by Chan Ho-Kei
Wing-yee raised his head, looking like a little child caught being naughty, and nodded.
‘Sir, did you know about this as well?’
Ping. An unhesitating YES.
‘And does this have anything to do with Yuen Man-bun’s murder?’
Unexpectedly, there was no response, and the pointer remained neutral.
‘Sir? Yue Chin-yau’s rape, Wing-lai’s birth and accidental death – do these have any bearing on the Yuen Man-bun case?’
The pointer wobbled on the centre line, which they all understood to mean MAYBE.
‘Perhaps, sir... you saw the inconsistencies and contradictions in the details, realized there was a puzzle there, and brought up the matter to prove your suspicions right?’
Ping. An enthusiastic YES.
‘Dammit! This old bastard enjoys picking at other people’s scabs!’ Wing-lim stood up, agitated. ‘So to satisfy your curiosity, you have to publicly humiliate my mom. All you pervs staring at her with your filthy eyes, pointing and laughing.’
‘Mr Yue, please try to stay calm,’ said Inspector Lok, conciliatorily. ‘I apologize on behalf of my mentor, and ask for everyone’s forgiveness. Superintendent Kwan would never let a suspicious point go, which is why he wanted to verify those events we’ve just talked about. After all, he’s already ascertained the killer must be a member of the household, so your family past might be relevant. I imagine now that he understands the ins and outs of this case, he probably knows who the killer...’
Ping. Confirmation, even before the inspector could finish his sentence.
‘You know who the killer is?’ This was Ah Sing.
Ping.
‘Then ask him to say the name!’ called out Nanny Wu.
‘No, before that, let’s make sure of the evidence,’ said Inspector Lok. ‘Without sufficient evidence, pointing out the murderer won’t do any good. They’d just deny it, and we’d be left with nothing but speculation.’
Ping.
This line of reasoning in fact came from the superintendent himself. Inspector Lok remembered being lectured by his mentor more than once as a young man: ‘What’s so hard about knowing who’s guilty? The difficulty is in giving the suspect no wriggle room, so they have no choice but to admit it.’
‘Sir, in everything that’s been said up to now, has the killer slipped up and left us an opening?’
Ping.
‘Really?’ Ah Sing butted in. ‘I see a pile of possibilities, but no actual clues. It’s not like the victim left us a message—’
Ping. This one seemed especially emphatic.
‘A message before he died?’ Inspector Lok queried. He flipped open his notebook. ‘Was it the photo album? But we didn’t find anything—’
Dub-dub.
‘Was the message in the album?’
Dub-dub.
‘On the victim’s body?’
Dub-dub.
‘The bloodstains?’ asked Ah Sing.
Dub-dub.
‘Ah Sing, we haven’t even mentioned the bloodstains.’
‘Right, yes. Um... was it something in the room?’
Dub-dub.
‘Nothing in the room?’ Ah Sing was startled. ‘Then, something outside the room?’
‘That’s a dumb question – if it wasn’t in the room, then it must be out—’
Dub-dub. The NO interrupted Inspector Lok.
‘Huh?’ Everyone now looked thoroughly confused.
‘What does that mean?’ said Wing-lim. ‘Inside and outside are the only possibilities!’
‘Was it on the door?’ said Old Tong.
Dub-dub. This one sounded like ‘Nice try, but no.’
‘Nothing could be neither inside nor outside the room,’ yelled Wing-lim.
Ping. Finally, the screen agreed with someone.
‘No?’ The inspector was deep in thought for a moment. ‘Sir, are you saying the deceased left no message?’
Ping.
‘The old fool must be brain-damaged! First there was a message, now there isn’t,’ sneered Wing-lim.
‘No, I understand what he’s saying,’ smiled Inspector Lok. ‘What he means is, the clearest message the victim could leave was no message at all.’
The others blinked uncomprehendingly at him.
‘Initially, we thought the killer was a burglar – in which case, the victim wouldn’t have known their name. But after investigating, we’ve realized the murderer must be a member of the household, so the deceased should have been able to leave behind a clue to their identity.’
Inspector Lok glanced at the superintendent before continuing, ‘Let’s look at it objectively. First of all, did the victim have the ability to leave any words behind? He had a harpoon through his belly and was bleeding freely, but even if he couldn’t find a pen, a finger dipped in blood would have done to write the killer’s name. There were signs he’d been tied up, but when he was found, his limbs were unrestricted. Next, was there enough time? It would seem so, because he was looking through the photo album before he died. So the fact he left no clue at all seems abnormal.’
‘So what’s the meaning behind this no-message message?’ asked Old Tong.
‘He could have left a message or called out for help, but didn’t, which means... he’d rather die than let anyone know who the killer was.’
Inspector Lok’s deduction left the group stunned.
‘You mean he was trying to protect the murderer?’
Ping.
Having stayed silent for some time, the computer came back into the conversation in answer to Old Tong’s words.
‘Maybe... maybe there was a message, but the killer wiped it away?’ said Choi Ting.
‘Mm, no,’ said the inspector. ‘After Mr Yuen sustained the fatal injury, he didn’t crawl towards the door, but to the bookcase for the photo album, as if he’d given up hope of being rescued. He might have realized he was close to death, and so decided to curl up in a corner and pretend he’d been killed by an intruder, in order to protect the real criminal.’
Inspector Lok smiled suddenly, as if something had just become clear through the fog.
‘I think I understand what happened just beforehand. The killer and victim were speaking together in the study. The murderer became angry about something or other, picked up the vase and knocked out Mr Yuen. Perhaps thinking they’d killed him, they quickly made the room look like it had been ransacked, prised open the gun cabinet, chiselled some marks on the safe, then swept the contents of the bookcase onto the floor. While this was going on, the victim came to. Panicking, the killer knocked him out again with the vase, then decided murder was the only option, so grabbed the waterproof tape – that must have come from the cabinet with the diving equipment – and bound Mr Yuen’s arms and legs, then pushed open the window and stuck tape to the outside to make it look like a break-in, and finally finished him off with the speargun.’
Inspector Lok paused. ‘After the harpooning, thinking the victim was dead, the murderer pulled the tape off his limbs and fled. But in fact, Mr Yuen still had enough strength left to get to the bookshelf...’
‘Hang on, why would the murderer pull the tape off?’ asked Choi Ting.
‘That’s...’ Inspector Lok stuttered to a stop.
Ping.
‘Sir, do you have something to say?’
Ping. To Lok, this sounded like Kwan was saying, ‘Of course.’
‘About Ms Choi’s question?’
Ping.
‘The killer pulled the tape off on purpose?’
Ping.
‘Was this... to distract attention?’
Dub-dub.
‘To harm the victim?’
Dub-dub.
‘Then... the murderer slipped up, and had no choice but to untie him?’
Ping.
Inspector Lok rubbed his chin with his left hand, sunk in thought. Apart from Yue Wing-yee, whose head was lowered in despair, the other four were looking fixedly at him, hoping he’d
be able to explain the old detective’s words. After some time, the inspector’s head snapped up and he asked the old man, ‘Sir, was my hypothesis earlier completely correct, including the sequence of events.’
Ping.
A smile reappeared on Inspector Lok’s face. He said to Choi Ting, ‘The murderer made a basic error, so he had no choice.’
‘What mistake?’
‘He got the order wrong.’
‘What order?’
‘Sticking the tape to the window, and binding the victim,’ he said with satisfaction.
The suspects looked confused, and it was Ah Sing who said, ‘That’s right, an intruder would have to break the window before entering and then tape up the victim. So the unused tape left on the roll should have a matching edge with the tape on the victim’s limbs. If it joined up with what was on the window instead, investigators would realize there was a problem.’
‘When the murderer realized their mistake,’ Lok said, ‘they’d have had to remove the tape either from the window or the victim’s limbs. The latter would make more sense, as the other option would involve also dealing with broken glass.’
‘What’s the big deal? It’s just a few bits of glass,’ protested Wing-lim.
‘Tape can be burnt, but not glass.’
‘Burnt?’ asked Nanny Wu.
The inspector pointed a finger at Nanny Wu. ‘You did the killer a big favour.’
‘What? Don’t you dare accuse—’
‘I’m not accusing you of anything, just saying something you did inadvertently helped the killer. You were burning hell money for Yue Chin-yau the night before, filling the house and garden with the smell of smoke.’
‘But that doesn’t— Oh!’ Choi Ting didn’t finish her sentence.
‘The criminal will have burned the tape, then flushed away the ashes and other remains. By the way, I imagine that’s also what happened to that two hundred thousand Hong Kong dollars.’
‘What?’
‘Which is why only the money was taken, not the rings or antique watches and so forth. Those would be too troublesome to deal with, and too easily found by the police if they were concealed on someone’s person or in their room. Besides, the murderer certainly wasn’t motivated by money.’
‘So who did it?’ urged Choi Ting.
‘If the deceased would rather die than name his killer, it was probably one of his sons,’ said Ah Sing.
Yue Wing-lim leaped to his feet again, while Wing-yee continued to clutch his head, apparently still not recovered from his confession.
‘At the very least, I presume the deceased wouldn’t have protected his old retainer or secretary in this way,’ said Inspector Lok. Seeing Choi Ting about to object, he added, ‘And I’m sure Dr Choi would be able to tell unconsciousness from death, and would have noticed if the victim was still alive after she’d fired a speargun at him. Yuen Man-bun’s death was at least partly due to his not seeking help – the killer left before finishing the job. Choi Ting would have made sure he was dead, rather than leaving him still able to crawl over to the photo album.’
‘Which leaves Wing-yee or Wing-lim.’ The thought popped into everyone’s head.
‘So that means Wing-yee was the killer,’ proclaimed Ah Sing. ‘Out of the two brothers, he was the only one who knew how to use a speargun.’
‘It’s not that difficult to pull a trigger,’ said Inspector Lok.
‘But sir, as you know, an inexperienced person wouldn’t find it easy to get the rubber tube in place – the slightest mistake and they’d hurt themselves.’ Ah Sing tried to sound like an expert despite having, like Inspector Lok, learned about spearguns just that week.
Ping. The old detective broke his silence.
‘The speargun? Sir, would you like to talk about that?’
Ping.
Now everyone remembered that the old detective had been asking about the gun before they got distracted by the revelations about Yue Chin-yau and Wing-lai.
‘Have we missed an obvious piece of evidence?’
Ping. This YES somehow sounded reproachful to Lok.
Inspector Lok opened his notebook again. ‘What about the speargun? The deceased was hit in the belly by a 115-centimetre steel harpoon, and died of blood loss. On the floor was a RGSH115 carbon-fibre speargun: 115-centimetre barrel, shuttered opening, thirty-centimetre rubber tube...’
‘Wait – what?’ Unexpectedly, this came from Wing-yee. He still appeared utterly dejected, but was now looking at Inspector Lok in confusion.
‘What’s wrong, Mr Yue?’
‘Could you repeat that?’
‘What I just said? The victim was killed by a 115-centimetre steel harpoon; there was a RGSH115 carbon-fibre speargun on the floor with a shuttered opening...’
‘The RGSH115 couldn’t possibly fire that harpoon,’ said Wing-yee with certainty.
‘Why not?’
‘Wrong length.’
‘Both the barrel and the harpoon were 115 centimetres long, isn’t that right?’ said Ah Sing.
‘The speargun ought to be shorter than the harpoon! You’d use a seventy-five-centimetre speargun for a 115-centimetre harpoon!’
‘That’s right! I thought something sounded wrong,’ said Old Tong.
Ping. Confirmation from the computer.
‘But is it really not possible to fire a 115-centimetre harpoon from a speargun of the same length?’ Ah Sing seemed determined not to let this point go.
‘You might manage with another model, but not the RGSH115.’ For an instant, Wing-yee seemed to have switched from suspect to detective. ‘Because of the shuttered opening.’
‘What does that have to do with it?’
‘The harpoon has barbed hooks at one end. You might be able to force it through an easy-release gun, but the shuttered opening is just a round hole, and if the harpoon is shorter than the barrel, the barbs will catch on the aperture. Did you see any damage to the harpoon or barrel?’
Inspector Lok shook his head. ‘So the harpoon was fired from another gun?’
‘Probably the RGSH075 or RB075.’
Ping.
Wing-yee had an eerie sense that the old detective was absolving him of his brother’s death.
‘Which means the murderer didn’t know anything about spear-fishing, and mixed up the 115 and 075 guns... Wing-lim?’ Choi Ting stared in trepidation at her brother-in-law, sitting beside her.
‘Nonsense,’ Wing-lim said nonchalantly. ‘Seeing as I don’t know about spearguns, how could I have loaded one? Or if you think I secretly did know, then anyone might have mixed up the two guns. From this angle, I’m the least likely suspect.’
Inspector Lok said nothing. His left hand went back to his chin as he stared thoughtfully at Wing-lim, as if searching for a flaw in his statement.
Dub-dub.
‘Sir, was that a no?’ said the inspector. ‘Are you disagreeing with Yue Wing-lim?’
Ping.
The old detective might as well have jumped from his bed and pointed at Wing-lim, declaring in his bass voice, ‘Don’t deny it – you’re the murderer.’
Wing-lim was clearly rattled by this, but in a matter of seconds had returned to his previous insouciance. ‘Fine, let’s see what evidence this old coot has.’
‘Sir, do you have proof?’
Ping. Again, Lok imagined the old detective tossing that out lightly, facing off with the suspect.
‘But wasn’t Yue Wing-lim right to say he doesn’t know how to use a speargun, so couldn’t have loaded it and used it to kill someone?’
Dub-dub, ping. NO, then YES.
‘He didn’t load it, but did kill someone with it?’
Ping.
‘But if he didn’t load it, how... Aha!’ yelled Inspector Lok. ‘Yuen Man-bun loaded it himself! Wong Kwan-tong mentioned that Yuen Man-bun often practised harpooning in his study. That’s what he must have been doing that night!’
Ping.
‘Then the damage to the gun ca
binet must have been faked! It wasn’t locked to start with, so Yue Wing-lim did that to create a false impression. He grabbed the waterproof tape, gloves and so forth right away, as well as the tools for prising the door open. He didn’t use a knife because he was afraid of getting the victim’s blood on himself, and besides, he didn’t know how to operate a speargun, so that would deflect suspicion from him.’
Ping.
‘The victim was playing with the speargun in his room when Yue Wing-lim entered. They started arguing, and then the attack with the vase, the fake burglary, the speargun murder... Hang on, why would the culprit swap the guns? He’d already be wearing gloves when he fired...’
Ping, ping, ping, ping... A series of YESes, the pointer jumping about like something in an arcade game. They were at the point of cracking the case.
Inspector Lok looked up abruptly, one finger pointed at Wing-lim, his gaze hawklike. ‘You had to change the spearguns because you’d left some damning evidence on the real murder weapon.’
Wing-lim had grown pale, but continued to hold himself upright, facing the accusation head on.
‘You fired the speargun at the victim, but because you weren’t familiar with it, only managed to hit him in the belly. You tried to fire again – but didn’t know how to load it! The mechanism is quite fiddly, you have to keep the grip pressed against your chest while pulling the rubber tube with both hands. Anyone unfamiliar with the device would easily get hurt by the moving parts. Thinking the victim was dead anyway, you gave up on shooting him again and tried to get rid of the immediate danger. You wanted to replace the RGSH075 with a gun of equivalent length, but the RB075 was disassembled, and you didn’t know how to put it together. So you could only use the RGSH115, not thinking how the harpoon would work with the shuttered opening. Now we know what the real murder weapon is, we can—’
Just at that moment, Wing-lim showed his guilt: he tried to run. In one step, he leaped over his brother and sister-in-law to the door, only to find it wouldn’t open, and in a second he felt a pair of hands grabbing him. Ah Sing had reacted almost as soon as Wing-lim jumped up, and quickly pushed him to the floor, easily pinning him down.
‘Do you think I’m a total rookie? I told Ah Sing to lock the door when he closed it,’ said the inspector. Everyone looked at the door, now noticing the catch had indeed been flipped.
