The Untouched Crime

by Zijin Chen

They had planned to rush into Luo’s apartment the moment he opened the door so they could subdue Luo and collect evidence without interference. It was an effective way to frighten a suspect from the moment the police arrived—sometimes it even resulted in the suspect confessing on the spot.

  Yang didn’t expect Luo to keep the chain on when he opened the door. Instead of bursting into the apartment and scaring his suspect, Yang was still stuck outside, worried that he might have broken a bone.

  Luo sighed. If he hadn’t put on the chain, Yang’s attack would have sent him flying. He glared at them through the partially opened door. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  The policemen all looked awkward now. Their plan had seemed perfect; they hadn’t expected that a tiny chain lock would scupper it.

  Yang tried to look serious again and coughed. “We’re part of the Narcotics Division. We received a report suggesting that there are drugs hidden in your apartment. We need to search it.”

  He couldn’t believe they could get away with such a flimsy excuse.

  Yan didn’t teach them to say that, Luo thought. Luo didn’t drink or smoke; why would he take drugs? Only a novice would use that excuse to conduct a search without a warrant.

  Then he realized that this was probably a good sign. If they had to make up lame excuses, it meant they were trying to leave an out for themselves. That meant that they didn’t have any evidence, which meant that Huiru and Guo Yu were safe.

  Luo frowned slightly, sizing them up. “The Narcotics Division usually operates undercover. Why are you wearing your uniforms?”

  Yang was taken aback. But he had no choice but to continue the charade. “That’s enough from you. Open the door!” he growled.

  “There must be some mistake. Perhaps the tipoff was wrong? It might even be a prank,” Luo said calmly as he undid the chain. He made sure to stand to the side so that he wouldn’t be pinned against the wall.

  Yang was surprised again. Here was Luo, opening the door and allowing them to search his apartment!

  A serial killer wouldn’t do that in a million years. This couldn’t be the right person. There must have been some mistake.

  He still looked serious, but his demeanor was much politer. “We have to follow our investigation procedures, sir. We would appreciate your cooperation.”

  “Of course, of course.” Luo nodded.

  “Now, according to regulations, we need to search the entire premises. Would you please take us through all the rooms in your apartment?” Yang asked.

  “If you must. Where would you like to begin?” Luo said kindly.

  Luo followed the police through the bare rooms of his apartment. He noticed that they spent extra time on the walls, as if they hoped to discover a secret compartment.

  Half an hour later, the search was over. Yang’s gaze fell on the cross-body bag that was sitting on a table. “May I look through your bag?”

  “Of course,” Luo said, handing it over.

  Yang removed all of the bag’s contents. He found a pile of cash, multiple debit cards, a driver’s license, and resident identity card.

  Yang scrunched his lips in displeasure. “And your car?”

  “Yes. It’s in the parking garage. Come with me.”

  All they found were a few papers and some gifts given to him by a client.

  Yang felt very embarrassed. “I’m sorry, it looks like our tip was completely off base.”

  “That’s perfectly alright. It’s important to cooperate with police investigations. You must be exhausted, working outside in this heat!” Luo said.

  Yang smiled weakly. “Finally I need to take your fingerprints for our file.”

  “OK,” Luo said. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor. Now that we all know you came here in error, could you please let the property management staff know that it was a mistake? Otherwise they will suspect that I’m involved in a narcotics case.”

  “Of course we will,” Yang answered. The four officers left.

  Luo sighed as he closed the door to his apartment and looked out the window. “Well, Yan, I hope you’ve given up now,” he said quietly to himself.

  Chapter 57

  “You’re sure they’re not a match?” Zhao asked, looking first at Yang and then at Professor Yan, who was seated across from him.

  “Yes. They were completely different than the killer’s prints.”

  “Did you find anything else there?” Zhao asked.

  “We searched his apartment and his car from top to bottom, but we didn’t find any suspicious items. I’m not sure we could think of a reason to search his office,” Yang answered.

  “No jump ropes?” Zhao asked.

  “No jump ropes, no electric baton,” Yang said.

  “Did you check his bag?” Yan asked.

  “Yes. He had a lot of cash, some cards, and his ID,” Yang said.

  “How much cash?” Yan asked.

  “A couple thousand.”

  “Only a couple thousand yuan? Did he have cash anywhere else in his house?”

  “Yes, he had about twenty or thirty thousand yuan in a nightstand in his bedroom.”

  Yan considered the figure, then nodded.

  Zhao stroked his chin and dismissed Yang. He looked at Yan. “See? We didn’t find anything.”

  “I told you if you did this, it would just tip him off. You’re not going to get evidence this way.”

  “So how do you explain the prints?”

  “Fake,” Yan said, as if this was obvious.

  “His fingerprints are fake?” Zhao scowled. “Impossible.”

  “It’s quite easy. Employees who are required to scan their fingerprints at work will order a mold of their print so their colleagues can clock in for them. You can get them online now.”

  “I know all that,” Zhao said. “But the employees are using real fingerprints, aren’t they? They can’t just be pulled out of thin air. If Luo is the killer and the fingerprints aren’t his, whose are they?”

  “Some stranger, probably,” Yan said, pursing his lips. “Or maybe they are prints from a previous case.”

  “So you’re saying sending all those officers out to collect fingerprints was a complete waste of time?”

  “That’s standard protocol for an investigation; I had no reason to object to it,” Yan said primly.

  “Why do you suspect Luo anyway?” Zhao asked impatiently. “I don’t believe it, and that means other people aren’t going to believe it either.”

  “I’m sorry, but this is the answer that my educated guess has outputted. Checking my work is taking a lot longer than I expected,” Yan said helplessly.

  “Well, what if your educated guess is wrong? What if Luo has nothing to do with this case?”

  “I haven’t wasted any of your resources, have I?” Yan asked. “You were the one who decided to send men to Luo’s apartment; I was firmly against that. You probably wasted a lot of manpower following me around, but you shouldn’t blame me for that.”

  “You’re affecting the way I approach the case and make judgments, Yan!”

  “I don’t think you ever had a real approach to the case,” Yan shot back.

  “You, you—” Zhao had half a mind to kick him out. But soon he smiled. Yan had a point. It didn’t really matter how Yan conducted his investigation: if he got more leads, that was a good thing, and if he didn’t, Zhao shouldn’t blame him for it.

  Zhao stretched and sat down again. “What are you going to do next?”

  “Tomorrow I’ll bring your letter of introduction to the Ningbo Bureau,” Yan said. He paused, “But since you’ve already started investigating Luo, please continue.”

  “What else is there? His office?” Zhao said, surprised. “Keep in mind he knows a lot of people at the provincial level and could file a complaint against me for affecting his work and daily life.”

  “No, don’t go to his office,” Yan said. “It would be too risky to hide anything there. Check the video surveillan
ce for Luo’s apartment block on the night of Xu Tianding’s murder. There are cameras at the entrance, in the parking lot, and even in the elevator. I’m sure that he came back very late, if at all.”

  “Piece of cake,” Zhao said.

  “Excellent. See you in a few days.”

  Chapter 58

  “Luo got back around midnight on September 8. He was alone and on foot.” Investigator Yang played the surveillance footage from Luo’s apartment building.

  Zhao stared at the screen. The video was very dark, but the camera in Luo’s expensive apartment building showed more pixels than most models. The two lights at the entrance to the apartment complex gave just enough light for Zhao to make out the face of each person who walked past.

  “There isn’t any sign of blood or anything else out of the ordinary. Although he did come home pretty late for someone who doesn’t party,” Zhao said.

  “There’s more,” Yang answered. He closed that section of video and opened a different file. “A few hours later, at about ten minutes to two, Luo drove his car out of the apartment block. The light is not perfect, and we can’t see the face of the driver, but the license plate is his. Twenty minutes later he returns. It seems odd.”

  Zhao frowned and nodded. “Just as Yan suspected. Can you confirm whether there is anyone in the car when he returns?”

  “We can tell that there is no one in the front passenger seat, but there could be someone in the back,” Yang said, shaking his head.

  “That’s not enough information, is it?”

  Yang opened a third file. “At 3:35 a.m. he drove his car out of the apartment complex again and did not return until about 9:00 a.m.”

  “Yan thinks that Zhu Huiru and Guo Yu killed Xu Tianding, that Luo was the one who cleaned up the mess.” Zhao sighed. “He also thinks Luo taught them how to give airtight statements, which takes time. Twenty minutes wouldn’t be enough. Unless he . . . unless he picked them up and brought them back to his apartment?”

  “No big deal, we’ll just ask Luo what he was doing. Then we will check up on whatever he says. See how he responds to that, eh?” Yang said.

  “That will be harder than you think,” Zhao answered. “What if he says he couldn’t sleep and he took a walk? Nobody would have seen him or remembered him walking around.”

  “Umm . . .”

  “That isn’t enough to prove he’s guilty; it just raises a few suspicions for us,” Zhao said.

  “What are our options, sir?” Yang said, sounding dispirited.

  “What floor does he live on?” Zhao asked.

  “The seventh.”

  “Let’s check if the elevator has a camera.” Zhao’s face lit up. “If Ms. Zhu and Mr. Guo are with him in the elevator at that time of night, he’ll have to admit that he was involved!”

  Yang left to find the footage, but came running back less than five minutes later. “We caught him! We caught the killer!” he panted.

  “What?!” Zhao said, confused.

  “They just got him,” Yang said, catching his breath. “Squad 2 was collecting fingerprints in an apartment. They confirmed that it was a perfect match in the lab and arrested the guy. His name is Li Fengtian, he’s thirty-two, and he’s a local Hangzhou resident. He’s a lefty and he smokes Liqun cigarettes. It all fits! All that stuff about Luo Wen was just paranoia, I guess.”

  Zhao stood up and paced his office excitedly. “OK, interrogate him immediately and make sure to get a video and audio recording.”

  The Hangzhou and the Zhejiang Bureaus had both made the serial case a top priority, but Zhao never expected to get the answers in just a few weeks. And as for all of Yan’s speculations, it turned out that they were just a distraction with no bearing on the case.

  Chapter 59

  Yan approached Zhao’s door and knocked. He heard Zhao shout, “Come in.”

  “I hear you caught the killer?” Yan said, coming straight to the point.

  Something was not quite right. He looked more closely at Zhao, who was looking down and smoking a cigarette.

  “What is it? He won’t talk?” Yan said.

  Zhao sucked in a breath and extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray. “That bastard has an alibi.”

  “Have you confirmed it?”

  “Li Fengtian has a stall at a market that specializes in construction materials. He sells paint,” Zhao said. “He traveled to Jiangsu province on September 7 to replenish his stock and didn’t return until September 9. His wife managed the stall while he was there. On September 8, the night of Mr. Xu’s death, he was having a meal with a factory owner there. He couldn’t have possibly come back to Hangzhou in time to commit the crime. And that’s not all! He only came back to his hometown of Hangzhou last year. He has no relationship with any of the victims, and we’ve searched his apartment but didn’t find murder weapons or anything else to connect him to the crime.”

  “Apart from the murders, has he admitted to any other crimes?” Yan asked.

  “What other crimes?” Zhao asked, looking confused.

  Yan smiled and shook his head sadly. “That would be a no.”

  “What are you trying to say? Do you still think that Luo, Zhu, and Guo are the killers?”

  “No, I still think that Li Fengtian is also culpable,” Yan explained. “But he’s the secondary killer and Luo is the main killer.”

  “There is no evidence pointing to Luo!” Zhao said, exasperated. “Everything points towards Li Fengtian. The prints, the fact that he’s a lefty from Hangzhou, even his preference for Liqun cigarettes. It all fits.”

  “That’s it, then,” Yan said, nodding to himself.

  “What did you learn in Ningbo?” Zhao asked anxiously.

  Yan stood and stretched, then refilled his cup of water. “Do remember how we speculated why the killer would use a rope and not a knife?”

  Zhao answered after giving the question some thought. “We don’t have an answer to that question, as far as I know.”

  “Why didn’t the killer leave Sun Hongyun’s body on the grass? Why did he drag it to the concrete and go through all that hassle of faking the footprints?”

  “To make our jobs harder?” Zhao guessed.

  “That only makes it harder for the criminal to execute the crime,” Yan said, shaking his head.

  “Well, do you have the answers?”

  Yan asked another question. “Why did the killer make it look like his victim wrote the word ‘local’ just before he died?”

  Zhao shrugged and shook his head.

  “Why did he leave a Liqun cigarette after killing his victims?”

  Zhao frowned at Yan.

  “Why did he leave a sign that said ‘Come and get me’ at every crime scene?”

  “Get to the point, Yan!”

  “Why were all of the victims ex-convicts?”

  “It sounds like you already know the answer,” Zhao said.

  “You’re right. One reason explains it all.”

  Zhao gaped at Yan. “You’re telling me this because—”

  “My guesses can explain everything, but they would be worthless in a court of law. There is no evidence,” Yan said earnestly.

  Zhao scratched his chin. “I’ll get someone to drag Luo in here, and we’ll interrogate him for three days straight. I think he’ll crack if he’s not allowed to sleep for seventy-two hours.”

  “Not everyone gives in under pressure, you know,” Yan said with disdain.

  Zhao looked up—Yan had gotten his attention.

  “Tough interrogations can grind people down, and a lot of people crack. But then why do tough guys still confess in the end? It’s because the police present some evidence and describe the crime as it actually happened, making the tough guys think that the police know exactly what happened and they have the evidence to back it up. They confess because they think their conviction is inevitable. But this case is different! Luo knows that we don’t have witnesses or physical evidence. As long as he doesn’t confess, he�
�s in the clear. If he does crack, he would get the death penalty. What do you think he will do?”

  “What can we do?” Zhao said, pacing his office. “We can’t just let him go when we know he should be behind bars!”

  “One thing that I haven’t figured out is why Luo helped those young people when they seem to have met by chance,” Yan said.

  “If he doesn’t tell us, we’ll never know. We haven’t found anything to indicate a special relationship. I don’t think we’ll find out suddenly that Luo is Zhu Huiru’s real father!” Zhao laughed loudly in an attempt to clear the cloud of frustration that had settled in the room.

  “I have a plan,” Yan said quietly.

  “What is it?”

  “Li Fengtian has solid alibis and we should let him go. You aren’t allowed to keep him for any longer unless you find incriminating evidence anyway.”

  “Just let him go?”

  “Yes, then I want to lay a trap for Luo.”

  Yan explained the details of his plan.

  Zhao looked anxious. “Luo is very clever. Don’t you think he’ll see through this?”

  “He’s been waiting so many years for this. He’ll do it,” Yan said confidently.

  Zhao was uncertain. “We can make him see this document without you personally delivering it. I’m afraid once he finds out that you know everything, he might try to hurt you.”

  “No! I have to do this myself,” Yan said, his face flush with anger. “I want to see what he’s really made of!”

  Zhao watched Yan without speaking. He had never seen him like this before. “Alright, go see him.”

  PART 8

  THE MAGNETIC PULL OF THE TRUTH

  Chapter 60

  Luo watched TV on the sofa. His dog slept on the floor next to his slippers.

  It was early evening. Neither the police nor Yan had come by in the past few days.

  Luo had avoided eating at Chongqing Noodles—he didn’t even order takeout. But he saw Huiru earlier that day, and she had said that everything was fine.

  Just then, the doorbell rang. The dog ran towards the door, barking loudly.

  Luo stood up, immediately alert. Not this again. Would they ask to see his temporary residence permit? He owned this apartment, but his household registration still tied him to Ningbo, and he didn’t have a temporary residence permit. That might give them just enough legal cause to come into his property unannounced. He looked through the peephole in his door.