by Lei Mi
Eyes forward, Jiang Dexian waved him off. "Don't worry about it. Open that compartment there."
The little compartment contained a cell phone and a small key. Jiang Dexian grabbed the phone, turned it on, and jutted his chin in the direction of the key. "Use that to take your cuffs off," he said, and punched a string of numbers into the phone.
The phone was answered almost immediately; someone had apparently been waiting for Jiang Dexian's call. Skipping the usual pleasantries, he got straight to the point. "I'm on Vanguard Boulevard, two minutes from Changqing Road."
The person on the other end grunted and hung up.
By now Luo Jiahai had his handcuffs off and was staring at Jiang Dexian, waiting for his next instructions. His mind was in such a chaotic state that he was unable to think for himself; all he could do was to place all his hopes on this unpredictable and inscrutable lawyer.
When Jiang Dexian noticed him staring out of the corner of his eye, he turned and laughed suddenly. "Relax. Soon we'll be safe."
Fifty meters behind the Audi, the squad cars sped along in pursuit with sirens blazing. Sitting in the car in front with his face drenched in sweat, Captain Tian focused intently on the back of the Audi and barked order after order into the walkie-talkie he was holding. "Faster… Notify me right away… Block the west turning lane off Vanguard Boulevard…."
A few police motorcycles whizzed past, deftly traversing the traffic by zooming in and out between cars. Captain Tian watched them as they gradually caught up with the Audi as it lightened up a bit in speed. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he sank back heavily against his seat. Suddenly he seemed to think of something, and he turned to the elderly colleague sitting next to him. "This is the first time in Changhong City's history that a convict has escaped from prison, right?"
The older policeman stroked his chin for a while before answering in a soft voice. "I think so."
The little bit of color that had returned to Captain Tian's face drained back out. He clapped his hand on the driver's shoulder and shouted. "Faster!"
More than half of the Changhong City police force had been mobilized. Fire Control, Transportation, the Reserves, and the Special Squadrons were all in position, and the giant perimeter they had formed was slowly closing around them. In less than five minutes Luo Jiahai would be trapped.
By now the police motorcycles were within ten meters of the Audi. Jiang Dexian could even see the insignia on the riders' helmets clearly in the rearview mirror.
"Damn!" Jiang Dexian cursed. "Luo, press the fountain pen back against my neck, quick!"
"Huh?" Luo Jiahai fumbled for the pen.
"Hurry!" Jiang Dexian's tone left no room for argument. "We need to play this out to the end."
Just ahead was the intersection where Vanguard Boulevard crossed Changqing Road. Jiang Dexian squinted and counted to three under his breath, and before he could blink the car had sped straight through the intersection.
Right at the same time, a big cargo truck suddenly move into view, heading south. Honking as it went, its driver ran the red light and charged straight into the middle of the intersection.
One of the motorcycle officers was not able to brake in time. He cranked his handlebars over in a hurry, thinking he could miss the truck by swerving around the backside; however, he did not see the jeep that was passing from behind. It collided with him, sending the motorcycle flying through the air in a lateral roll. The motorcycle cop was tossed more than 20 meters and landed on the sidewalk, where his body rolled a few more meters until it crashed against the base of a utility pole. He did not move after that.
The truck driver pulled down on the handbrake cable with all his might, and with an ear-splitting screech, the tires left long, black marks on the asphalt that filled the air with the acrid scent of scorched rubber. Wobbling mightily, the big sand-filled vehicle came to a stop. Less than a second later, a Jetta slammed on its brakes and skidded sideways into the truck's trailer with a dull, metallic bang. Its driver, shaken, leaned out the window with a stunned look, but immediately pulled his head back in as a taxi crashed into the Jetta's driver-side door. The pile-up continued as another vehicle slid into the fray…
The sudden braking had sent Captain Tian's forehead into the dash, and a lump the size of a ping pong ball was swelling above his left eyebrow. Rubbing his head, he got out of the car and was disoriented for a moment until the scene in front of him jerked him to his senses.
A dozen or so vehicles were tangled in a great knot in the intersection. The pavement was covered with fallen bumpers and glass from shattered headlights, and groans and curses rose and fell. Ten or so meters in front of Captain Tian, a motorcycle cop was lying on the street with his legs trapped under the weight of his bike. He was waving feebly and struggling to sit up.
Still somewhat stunned, Captain Tian glared at the wreckage. He was sure he had just witnessed the worst automobile accident in Changhong City's history, and was equally sure that Luo Jiahai, the first convict in Changhong City's history to succeed in breaking out of prison, had passed through the intersection just in time to disappear without a trace.
"Damn!" Captain Tian muttered to himself. "I've just made history, too."
During the instant that they sailed through the intersection, Luo Jiahai heard the cacophony of the crash behind them quite clearly. But before he could even turn his head to look, the Audi swerved around a bend and darted into a narrow side-alley. After several more turns, they joined a slightly wider street that was mostly devoid of pedestrians. The few who were there paid no attention to the Audi as it hummed past. After another hundred meters or so they came to an intersection and a man wearing a black baseball cap and a gray pullover walked right up to the side of the street.
Jiang Dexian slowed and pulled up alongside the man. He barked at Luo Jiahai. "Get out and walk with him!"
The man in the baseball cap opened the car door, glanced around, and made a signal for Luo Jiahai to get out.
Luo Jiahai threw a look at Jiang Dexian. "Trust me," the lawyer said, his voice very calm.
Without further hesitation, Luo Jiahai turned and got out of the car. Jiang Dexian handed the cell phone he had just used to the man in the baseball cap, who in turn shoved it into the inside pocket of his pullover, grabbed the handcuffs and key, and led Luo Jiahai briskly in the direction of a minivan parked on the side of the street.
Jiang Dexian mashed his foot down on the gas pedal and sped forward, all the while checking his mirrors for anyone who might have witnessed the handover. Finally, at the mouth of a deserted little alley, he leaned across to open the right-side car door, accelerated onto the sidewalk, and crashed solidly into the brick wall of a flowerbed.
The impact enacted the airbag and bent the hood of the Audi out of shape. A dense cloud of steam began billowing outward. Exhausted, Jiang Dexian closed his eyes and let his body go limp against the deployed airbag.
The scene at the Changqing Road intersection was still one of total chaos. Wreckers were attempting to pull the mangled vehicles apart so that normal traffic could resume as soon as possible. Fire trucks and ambulances kept arriving one after another. City workers wearing various types of uniforms squeezed their way through the crowd of gathering onlookers and scurried back and forth, busy at their jobs. Rising in a terrible crescendo, sirens and the sound of cutting metal mingled together with the workers' shouting to form a doomsday sonata that played wickedly through the air over Changqing Road. Amidst the pungent mixture of smells from gasoline, scorched rubber, and burning leather, the wounded were being loaded one after another into the ambulances, some awake and some not, and delivered posthaste to the nearest hospital.
More than 20 meters away from the wreck, a dozen or so people were crowded around the unconscious body of the motorcycle cop.
One called to the emergency workers. "Hurry, there's another one over here."
Two EMTs carrying a stretcher raced over, leapt the guard rail, and went to work. Soon they ha
d recruited a few of the onlookers to help them place the man's body on the stretcher. Busy shifting his legs and shoulders into position, no one noticed the diminutive figure that crowded in to join them.
The sudden pain from being moved jolted the motorcycle cop into consciousness. Someone was groping near his belt, and he felt a hand unfasten his gun holster.
Unable to utter a word, the motorcycle cop tried to move his arm to block the holster, but the effort drained him of his last ounce of strength and he passed out again. The people carrying the stretcher did not notice that the motorcycle cop's body had just become about 900 grams lighter. The heavy metal object was slowly spirited away from between their legs by a pair of tiny hands.
Moments later, the little figure with the gun had disappeared down the noisy alley.
CHAPTER
10
Coincidence
Fang Mu sat at the table, his face blank, staring into space. Before him was an overturned chair. It had been two hours since Luo Jiahai had jumped up from that chair and kidnapped Jiang Dexian.
Bian Ping was pacing back and forth, poring over every detail in the 10-meter-square interview room as if hoping the tiny space would provide some hitherto undiscovered clues. The lieutenant in charge of the detention center leaned against the doorframe, an apocalyptic look stretching his eyes.
"Why weren't his ankles cuffed?" Bian Ping looked up after a long while. "Luo Jiahai was a repeat offender."
"If everything had been done by the book, his ankles would definitely have been cuffed." The lieutenant wiped at the sweat that was beading on his brow. "Who knows what that stupid lawyer might've told him? Besides, Luo Jiahai was pretty well-behaved up until now."
Bian Ping forced a smile. "He had us all fooled."
"Yep." The lieutenant glared at Fang Mu as if he had found the perfect scapegoat. "Especially Officer Fang here."
Unconsciously, Bian Ping threw an awkward glance at Fang Mu.
Fang Mu continued to stare straight ahead as if he had not heard them.
Feigning disinterest, the lieutenant straightened his uniform. "Someone might be here from the Municipal Bureau by now. You guys take your time here; I'll be back later."
Bian Ping and Fang Mu were the only ones left in the interview room. Bian Ping walked over to stand in front of Fang Mu and stared at his motionless visage, sighed, and tossed him a cigarette.
Fang Mu did not reach up to catch the cigarette, but rather let it bounce off his chest and land on the floor at his feet. After a while, he let out a long sigh, placed his elbows on the table, and buried his face in his hands.
Bian Ping stood there, quietly smoking his cigarette. "Stop thinking about it. It happened, and there's nothing you could have done."
Fang Mu finally opened his mouth. "No. This was definitely an error of judgment on my part."
He had been wrong; completely wrong. Luo Jiahai had not been as simple as he had appeared, nor had he, in fact, been the unsophisticated, impulsive young man that Fang Mu had thought he was. He had assumed the trial would be the end to all this, but contrarily, it had been the beginning. "Any news about the lawyer?"
"None so far. But I don't think Luo Jiahai would kill him."
"I think you're right."
"But we should hear something soon," Bian Ping said. "We've launched a city-wide search. I'm heading over to where the crash happened. You coming?"
Fang Mu shook his head. "I'm going to sit here a while longer."
"All right then. Oh, by the way," Bian Ping said as he bent down. "If anyone asks you what your thoughts are on this whole thing, keep your mouth shut, especially when it comes to the media. Got it?"
"Got it." Fang Mu hung his head. "I'm sorry, Captain."
Bian Ping just patted him on the shoulder and turned to leave.
The things Jiang Dexian had dropped when he was taken hostage were still scattered across the surface of the table, including a fine-grained leather briefcase and an opened moleskin notebook. Fang Mu first paged through the notebook, then unlatched the briefcase and rummaged through its contents.
It was obvious that these were the possessions of a man who enjoyed a higher quality of life; everything was of an expensive brand. Inside the briefcase, the items were all neatly partitioned and organized, a place for everything. Jiang Dexian was a very meticulous and efficient man.
Which made this mistake of his seem all the more ridiculous.
How could an attorney with such professionalism be so careless as to reveal a verdict of sentencing to his client before it had even been issued? It puzzled Fang Mu. And especially when that verdict had been the death penalty with immediate execution?
How could a lawyer with such professionalism allow a convict who was facing the death penalty to get his cuffed-hands on an object that could threaten the lawyer's very safety?
Fang Mu picked up the voice recorder Jiang Dexian had used to record him that time and turned it over and over in his hands.
Nothing was that simple.
That afternoon, the police found Jiang Dexian in a little alley about three kilometers away from the scene of the pile-up. The Audi he had been driving with the convict Luo Jiahai was crashed into the wall of a flowerbed. When the police arrived, they found the passenger-side door open and Luo Jiahai nowhere to be seen. Jiang Dexian had been pinned between the opened airbag and the driver's seat and was unconscious. The police took him to the emergency room at the nearby hospital and found, to their relief, that he had not suffered any serious injuries.
It was the following afternoon before Fang Mu was able to go with a colleague to visit Jiang Dexian at the hospital. When they entered the private room, he was sitting up in bed drinking soup. He did not look surprised to see Fang Mu. After a few simple pleasantries, Fang Mu got straight to the point with his questions.
Jiang Dexian gave Fang Mu his account of the incident. Jiang Dexian had learned of the forthcoming sentencing verdict from a contact he had at the courthouse – the death penalty, with an immediate execution. He had felt that he should keep his client informed and discuss with him what their next course of action should be, so he had driven over to the detention center. Upon hearing the news, at first Luo Jiahai had appeared quite calm. Jiang Dexian never would have thought that Luo Jiahai would take advantage of the guard's brief absence to take him hostage. After that, everyone in the detention center saw with their own eyes how Luo Jiahai had dragged him outside, forced him into the car, and used him to escape. As they were driving along a narrow street, Jiang Dexian had struggled with Luo Jiahai, and this had made him lose control of the steering wheel and crash into a flowerbed on the sidewalk. After that Jiang Dexian had passed out, but he guessed Luo Jiahai had used the opportunity to get away on foot.
After Jiang Dexian was finished telling his story, the hospital ward fell silent but for the scratching sound of pen on paper as Fang Mu's colleague finished writing down a few notes. A moment later he took out a cigarette, thought a moment, and put it away.
"It's okay; this is a private ward," Fang Mu said. "Give me one, too, if you don't mind."
His colleague handed him a cigarette.
Fang Mu asked Jiang Dexian, "Can you smoke?"
"Yes, I'm fine." Jiang Dexian pointed at his gauze-wrapped neck and chuckled. "It's just superficial; he didn't puncture my windpipe or anything."
The two of them puffed wordlessly for a long time. The policeman who was taking notes got up to shut the door to the room.
"Why did the guard leave so suddenly?" Fang Mu asked.
"Man, oh man, it was all my fault!" Jiang Dexian gestured with the cigarette in his hand, an extremely annoyed look on his face. "I had failed to defend my client, so I was feeling very depressed. In my mood I'd forgotten my lighter, so I asked the guard to go borrow one from Baldy Tian. I never would have imagined Luo Jiahai might use such an opportunity to make his move."
Fang Mu laughed. "And the fountain pen? How did he get his hands on it?"
; "Well, see, it's like this." Jiang Dexian took a deep drag from his cigarette. "The little bastard wanted to leave a note apologizing to Shen Xiang's family. I thought to myself that an appeal was not very likely at all, so I went ahead and handed him the pen, as well as a notebook to write in."
"At the time there was a whole table between you and Luo Jiahai. How was he able to reach you?"
"He said he couldn't twist the pen open, so I went to help him with it."
Fang Mu stared at Jiang Dexian for several seconds. "Why not use a voice recorder?"
"Huh?" Jiang Dexian paused. "I didn't think of it."
Fang Mu narrowed his eyes.
Jiang Dexian, a helpless expression on his face, did not try to avoid his gaze. "To tell you the truth, I'm still not quite used to that recorder thing."
On the way back, Fang Mu kept going over in his head everything that Jiang Dexian had said. There was not a doubt in his mind that this was a man who was highly skilled in the art of answering questions. Furthermore, his answers had all been rock solid; apart from the obvious carelessness in the man's behavior and the deviation from his usual professionalism, Fang Mu could not pick out anything wrong with them.
The problem was, as far as Fang Mu's understanding of Luo Jiahai's character went, it seemed impossible that he could succeed in taking a man hostage and make a smooth getaway while surrounded by a whole detention center full of cops. Everything that appeared to be coincidence – for example, the guard leaving his post, the fountain pen, the sudden massive car crash – all just felt way too serendipitous to make sense. If these truly were all coincidences, then Luo Jiahai was one lucky man—lucky enough to win the lottery.
If this had all been an elaborate plot to help him escape from prison, then that put an even bigger question on the table:
