Skinner's Box (Fang Mu (Eastern Crimes))

by Lei Mi

  A chill crept down Fang Mu's spine. Had this been some sort of psychological experiment? No; no way. That would be too cruel. Using the act of rape as a method of experimentation would be a horrible, unthinkable crime, not to mention the fact that it went completely contrary to the ethics of psychological research.

  But if there were any truth to these suppositions, then was it also possible that the other members of the group of collaborative murderers had something to do with psychological experimentation as well?

  Fang Mu focused intently on the photograph of Shen Xiang. It was the sort of photo used for household registration. She looked to have been 17 or 18-year-old when it was taken, but there seemed to be a premature wariness in her eyes, and the bashful smile was a bit strained, a bit reserved. But none of this could conceal the youthful grace of her features. Fang Mu could not help but feel depressed at the thought of her phobia of her own smell and her almost masochistic attempts to cover it up. At the same time, however, it suddenly occurred to him that Shen Xiang's intense overreaction was a typical symptom of post-traumatic stress.

  "PTSD..."Fang Mu mumbled to himself unconsciously. If only she had been given the opportunity to see a doctor such as Yang Jincheng back then, years ago, then none of this would have happened.

  As was his habit, Yang Jincheng made one last round of inspections for the day before leaving to go home. As usual, everything in the institute was running to his satisfaction. Everywhere he went he saw bustling figures performing their tasks with methodical thoroughness. This was exactly how he liked it; only through unremitting struggle could results be obtained, and every moment of hard work brought them another step closer to success. Pleased, Yang Jincheng had a spring in his step. He concluded his inspection tour a full five minutes earlier than usual. He decided to return to his office, change his clothes, and go home.

  But as he pushed open the door to his office, he discovered it was not empty as it should be; there was someone standing behind his desk.

  Chen Zhe bowed his head slightly and smiled a greeting. "Director Yang."

  Yang Jincheng glanced back out the door. "How long have you been here?"

  "I just came in."

  "What is it?"

  "Oh, it's like this. Your patient Summer's mother just called wondering when their next appointment is." Chen Zhe pointed at the calendar spread out on Yang Jincheng's desk. "You were out, so I thought I would have a look at your schedule and give her an answer."

  "Ah." Yang Jincheng stared at Chen Zhe, his face void of all expression, but did not move. Chen Zhe pulled the chair out so that Yang Jincheng could sit down, hurried out from behind the desk, and stood at attention with his arms at his sides.

  Yang Jincheng glanced at his schedule and said, "Tell her next Tuesday at nine a.m."

  "Will do. If there's nothing else, Director, I'll be going now." Chen Zhe turned and left the office, closing the door carefully behind him.

  Yang Jincheng stared at the door thoughtfully for a moment, and then reached to turn on his computer.

  CHAPTER

  29

  Broken-Winged Angels

  Hoping to find something that might tie them together, the task force did another in-depth investigation into the backgrounds and social connections of the three homicide victims. The results were disappointing, however; they seemed to have led completely separate lives, each living in his own little bubble, and nothing of value was found.

  Fang Mu would not give up; he was convinced that his deduction was correct. It was no more than an extrapolation, and not enough to bring these people to justice. He needed stronger evidence. Going on the theory that they might all be involved in the same group or organization, the task force continued its surveillance of Tan Ji, Qu Rui, Jiang Dexian, Huang Runhua, and anyone with whom the four of them had contact.

  It was well into the evening when Fang Mu finally looked up from the piles of dossiers strewn across his desk and glanced at his watch. It was past dinner time; the cafeteria had probably closed already. Aching with a sudden hunger, he rubbed his belly and decided to go out and grab a bite to eat somewhere.

  As he was unlocking the door to his jeep, Fang Mu saw a reflection in the window of someone a little ways behind him. Startled, he looked over his shoulder, and was shocked to find Liao Yafan standing there.

  Fang Mu shook his head and blinked. He felt sure that no one had been there only a second before; Liao Yafan seemed to have materialized out of thin air. But she was not looking at him; she appeared dejected, her chin on her chest as she chewed on the strap to her school bag.

  "What are you doing here?" he asked.

  She did not answer.

  "Did you come here looking for me?"

  Still no answer. Fang Mu sighed. "All right. Hop in."

  This time he got a reaction out of the girl. She climbed nimbly into the passenger seat, put on her seat belt, and sat there staring out through the windshield in silence. Fang Mu had been planning on something quick for dinner, like a bowl of noodles, but he would have to change his plans now that he had Liao Yafan with him.

  As he was starting the jeep, he asked her if she had any preference, but she still would not talk. Not knowing what else to do, he decided to take her to a place most kids seemed to like, so he drove to the nearest Pizza Hut.

  Fang Mu was not a big fan of pizza, and he did not know whether Liao Yafan liked it or not. But at least she had not refused, so he went ahead and ordered a pizza, some snacks, and a couple of drinks.

  Sure enough, the pizza was disgusting. Fang Mu ate half a slice and then gave up, dumping the rest on the paper plate in front of him. Everyone around him seemed to be enjoying theirs, though. The strangest part was that most of them were acting refined and delicate as they ate, sitting upright and using plastic knives and forks. It’s ridiculous, he thought. He'd seen how foreigners ate this stuff; they grabbed it with their bare hands and shoved it into their mouths, slopping cheese and sauce and everything else down their chins. Here, however, pizza seemed to have become a delicacy as rare as foie gras or caviar, and they had to use cutlery just so they appeared sophisticated enough to eat it.

  Liao Yafan was all thumbs when it came to using hers. As soon as she noticed Fang Mu had stopped eating, she stopped, too, looking a little nervous. Seeing her discomfort, Fang Mu forced himself to pick up his half slice of pizza, stuff it into his mouth, and resume chewing. This seemed to encourage Liao Yafan. Copying Fang Mu, she picked her pizza up in her hands and took a big, sloppy bite.

  When they were halfway through their meal, Fang Mu's cell phone rang. It was Teacher Zhou, asking Fang Mu in a panicked voice whether he would mind driving over to help look for Liao Yafan. Fang Mu covered the microphone and asked her in a low voice if she had run away. She merely hung her head wordlessly and chewed on her pizza. Fang Mu shrugged and told Teacher Zhou that she was with him. Teacher Zhou emitted a long, drawn-out sigh and asked Fang Mu to pass the phone to Liao Yafan. Not only would she not take the phone, she would not even look up. She just sat there chewing her food.

  Fang Mu frowned, but there was nothing he could do. "I'll bring her back after she's finished eating," he told Teacher Zhou.

  After he hung up, Liao Yafan finally looked up, a greasy piece of pizza pinched firmly between her knuckles, and said slowly, "I'm not going back."

  "Don't be childish." Fang Mu pointed at the several pizza slices still left on the tray. "Eat up and let's go. Teacher Zhou's worried about you."

  "I am not a child," she said, glaring at him with hard brown eyes.

  "Okay, okay, okay. You're not a child." He chuckled. "Miss Liao Yafan, eat up, if you please."

  She resumed her posture from before, head down, unmoving, silent. A solitary tear plopped onto the table in front of her, followed by another, and another, and another…

  She cried silently for a long time, never letting go of the piece of pizza. She grasped it as if it were the only thing she had to hold on to.

 
Fang Mu felt overcome with awkwardness. The couple at the next table was shooting suspicious glances their way, as if wondering what their relationship was to one another. Indeed, Fang Mu was far too young to conceivably be the girl's father, and she was far too young to be his lover. They were probably thinking he was some sicko out to seduce a high school-aged girl.

  A few minutes passed, and Liao Yafan's sobs stopped as suddenly as they had started. She wiped her eyes with a napkin, smoothed her hair, and resumed eating the piece of pizza still in her hand. Fang Mu had hardly touched the table full of food, but every remaining scrap was eventually eaten by Liao Yafan. It was not that she had a huge appetite; she was simply dragging the meal out as long as she could. The neighboring tables had rotated through three rounds of customers before she was finally finished.

  Fang Mu glanced at his watch. It was after 9:00 already. His phone buzzed in his pocket again. Without looking he knew it was Teacher Zhou wondering where they were.

  Fang Mu finished paying the bill, stood, and said to Liao Yafan, "Time to go."

  She did not budge. Hands gripping the edge of the table, she glared steadily at Fang Mu and said, "I'm not going back."

  Fang Mu scowled. "Yes, you are."

  But then she turned her head to the side in a gesture that was quite clear: Fine, then I'm not ready to leave yet.

  Fang Mu gave up. "Okay, okay, okay. You're not going back."

  Liao Yafan peered at him sideways. "Promise?"

  "Promise."

  As per Liao Yafan's request, Fang Mu drove around the city's south-side, far from Angel Hall. She leaned close to the ice-cold window, chin resting in her hand, staring at the city lights as they flickered past. Outwardly, the girl appeared to be meditating calmly, but in fact she was extremely jumpy. Every time Fang Mu turned the car onto a street heading northward, whether intentionally or not, she snaked her head around and gave him an evil eye until he had turned the vehicle back southward.

  It was getting close to 11:00 when he finally pulled over to the curb.

  "It's getting late. You have to go back."

  "No." Her voice was quiet but very firm.

  "Well, we can't spend the night in the car, you know. It's too cold; we'd freeze."

  Liao Yafan brooded for a while, and then turned to look at him. In a trembling voice she said, "Then take me to a motel."

  Fang Mu rolled down the window wordlessly. After smoking half a cigarette in silence, he suddenly pulled away from the curb and accelerated.

  As the jeep sped in the direction of Angel Hall, Liao Yafan glowered at Fang Mu for a full five minutes straight. Then, perhaps sensing that his leniency had reached its limit, she slowly turned back to stare out her window. "If you take me back there tonight, I'll just run away again."

  Jaw set, Fang Mu did not say a word. But after passing through a few more intersections he suddenly hauled the steering wheel around and headed in a different direction.

  Ten minutes later Fang Mu pulled into the parking garage beneath his apartment block.

  "Follow me. Be quiet." He did not want to have to deal with any of his neighbors seeing him come home in the middle of the night with such a young girl in tow. Tiptoeing unnecessarily behind him, bent at the waist, Liao Yafan seemed both anxious and excited at the same time.

  The short trip to the second floor seemed to stretch on forever. Luckily, they did not encounter any of the other tenants. When they finally reached his apartment, Fang Mu shut the door behind them and let out a shallow sigh of relief.

  Liao Yafan appeared suddenly at ease. She plopped her school bag onto Fang Mu's bed and gazed around the diminutive apartment, eyes wide with curiosity. Fang Mu went into the kitchenette to fill a plastic basin with tap water, and then poured some steaming hot water into it from the large hot water thermos. He pointed at the soap and washcloth on the windowsill in the bathroom and signaled for Liao Yafan to go in and wash her face. She took the basin from him and walked obediently into the bathroom, and then took off her school jacket and placed it on the stool. Fang Mu quickly closed the door behind her, and then pressed a speed-dial number as he walked out of the apartment.

  Teacher Zhou's tone was strained from worry. "Why haven't you been answering any of my phone calls?"

  "Relax. I had no choice," Fang Mu said quietly, cupping a hand over his mouth and the microphone. "No matter what I said, I couldn't convince Yafan to go back. I don't know what's up with her."

  "Where are you now?"

  "My apartment. It looks like she'll have to spend the night here, I'm afraid."

  Teacher Zhou hesitated a moment. Fang Mu could clearly make out Sister Zhao's voice in the background as she hissed, "No!"

  "All right then," Teacher Zhou finally agreed. "Take her straight to school first thing in the morning…"

  "No problem. Don't worry, it'll be okay."

  When he entered his apartment again, Liao Yafan had finished washing up and was sitting refreshed on the edge of the bed. He pulled over a chair to sit in. It took him an awkward moment to think of something to say. Finally he blurted, "Have you finished your homework for today?"

  As the words left his lips, even he felt they sounded ridiculous. He stood and picked up his car keys. "Get some rest. I'll come get you first thing in the morning."

  Fang Mu had just started turning the doorknob to leave when he felt her tug at the hem of his jacket.

  "Don't go."

  A pair of slender arms wrapped around his waist and squeezed.

  Within a split second Fang Mu's body went rigid, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. Instinctively, he twisted around to push Liao Yafan away, but she was hugging him so tightly that no matter which direction he turned, she ended up standing directly behind him. He randomly thought of a game he had played in childhood called Eagles and Chickens.

  He tried to pry Liao Yafan's fingers away from him, but every time he had loosened one of her hands and started working on the other, the fingers of the first hand closed back tight again. They struggled like that in silence for a while before Fang Mu finally stood still, tired but also worried he might hurt the girl's fingers.

  Liao Yafan continued holding onto him desperately for a moment, but then she seemed to sense that Fang Mu would not try to break free anymore, so she buried her face into his back. This startled him into lurching forward, bending at the waist. Liao Yafan held on and lurched with him. Fang Mu was now in an exceedingly uncomfortable posture, with his back bent and his neck twisted. After five minutes of this, he surrendered.

  "Okay, okay, I won't go. Just let go of me first."

  Her arms relaxed a little. "You promise?"

  "Yeah. I promise."

  Slowly, hesitantly, her fingers loosened and let go. Fang Mu turned, grimacing in pain, to find Liao Yafan already back on the bed, lying down with her back to him. For a second he thought about taking the chance to hurry out the door, but then he worried about how she might react, left alone in the apartment. Besides, he had promised. He returned to the chair and sat down glumly.

  Sleep was impossible, so he rolled over to the desk, turned on his computer, opened up his case files, and got ready to work through the night. After staring at a couple of reports, he stole a glance toward the bed. The girl was still lying on her side, face to the wall, hugging her shoulders. Fang Mu stood and unfolded the comforter at the foot of the bed, then spread it gently across her body. She did not move an inch, but Fang Mu knew very well that she was not asleep. Smirking, he turned off the overhead light, turned on his desk lamp, and continued working.

  Work was such a wonderful thing. It could make one forget an empty stomach, forget the cold, even forget that there was a young girl fast asleep on the bed. When Fang Mu next lifted his head and looked at the clock, it was already 2:30 in the morning. The girl was curled up beneath the comforter, sleeping soundly; he could hear soft snoring noises coming from her direction. He stood quietly, opened the window a crack, and leaned against the fr
ame while he smoked a cigarette.

  The smoke took on a bluish tinge against the dim light from the desk lamp. As he exhaled, a draft drew it under the window and dispersed it into the night. Frost was already creeping across the glass, refracting the red from the guardhouse's ceiling light and the yellow from the streetlights below and mixing them into eerie orange, feathery patterns that looked warm despite their icy substance. Fang Mu touched the glass and immediately felt its biting cold through his fingertips.

  Behind him the girl started mumbling in her sleep. As he turned his head to look at her, she rolled over and kicked the comforter to the side. He quickly shut the window and went over to the bed. He had just bent to spread the comforter back on top of her when she reached and up and grabbed his arm.

  "Mommy..."

  Liao Yafan appeared to be fast asleep still. Her face was contorted into a dreamy pleading look. Fang Mu tried to pull his arm free, but the sleeping girl tightened her grip.

  "Mommy..."

  Deep down in the softest part of his heart, something stirred. He kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed with his back against the headboard, legs stretched out next to Liao Yafan. At almost the same time, the girl snuggled up to him and pressed her face against his chest. Her breathing slowed, and her features relaxed in contentment.

  "Mommy," she mumbled one last time, and drifted back into a peaceful slumber.

  Fang Mu's hands still hung motionless in the air in front of him. A full minute went by before he finally let them rest lightly on top of her back. Even through the fabric of the girl's sweatshirt, he could feel her bony shoulder blades protruding from her back. She was so skinny, he marveled. Far too skinny, and light as a feather. At the top of her head, the hair was thick but slightly brown from malnourishment. Fang Mu put his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

  She was the oldest child living at Angel Hall. The other children there were too young to understand what was going on, but Liao Yafan probably knew very well what demolition and relocation would mean—yet again she would lose the only place she had to call home. And yet again, she would be unable to see what the future might bring.