by Gangxueyin
She followed their line of vision, sighed, and said, “What in the world do you see?” Suddenly, she froze. “Wait a minute. I see it!”
Han Yin stopped pacing and turned toward her. “What? See what?”
“You!” She said in a low voice.
“Me?” Han Yin stared blankly, then clapped his hands and shouted, “This was how the killer saw Yin Aijun’s head for the first time! He must have been among those Old Capital University students and teachers who identified her!”
With this sudden enlightenment, Han Yin felt invigorated and couldn’t help giving her a celebratory hug. Surprised, she stiffened. “What’s this all about?” she asked coldly.
“What? What? I was celebrating with you! What did you think it meant?”
“That better be all. If you were making a move on me, I’d break both your arms!” Gu Feifei was icy, even though she was just as excited as Han Yin. She lightly patted his shoulder and stepped aside.
They hurriedly returned to the forensic medicine office and searched the records to see who’d officially identified the deceased. Surprisingly, they discovered that Yu Meifen had signed her name upon making the identification. Han Yin looked at his watch. It was now very late, but it didn’t stop him from taking out his phone and calling Fu Changlin, who would know all about the people who’d identified Yin Aijun.
Fu Changlin sounded like he was half asleep, but when he heard about their theory, his voice came through loud and clear. He said that he’d been the one in charge of receiving the Old Capital University students and teachers identifying the remains of Yin Aijun. Originally, they’d just looked at some of the victim’s clothing in the reception room, which confirmed the identity of the body parts. However, one of the female students in this group strongly insisted on viewing the corpse, so they brought her into the autopsy room, where the pathologist placed the head on a small table. Fu Changlin took particular care in recalling this: Yin Aijun’s head was set vertically and facing to the south.
Han Yin thanked Fu Changlin and hung up. He repeated the information to Gu Feifei. She thought for a moment, then said, “I’ve inquired about the pathologist in charge of autopsies from that year, and he’s since died from some illness. So that only leaves Fu Changlin and Yu Meifen.”
“It couldn’t have been Fu Changlin!” sputtered Han Yin. “If he committed the crime, his only motivation would have been to arouse the attention of the police by imitating the crime, thus forcing a reinvestigation into the Yin Aijun case. So he only would have had to do this once. That would have been enough. Plus, his age doesn’t match.”
“So then it was Yu Meifen,” said Gu Feifei. She paused, then added, “But I heard Chief Ye say that you’d eliminated her as a suspect!”
“If it had been Yu Meifen, this would completely overturn my profiling report, but there’s very little probability of this. The characteristics of the case are extremely clear. Yu Meifen, hidden away in the deep mountains for many years, could not have done this. Of course, in theory, we can’t totally rule her out, but I suspect the killer is someone close to her!” Han Yin was very firm about this.
“You’re saying that Yu Meifen gave a detailed description of what she saw about the head to a person she trusted, and that person was the killer?” Gu Feifei heaved a deep sigh. “I really never expected that Yu Meifen would have become a key person in two dismembered corpse cases. It seems that we have to do everything we can to find her!”
Han Yin nodded, then called Ye Xi.
At some point, the drizzle outside the window stopped, and the dark clouds were drifting away. It looked as if tomorrow would be bright and sunny. If only the Wang Li case offered the same hope.
The next day at the task force meeting
The meeting had just gotten underway when PSB Chief Wu suddenly came in the room, an imposing look on his face. He whispered in Ye Xi’s ear and took the lead in presiding over the meeting. Everyone knew a major decision was going to be announced. Han Yin’s heart beat in his throat. He was worried that the chief hadn’t been able to withstand the pressure from the higher-ups and needed to find a fall guy for the present case. Ye Xi would clearly be the scapegoat, and she might be taken off the case.
Chief Wu’s stern gaze swept the room. He cleared his throat and said in a deep voice, “After a discussion with the bureau party committee and with the agreement of the municipal party committee, it has been decided to make the details of this serial killer case known to the public.” The bureau chief paused, then said, “I know this will present great difficulties for the task force in solving this case, and all kinds of interference and pressures will mount from the public. But we can’t let the masses be harmed again. We’re responsible for reminding our citizens, especially our female comrades who work night shifts, to pay attention to personal safety and proper dress and to walk in groups.”
So Han Yin had worried for nothing. The bureau chief’s vehement rhetoric relieved him, but his feelings remained complicated. He sincerely admired the courage of the J City government and police force to bear the pressure and their sense of responsibility for the personal safety of the citizens. However, just as Chief Wu had said, this would definitely make solving the case more difficult. In the second case, the killer showed signs of rapid escalation. Thus, it was likely that the killer’s lusts would only swell more. His desire to “perform” would reach new heights of intensity. So, in potential future crimes, details such as the woman’s face, red clothing, and long curly hair might no longer be important. What would be important, though, is how to control the situation and manipulate the way the police handle the case. Of course, his crime-marking behaviors would not change, as that was his signature. He wanted attention from everyone. He needed to tell the world that each strike was part of his masterpiece.
Chief Wu left the meeting, and Ye Xi took over. She announced that all groups would immediately cease their current tasks and concentrate on finding Yu Meifen. The united forces of the police substations and posts would blanket the city’s dense residential districts. They would visit all real estate brokers, penetrate all neighborhoods and households, and question everyone meticulously until she was found.
30
CORPUS DELICTI
2:40 p.m.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Yu Meifen was finally found. However, when Han Yin and Ye Xi saw her, she was nothing more than a piece of evidence.
Yu Meifen was dead.
Her naked body was lying face up on the white tiled floor of a bathhouse. Her head was slightly tilted to the side and resting in a dark-red pool of blood. She was a few feet from a large white bathtub. Along the rim of the tub was a streak of blood, and blood spatters were all over the walls.
“Rigor mortis had eased to a great extent,” Gu Feifei said to Han Yin and Ye Xi. “The body shows signs of partial decay, particularly in the right lower abdominal wall and groin, where there were dark-green patches. The time of death would have been forty-eight to seventy-two hours ago, so either May first or May second. However, the victim’s waterproof watch can further establish the time. It had been broken by the fall and stopped May first around eight o’clock. Lividity is mainly concentrated on the spine, showing she’d not been moved after death. The cause of death is very clear: severe occipital bone fracture. The wound is in the shape of a line consistent with the edge of the bathtub. The blood sprayed in patterns and long streaks, indicating that the deceased person was alive at the time of the fall and that the body was moving. She died from slipping or being shoved. The latter requires a comprehensive consideration of external evidence.”
According to the landlord, who’d informed the police of the death, the room had been rented to Yu Meifen in February, and she’d been the sole occupant. On that afternoon, he dropped by to read the utility meter and discovered the body.
There were no signs of a struggle, but the desktop computer had been forced open, and the hard drive apparently taken. No cell phone was found, but he
r purse containing her ID and a credit card was still there, as well as several hundred yuan. Several fingerprints were lifted from the room. There was no sign of forced entry. If she had been murdered, the killer was let in after knocking or had his own key or the door was left unlocked. Whoever stole the hard drive and potentially murdered Yu Meifen was most likely someone she knew.
The landlord was eliminated as a possible suspect. Ye Xi told Kang Xiaobei to quickly follow up on the credit card before the bank closed and to retrieve her credit card records.
Shortly afterward, news from the bank arrived. The transfer records showed that beginning in February, a monthly sum of eight thousand yuan was transferred onto Yu Meifen’s credit card. The final transfer occurred on April 16. The transferor’s account was registered under the name Mou Fan. The identification number was verified, showing this was the same Mou Fan who was friends with Xu Sanpi, the bestselling author.
With the current evidence and loss of the hard drive and cell phone, for the time being it would seem that Mou Fan was the killer. The money flowing between Mou Fan and Yu Meifen was a key point of the investigation. For the Wang Li case, Han Yin and Ye Xi had met Mou Fan at Xu Sanpi’s dance party, and when the Yin Aijun case occurred, Mou Fan had been renting space near Old Capital University and had also been investigated. Did he have a connection to the Wang Li case? Earlier, Han Yin had felt that Mou Fan didn’t wholly fit within the scope of his report, so he’d never really been investigated. That may have been a huge oversight. Time was of the essence, so Han Yin and Ye Xi decided to visit Mou Fan and question him.
Dusk
The western suburbs. Near the high-end villas.
Although Mou Fan was now an author of some renown, it had taken a good amount of time to achieve that. Like many young people who harbor dreams of being writers, he’d spent years renting a place in the area around Old Capital University. Those were tough times for him. As he persevered writing novels, he had to support himself. He’d set up a bookstall near the university and sold gossip magazines, books, and stickers. When he had the stock, sometimes he’d sell small pieces of jewelry or fireworks—anything that might turn a profit. Years later, an editor noticed him, and he sold his first novel. The sales of the book were surprisingly poor. Critics were harsh, and reviews were not very good. This was a big blow to his confidence. After going through a tremendous low point, he met his future wife, a respected and well-known book planner. With her assistance and repackaging, his writing steadily improved and led to him writing a series of bestsellers, which earned him lots of royalties. He started living the high life. And like most of China’s new rich, he moved his wife and daughter overseas. But because he wanted independent space to generate creativity, he stayed behind in China.
Mou Fan loved smoking more than anything and always held a cigarette. Lately he’d become a fanatic about cigars, especially Cubans. The taste of that thick, distinctive tobacco leaf was like a muse for his writing. He was now sitting in the living room of his luxurious villa, tapping away on his laptop, occasionally savoring the Cohiba that cost him several hundred yuan. Every bit of him was engrossed in his new novel, and then the dreaded doorbell rang.
Ye Xi and Han Yin stood at the door.
The pungent smell of tobacco filled the living room and choked them so much that they both had minor coughing fits. Mou Fan turned off the air conditioner, threw open the windows, and extinguished his cigar in the ashtray.
“I apologize, but without this stuff I can’t write a word.” Mou Fan waved his two visitors to sit down on the sofa. “Would you like anything to drink? Tea, coffee?”
“No, thanks. Please, sit.” Ye Xi waved her hand, signaling him to sit. “Do you know Yu Meifen?”
“I do!” said Mou Fan.
“What kind of relationship do you have?”
“We’re friends. An ordinary friendly relationship.”
“I see. So why were you giving her eight thousand yuan every month?”
“Eh . . . um . . . she wasn’t in great shape financially, so I was just trying to help her out, that’s all.”
“That’s pretty generous for an ordinary friendship,” said Han Yin with a smile, as he picked up the family portrait on the coffee table. “Your daughter’s very lovely. You must love and miss her a lot.”
“Of course!” There wasn’t a hint of doubt in Mou Fan’s voice.
Han Yin put the portrait down and gazed into Mou Fan’s eyes. “Do you love your wife?”
“Of course I love my wife!” Then, with a stiff expression, he said, “My wife has been such a great help to me. We’re devoted to each other.”
Han Yin smiled again and said, “No need to exaggerate.”
Mou Fan was clearly displeased. He stared blankly at Han Yin. Then he lowered his head, deep in thought. Finally, he looked up again and shrugged. “All right, fine. She was my lover. I’ll respectfully ask you both to keep this a secret. If my wife finds out, I’ll lose everything. She made me, and she can break me.”
“When was the last time you and Yu Meifen were in contact?” asked Ye Xi.
“Last month, on the twentieth, I think.”
“That’s a long gap without talking, considering you were lovers.”
“She usually doesn’t call me, and I’ve been rushing to get this draft finished and haven’t been in the mood to see her. Anyway, what about her? Why are you here?”
“Mou Fan is dead,” Han Yin said.
“Dead? When? How?” Mou Fan’s eyes bulged in horror.
“We aren’t sure if she died accidentally or if she was murdered.” Then Ye Xi asked, “Where were you on May first at about eight o’clock in the evening, and what were you doing?”
“I was right here. I’ve been trying to finish my novel and haven’t gone out much.” Mou Fan was still in shock and, with an absent look, said, “How could this have happened? And you think I killed her?”
“This case will take some time to solve. There are many possibilities, so think carefully. Can anyone vouch for you having been here writing on that day?” Han Yin asked.
“All right. Let me think hard about it.”
Mou Fan appeared to be deep in thought. A heavy silence fell over the room. Han Yin’s attention was drawn to two newspapers spread out on the coffee table. A headline read: “Fight Between Author and Ghostwriter.” It seemed that Mou Fan, as a fellow writer, was very interested in this.
“Think of anyone?” Han Yin asked.
Mou Fan shook his head. Then, abruptly, he raised his hand and looked at his watch. With an apologetic look, he said he had a video conference with his editor at the publishing house. Then he got up to walk Han Yin and Ye Xi to the door.
They stood, and Han Yin pointed to the newspapers. “This ‘ghostwriter’ stuff has become quite the topic. But Master Mou doesn’t use a ghostwriter. Isn’t it tiring to write everything alone?”
This abrupt question caught Mou Fan off guard, but he gave a thin smile. “Not at all! It cheats the readers. I’d never do something like that!”
Han Yin smiled and nodded. Walking to the door, he thought of something else. He turned to Mou Fan and said, “Oh, right! Would Master Mou let me have one of his cigars? Everyone says they’re a real pick-me-up, and I’d like to give it a try.”
“No problem! Heck, I can give you a whole box!”
“No, no. One’s enough. I know how valuable they are. One’d be enough to get me locked up. A box would get me years!” said Han Yin with a chuckle.
“One cigar between friends is no big deal.”
Mou Fan went into another room and came back holding up a cigar, which he placed in Han Yin’s hand. Han Yin accepted it with great care, held it up, and expressed his thanks. Then he and Ye Xi left the villa.
They walked to the car and got in. Han Yin knew Ye Xi was bursting with curiosity. “Mou Fan has a lover for sure, but it’s not Yu Meifen. He was too uncertain at the thought of it. He’s hiding something even deeper.”
“What was he trying to hide? His real lover’s identity?” Ye Xi looked doubtful, paused, and said, “What’s the difference between his real lover and Yu Meifen? I doubt that his wife would treat him any differently if she ever found out.”
“We don’t want to focus too much on the ‘lover’ lead. He dared to dump Yu Meifen because his wife knew about her and was very understanding of it. So, even if we told her about our conversation today, she’d know what Mou Fan said hadn’t been the truth.”
Ye Xi was puzzled. “So why would he send her so much money every month?”
“Ghostwriting! Yu Meifen was likely his ghostwriter.” Han Yin pulled an evidence bag from his pocket and put the cigar into it. “The moment I mentioned a ghostwriter, Mou Fan pursed his lips, and his face took on an unnatural look. My question had clearly put pressure on him and made him tense.”
“Then that could explain the eight thousand yuan and the missing hard drive. Maybe he and Yu Meifen had an argument, so he wanted to destroy the evidence, meaning he had sufficient reason to kill. So you asked him for the cigar to get his fingerprints. But the prints we found at the scene ended up being hers. You’re not thinking of the corpse, are you?”
Han Yin smiled and nodded. Then he waved his hand. “Let’s get to the autopsy room!”
“So do you really think she was his ghostwriter?” Ye Xi asked as she started the car.
Han Yin thought for a moment. Then he said, “I don’t know his books very well, but we should follow any hunch.”
“Always such great thinking, my little cop!” Ye Xi laughed, gently patted his shoulder, and stepped on the gas.
At that moment, Han Yin seemed to see a swaying figure by the curb. It looked familiar, as if he’d seen it somewhere.
The municipal PSB autopsy room
Gu Feifei could have almost predicted Han Yin and Ye Xi’s request, so she’d not been in a hurry to perform the autopsy. She and her assistants had used plastic tubing to construct a rectangular frame covered with a plastic membrane to seal Yu Meifen’s corpse with a heated superglue inside.
