XU WENCHAO WAS a freelance videographer. He was very tall and seemed gentle and refined—an arguably appealing man. Understandably, he was a little nervous about being asked to come to the police station, and he kept fidgeting under the table.
Tao Ran poured him a cup of water. “We have no ulterior motives here. We just want to ask you to take a little trip down memory lane.”
Xu Wenchao bowed his head and pursed his lips. He accepted the water and thanked Tao Ran without making eye contact.
From their spot in front of the security monitor, Luo Wenzhou and Lang Qiao heard Tao Ran ask gently, “You went to Brocade Junior High?”
Xu Wenchao took a graceful sip of water. “Yes.”
“Do you remember your classmate Su Xiaolan?”
Xu Wenchao’s finger twitched. After a long silence, he said with difficulty, “Yes.”
“Can you tell me about her?”
There was no ambiguity to this question, but Xu Wenchao didn’t seem to understand. He froze for a moment. “Huh?”
“Talk about Su Xiaolan.”
“Oh.” Xu Wenchao balled a hand into a fist on his knee, then pinched his knuckles forcefully. “I-I haven’t talked to her in years. But she…she was a very happy, bright girl.” He searched through his memories, then managed to squeeze out, “She had long hair, and she liked to wear floral dresses.”
Everyone’s faces went tight—Tao Ran’s, Luo Wenzhou’s, and those of the others observing through the cameras.
Xu Wenchao suddenly stopped, looking back and forth between Tao Ran and the clerk taking notes. “You guys didn’t just call me here to ask about a middle-school classmate, right? It’s about that girl on the radio, isn’t it? I heard about that on the way here.”
“I’ll get straight to the point, then,” said Tao Ran. “What do you know about the case of Wu Guangchuan, who kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and murdered young girls?”
Xu Wenchao gathered his thoughts for a few moments. “Not much. I was still young at that time. Adults don’t usually let children know too much about that kind of thing.”
“One victim’s father said that Su Xiaolan was saved because you contacted him in the nick of time.”
“Uh… That was twenty years ago. I don’t really remember.”
“One of the fathers affected by the serial kidnapping case went to Brocade to investigate your teachers,” Tao Ran explained patiently. “He ran into you following Wu Guangchuan, so he asked you. You guys both suspected that Wu Guangchuan was up to no good, so you investigated him together. Do you remember that?”
Xu Wenchao was silent for a full minute. “Maybe,” he said finally. “Not really.”
Talking to him was incredibly difficult, but the police couldn’t force him to speak any more quickly—he wasn’t a criminal. All they could do was wait. He almost spoke as if he had some sort of intellectual disability—he needed to think about every answer for a long time, and then he gave only a vague reply, like “Maybe,” “Really?” “Perhaps,” or “I’m not sure.”
They went back and forth like this, with Tao Ran asking him tons of questions, for over an hour. In the process, Tao Ran drank two bottles of water. Xu Wenchao diligently played his part as the clueless fool with a distinct air of ethereal melancholy.
“I really want to hit him. Think he’s suspicious, Boss?” Lang Qiao asked.
“Just because he mentioned the words ‘floral dress’?” Luo Wenzhou shook his head. “Schools back then were pretty strict. Everyone had to wear a uniform, and girls had to have either neat ponytails or short bobs. But the standards were relaxed slightly for specific specialized students if their craft required a particular appearance. With all the other girls looking like plain country bumpkins and only Su Xiaolan wearing dresses with her long hair down, it’s natural that he’d remember those details. But…”
Inside the room, Tao Ran told Xu Wenchao, “I just think it’s a little weird. Wu Guangchuan’s case caused a huge commotion back in the day. You participated in it firsthand, so how come you don’t remember?”
Xu Wenchao smiled gently. “In junior high, I ran a really serious fever that wouldn’t break. I nearly died. I survived in the end, but it caused at least a little damage to my brain. My memory really suffered after that, and my reaction times have been very slow ever since. I’m sorry, Officer.”
The explanation sounded reasonable. Tao Ran shook his head helplessly. “Mr. Xu, are you married?”
Xu Wenchao shook his head.
“Where were you on the night of the twenty-seventh?”
This time, Xu Wenchao answered without hesitation. “At home.”
“By yourself?”
“Of course. I’m single.”
“What were you doing at home?”
“Reading. It was a book about photo composition.”
Tao Ran’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Can we access your dashcam for our investigation, Mr. Xu?”
“Certainly. It’s just outside.” Xu Wenchao pulled out his car keys, meeting Tao Ran’s eyes easily. “Have you got other questions? If we’re done, I can leave, right? I have work tomorrow, and I need to go home to prep.”
Tao Ran looked toward the camera. In his ear, Luo Wenzhou’s voice said, “Let him go. I’ve already arranged to have him under twenty-four-seven surveillance once he leaves.”
Tao Ran stood and shook Xu Wenchao’s hand. “Yes. Thank you for your cooperation. Let me walk you to the door.” Xu Wenchao visibly relaxed. Tao Ran gestured to usher him out, and he was leaving when Tao Ran said quietly and casually—as if it were idle chitchat—“I bet private schools are pretty strict. I hear the teachers are desperate for every student to make it to the next grade.”
“They just want you to study harder. It’s all right once you get used to it.”
“That means there’s no time for relationships, right? If you say an extra word to a girl, at least eight teachers will be watching. You have to keep a crush hidden.” Tao Ran gave Xu Wenchao a look, one hand on the doorframe. “Did you like anyone back then, Mr. Xu? A dancer like Su Xiaolan must’ve really stood out from the class, right?”
Xu Wenchao’s expression suddenly changed. He started picking nervously at the seam of his pants. Eventually, he forced a smile. “What guy didn’t like a pretty girl when they were young? But she’s passed away now, so talking about it is pointless. No need to see me out, Officer.”
Tao Ran smiled and nodded, saying no more. He’d only learned Su Xiaolan was dead when he tried to summon her to the station, and he’d never mentioned it to Xu Wenchao. Had Xu Wenchao, who “hadn’t talked to her in years,” heard that news from a classmate he was still friendly with, or…?
Xu Wenchao left quickly without looking back. Meanwhile, the officers on stakeout duty had already organized their shifts. Under cover of darkness, they silently followed him out.
✦ ✦ ✦
IT WAS PAST EIGHT O’CLOCK when Luo Wenzhou left the municipal bureau with slightly heavy footsteps.
He didn’t go straight home, however. Deputy Lu had said he would stay away to avoid a conflict of interest, but this situation was a far cry from what had happened with Director Zhang. Zhang Donglai was a relative of Director Zhang’s who’d been under significant suspicion. Deputy Lu, in contrast, had only been present for an old case. He hadn’t even been the one in charge of it. A person less meticulous than Deputy Lu might not even have bothered to step away.
Still, as his careful boss’s subordinate, Luo Wenzhou couldn’t be too relaxed, especially after he’d gone around questioning all those retired officers with Deputy Lu’s support. He decided to bring a box of peaches that he’d bought in Lianhuashan to Deputy Lu as an excuse to drop by and update him on the case. He called Deputy Lu and didn’t mention the case—only the peaches.
Lu Youliang agreed readily and gave him an address. “My wife’s coworker is getting married, and she didn’t tell me beforehand, so I’m visiting my sister’s place to mooch a meal off of her. You can just come here.”
Luo Wenzhou plugged Sunrise Road, North Yancheng into his car GPS.
✦ ✦ ✦
FLASHING HIS CAR LIGHTS, Fei Du saw that the road sign said that it was one more mile to Sunrise Road. He sighed. With all the congestion everywhere, the drive had taken six hours. There hadn’t even been any rest stops. His sore back had gone numb. Only now was the traffic letting up a little. Fei Du stepped on the gas, bringing his car to the speed limit and pondering how to apologize to Dr. Bai for being late.
But as he merged into a lane and was about to turn onto a side road, a car rushed at him out of nowhere. It didn’t brake as it approached him; in fact, it sped up. There was no time to veer away. Fei Du stomped on the brake.
His car shook violently, and noise exploded in his ears. The airbag pushed him back into the seat, and his vision went black as his organs did somersaults inside him. A sharp pain shot down his left arm. His consciousness went a little fuzzy for a couple of seconds. Then the sharp sounds of car honks and voices jolted him back to reality.