its proximity to your place, you should’ve been able to make it out too. Did you hear anything?”
Ma Xiaowei bit his lip hard.
“If you did, say yes; if you didn’t, say no. Do you really need to think this long about it?”
“M-maybe I heard something, but the TV was a little too—”
“Around what time?”
“Nine fifteen,” Ma Xiaowei blurted.
The instant he said these words, everyone—from Xiao Haiyang, who was taking notes with his head down, to Tao Ran, who stood listening by the door—turned to stare at him.
Luo Wenzhou squinted. Then his gaze, sharp as an awl, fell on Ma Xiaowei. After a moment, he barked a short laugh. “Didn’t you just say you ‘maybe’ heard it? How’d you remember the exact time, then?”
Ma Xiaowei had no answer.
“Xiao-Ma, you need to be honest,” Tao Ran said softly. “How did you know that it was nine fifteen? Did you just hear the argument, or were you near the scene itself?”
“You know,” Luo Wenzhou added, not giving Ma Xiaowei time to respond, “if you don’t clear this up today, you’ll be suspected of a serious crime!”
“I believe it wasn’t you,” added Tao Ran, playing along obligingly with Luo Wenzhou’s good-cop-bad-cop routine. “And if you didn’t do it, you have no reason to be scared. Just tell us what you know. This is a major case—a man is dead. You know how serious this is, right?”
Ma Xiaowei instinctively turned his pleading eyes toward Tao Ran. Luo Wenzhou slammed the table. “Who are you looking at? We’re asking you to ’fess up!”
“It wasn’t me… I h-heard it,” Ma Xiaowei insisted, on the verge of tears. “At nine fifteen, I heard people arguing downstairs. Their voices sounded familiar, so I thought I’d go down and look…”
“What’d you see?”
“Nothing.” Ma Xiaowei’s eyes widened. “I didn’t see anyone, not even a hint of someone’s shadow. It was like everything I’d heard was a hallucination. The streetlight was broken, and I… I…”
Luo Wenzhou snorted. “You telling us a ghost story, kid?”
When Ma Xiaowei turned to him in fear, his eyes were reddened and so visibly bloodshot that they appeared covered in a scarlet net.