At the large round table near the entrance of Yi Ji, Fang Zhenyue led his team seated around the table. Besides the married Uncle Jiu, all were bachelors… along with a young lad named Little Eleven.
Tonight, Ding Baoshu and Sun Xin were absent, making the place extra busy. Jiaru and Jiajun were drafted as child laborers, running back and forth, sweating profusely.
After Team B’s round table started serving dishes, seeing that the outside was spacious with mixed traffic and the neighboring restaurant noisy with diners and drinkers, they began discussing the case in hushed, cautious tones.
“Let’s sort things out,” Fang Zhenyue placed a peanut on the table, “First off, the victim is almost certainly Zhou Jianguo, who came from Shenzhen to discuss massage chair business.”
“The body was dumped at the northern docks of Changsha Bay Wholesale Food Market,” Gary pinched another peanut and placed it next to Fang’s, paired up.
“He died two months ago,” Liu Jiaming added a third peanut.
“Zhou Jianguo’s belt is missing,” Jiayi put down a fourth.
“I asked the salesman, Wang Yongtao, who dined with the victim that night; indeed, they left at the same time, and he saw no one else speaking to the victim,” Sanfu added a fifth peanut. “The hotel where the victim stayed is on Mong Kok Road, and he likely didn’t go far. The receptionist said he returned to the hotel alone the night before his departure and left around 10 a.m. the next day after packing up, with no sight of him being accompanied.”
“It’s possible that he encountered the murderer when he was leaving the hotel to head back.”
“That might mean a stranger committed the crime, which complicates things.”
“It could also be that he arranged to meet someone he knew, but we don’t know who that is, and now we can’t find more clues. Brother Yue, should we use media power to seek witnesses who saw the victim two months ago?”
“Let’s wait a bit, don’t alert the murderer yet. We’ll continue to look for other clues. If it comes to it, we’ll turn to the media,” Fang Zhenyue cautioned. The media can be a double-edged sword; it’s helpful if used well, but public opinion is hard to control, and the police rarely seek media assistance in handling cases lightly.
Sanfu looked at the peanuts in front of Fang Zhenyue for a while, then nudged the peanut Liu Jiaming placed with his chopsticks, raising an eyebrow to ask:
“Zhou Jianguo left the hotel on the 6th last month, but he didn’t leave Hong Kong that day. Can we infer that his time of death was on the 6th?”
Fang Zhenyue stared at the third peanut, pondered for a moment, then nodded, “Until we find evidence pointing to another date, we’ll treat the 6th as the date of death for our subsequent investigation.”
Sanfu, hearing Fang Zhenyue agree with him, smirked slightly, his mood visibly uplifted.
“Let’s start from Hengxiang Wangye. Tomorrow morning, let Uncle Jiu, Gary, and Liu Jiaming ask around Hengxiang more about other salesmen, receptionists, etc., to gather as much information as possible about Zhou Jianguo.”
“Check if he had any other relatives, friends, or acquaintances in Hong Kong, and if there were any particular foods he loved that he wanted to try before leaving.”
“Did he ever mention anything he wanted to do before leaving Hong Kong, like buying gifts for his family or bringing some things along?”
“Clarify everything that happened after Zhou Jianguo arrived in Hong Kong, starting from the first day. Focus on questioning Wang Yongtao, and don’t overlook the other colleagues either. Don’t miss any clues.”
“Alright, Brother Yue,” Jiaming nodded.
“Yes, sir,” Gary also smiled as he accepted the order. Sometimes, having work to do is happier than having none. They have a direction for their efforts, which means there’s a chance to solve the case. It’s better than being in the dark and clueless.
“Tomorrow morning when Eleven arrives at the police station, go and urge Madam to keep pushing the police on the mainland for information. I’ve already spoken to Madam before leaving work, focusing the investigation on Zhou Jianguo will make it easier for them,” Fang Zhenyue said, then picked up a small piece of chicken leg from the chicken soup pot. It was hot and savory, a perfect comfort on a suddenly chilly early autumn evening.
“Alright, Brother Yue,” Jiayi nodded firmly.
Everyone was enjoying their meal warmly when Sun Xin and Ding Baoshu unexpectedly walked back together.
“Did you two go out together?” Jiayi widened her eyes—a stubborn kid who doesn’t mingle, and a socially anxious little sheep who gets nervous when meeting someone’s gaze could actually hang out together?
Especially since they are five years apart:
“What did you go out to do?”
So curious!
The other detectives also turned to look at Sun Xin and Ding Baoshu, familiar faces all curious together.
Sun Xin couldn’t answer and just chuckled sheepishly, then ducked into the kitchen, rolled up his sleeves, and silently went to help Yi Jiadong.
But Ding Baoshu stood by the table, like a kid about to perform, and seriously answered, one word at a time:
“Today, the ferry street dismemberment case went to trial. Sister Shanrong wore a mask and testified in court. Sun Xin and I went to watch and even brought her fresh flowers.”
“You guys bought flowers?” Jiayi raised her eyebrow, surprised that the two naive guys would think of that.
“Yes,” Ding Baoshu stood tall and proud.
“Huh? The flowers I brought back to the shop yesterday, are they gone? Couldn’t be…” Yesterday, she had bought new flowers for the office and picked the still good ones from the old bunch to bring back to the shop and set on the counter. When she went to check, were they gone?
“Yeah, Jiayi said you brought them back,” Ding Baoshu answered matter-of-factly.
This is really… she borrowed the crime team’s flowers to decorate her own shop.
Baoshu then took flowers from the shop to give to Wu Shanrong.
What kind of impoverished combination are she, Ding Baoshu, and Sun Xin?
Can’t anyone afford to buy a fresh bouquet of flowers?
The Stingy Trio…
“Is Wu Shanrong okay?” Fang Zhenyue suddenly spoke up as he sat nearby.
“She cried, but after giving her testimony, we all applauded her. Everyone on the scene applauded, praising Sister Shanrong for her bravery, saying she did a great deed for those who had died before. Everyone respected her so much. Later, when we gave her flowers, she sobbed and thanked me. I thanked her too, and so did Brother Sun Xin, and she also thanked Brother Sun Xin…”
At this point, Ding Baoshu scratched his head, not sure what else to say, and just flashed an embarrassed, silly smile.
Jiayi looked at the youngster and suddenly felt the urge to hug him again.
In this bustling international port city, far surpassing most of the world in activity, lived such young, weak, and impoverished children.
In contrast to their appearance, there was their fragile bravery and their unripe adeptness.
Jiayi often felt that their ability to survive in society was stronger than hers, even though she was in her twenties. In them, she also sensed an extraordinary weight of life, drawing from it the heat that could make her stronger.
It would be nice to hug this little guy, but his stubborn gaze and lean bones showed he was not a soft creature craving sympathy.
So, she just patted the shoulders of this growing wild creature and gave him a thumbs-up.
The other detectives also nodded or gave Ding Baoshu a thumbs-up, conveying their encouragement.
The young boy immediately showed a smile that was hard to categorize as pride, satisfaction, or bashfulness, probably more pleasurable than being hugged.
The evening breeze was cool, rustling the leaves, and Hong Kong was experiencing its first drop in temperature since the onset of autumn.
Some trees had already responded, their leaves turning yellow and fluttering down with the wind.
But the little flowers by the trees, smartly growing in sheltered spots, still stood erect, spreading their green leaves. In the cold air, they completed their final flourish.
Because the evidence was irrefutable, Wu Shanrong’s testimony had inspired everyone’s sympathy and outrage, and without exception, the brutal murderer of the Ferry Street dismemberment case, Zhang Dafu, was sentenced to death.
Catching the last chance before the abolition of the death penalty in Hong Kong in the nineties, he was severely punished.
The Ferry Street dismemberment case came to an end, and it was time to work hard on new cases.
As dinner was drawing to a close, after much thought, Jiayi took a deep breath, leaned in, and whispered to Fang Zhenyue:
“Brother Yue, there’s something I want to tell you.”
Turning his head, Fang Zhenyue saw a pair of big watery eyes and fan-like, fluttering long eyelashes, hmm…
“What is it?” He was not flustered or blushing, and appeared very composed, quite admirable! Proud of himself.
“When we went to Hengxiang Wangye, we had asked about brother Sanfu’s ex-wife, Ding Wanzhi, remember? I remember she chuckled,” Jiayi blinked earnestly, her expression incredibly sincere, adorably so.
That kind of reaction—laughing softly upon mentioning someone’s name—Jiayi knew it all too well!
Perhaps men are not particularly sensitive to this reaction, but women understand that it signals juicy gossip.
There must be something about Zhou Jianguo that made Ding Wanzhi laugh. In her mind’s eye, Jiayi saw Zhou Jianguo with a strange woman, engaged in a fleeting tryst. What other gossip could be more worth discussing than matters between a man and a woman?
Maybe Ding Wanzhi has gossip that could point to the murderer!
After sharing these thoughts with Fang Zhenyue, Jiayi eagerly added:
“Brother Yue, I asked Ding Wanzhi. Although she’s reluctant to be questioned by the police, I cornered her in the bathroom… She told me there’s a meeting at the company tonight, ending after nine. If I’m willing to wait, I can meet her at Hengxiang then.
“But… I go to shooting practice every afternoon, but I haven’t finished the moving target training yet, so I can’t get a gun.
“I’m afraid to act alone.”
What if something happens, what if I encounter the murderer, what if I end up in danger—
“But I really feel I might learn something from Ding Wanzhi, so…”
Jiayi tilted her head, gazing at Fang Zhenyue as if the world was fraught with danger and only the two of them remained, her life entirely dependent on Fang Zhenyue.
No man can resist such a look.
None!
“Got it!” Fang Zhenyue took a deep breath to steady his somewhat disordered breathing, trying to suppress his warming ears. He told himself to calm down.
Giving the playful young policewoman a glance, he then assumed a demeanor of having everything under control and murmured:
“Let Sir Fang be your bodyguard, I promise.”
“Thank you, Brother Yue!” Jiayi immediately gave two thumbs up, even one more than she had for Ding Baoshu.
But after thanking him, she hesitated again.
Seeing that she had more to say, Fang Zhenyue raised an eyebrow and said, “What else? Tell me.”
“Ah, that, when women chat about gossip, they can relax and talk about all sorts of things. But if there are several men, especially a formidable police chief like you, Brother Yue, I’m afraid she might feel constrained and scared…”
“I understand!” Fang Zhenyue couldn’t help but smile, “So, I need to protect you discreetly as your bodyguard, without showing my face or letting Ding Wanzhi notice, right?”
Jiayi nodded vigorously.
Fang Zhenyue tapped his fingers on the table and said, “Alright, I agree.”
Jiayi happily gave two thumbs up again to express her thanks and approval to Fang Zhenyue. To show an upgraded level of agreement, she also curled up her two big toes under the table, even though he couldn’t see them.
After dinner, the detectives went their separate ways. Fang Zhenyue greeted Yi’s eldest brother and borrowed his younger sister for a little overtime work.
The jeep, carrying the young policewoman, sped towards Mong Kok Road.
…
When Sun Xin was clearing the table, he noticed that Fang Zhenyue’s table was lined with lots of peanuts.
Why aren’t the detectives eating them? What a waste.
He glanced around quietly and picked them up one by one, popping them into his mouth.
Crunch, crunch—delicious.