Chapter 3

I went home in a daze, my thoughts snarled into knots.

Zhao Jing rushed at me. “Well? Did you find him? I called you over and over. Why didn’t you answer?”

I ignored her, locked myself in the bathroom, turned the cold tap all the way, and held my head beneath it.

The freezing water gradually restored my ability to think.

First: Chen Zhenshi had been held for twelve hours, and before that he had been more than a hundred kilometers away in the neighboring county. When had he imprisoned Zhong Qiu at the pig farm? When had he moved him?

The timing made it impossible for him to have acted alone.

He had an accomplice.

Who?

Second: bullying was usually committed by a group against one victim. Chen Zhenshi had described three incidents, all involving several students tormenting Chen Shouzhong. He could not be seeking revenge against Zhong Qiu alone.

Releasing him now was like setting a tiger loose on the mountain.

Third: Chen Shouzhong had deliberately omitted the bullies’ names from his note. Chen Zhenshi ran a shop in another county. How had he learned which students were responsible?

Most likely, their identities were hidden in the sequence. But a class roll rarely went above fifty, and some numbers in the sequence were far larger.

What did those numbers mean? What secret had Chen Shouzhong considered worth dying to protect?

Fourth: Chen Zhenshi was meticulous. He had avoided every camera and passerby. Why leave behind a scaffolding pipe that pointed directly to him?

Had it been an accident, or bait?

Fifth: Zhong Qiu was fifteen, far too old to be fascinated by inflatable castles. Why had he suddenly asked me to take him there? How had Chen Zhenshi lured him to the back door before abducting him in the alley?

Letting Chen Zhenshi go might not be a disaster. If we watched him, he might lead us to my son.

I changed into civilian clothes, offered Zhao Jing a few hurried words of comfort, and took Wang Guoqing to watch Chen Zhenshi.

He had returned to his scaffolding shop and was doing business as usual.

Inside Wang Guoqing’s Santana, my protégé asked, “Master, did you know Chen Zhenshi before all this?”

I gave him the short version. “Chen Zhenshi was Pingcheng’s top science student in the 1982 college entrance examination. He studied mathematics at Nanjing University, then came home and worked as an accountant at the state-owned Nanfang Textile Machinery Factory. In 2000, he was sentenced to three years for rape. He was released last year. After his arrest, his wife divorced him by agreement, and he kept custody of their son. I led the original rape investigation.”

Wang Guoqing had not yet graduated from the police academy four years ago. The case meant nothing to him.

But he heard the qualification in my last sentence. “You led it at first. Who took over?”

“Deputy Chief Wang Zhen.”

“Wasn’t he promoted from deputy captain of criminal investigation to deputy chief and captain just over three years ago? Sounds as if there’s quite a story there.”

Four years earlier, Wang Zhen and I had both been deputy captains and rivals for promotion. We were never close. Now he sat among the leadership, and I had long since learned my place.

Speaking ill of a superior behind his back was taboo in the system.

“Stop guessing,” I said. “Keep your mind on the case.”

Knowing how observant Chen Zhenshi was, we parked nearly a hundred meters from his shop. At that distance, he should not have noticed us.

At dinner, he went to a fast-food place next door, ordered two dishes, ate, then asked the owner to pack two additional meals and bought two bottles of cola.

He lived alone. Who were those meals for?

I nudged Wang Guoqing awake and told him to prepare to follow.

Instead, Chen Zhenshi walked straight toward us with the bags in his hands.

My pulse quickened. When I clenched my fist, my palm was slick with sweat.

He passed the boxed meals through the car window, all counterfeit courtesy. “It is terribly hot. You two officers must be exhausted. I brought you something to eat. I hope it suits your taste.”

I could only grin through the humiliation. “We’re carrying out an assignment. I hope you understand, Mr. Chen.”

His face changed at once, his eyes turning cold and vicious.

“Put yourself in the offender’s position, Officer Zhong. If you keep watching him, would he risk delivering food and water to your son? How long can a person survive without either—three days, or was it seven? I learned it in school but have forgotten. Of course, that assumes your son is still alive.”

I sat paralyzed, as though struck by lightning.

He went on. “If I were you, I wouldn’t enrage the offender with something as clumsy as surveillance. Especially surveillance this unprofessional.”

He tapped the car’s B-pillar.

I knew how he had spotted us.

It was midsummer, nearly forty degrees outside, and we had lowered the windows for ventilation. Public security was poor in those days. No driver would leave a parked car with the windows open unless someone remained inside.

From that alone, Chen Zhenshi had deduced that the unfamiliar car was occupied and watching him.

My throat tightened. “Tell me—do you think my son is alive?”

“How would I know?” He was completely at ease. “But I can analyze it for you. Kidnapping carries at least five years. Murder will probably mean life imprisonment or death. The offender must have weighed those consequences. And this so-called bullying was, in the end, children roughhousing. Some children are born but never raised. Perhaps the offender merely wants to discipline them on their parents’ behalf. I don’t think you need to worry too much.”

Heat and pallor chased each other across my face. “Then when do you think the suspect will release him?”

Chen Zhenshi looked down at me for more than ten seconds, dominating the silence.

“How would I know? I’m not the offender. But I suggest you go home, and tell your colleagues to stop watching me. Because surveillance is very, very dangerous.”

He pronounced the last words one at a time.

Wang Guoqing snapped. “Don’t be so arrogant, Chen Zhenshi. Turn back before it’s too late and surrender Zhong Qiu. You may still receive leniency. Otherwise—”

I seized his arm before he could finish. “Drive. We’re leaving.”

The laboratory report on the human feces in the pigsty came back. DNA confirmed it belonged to Zhong Qiu.

But the blood at the scene belonged to a young woman. Fibers from a sanitary pad were mixed into it.

Whose blood was it?

What depraved thing had Chen Zhenshi forced my son to do?

I could not bear to imagine it. Every attempt made my scalp prickle and my chest constrict.

The pigs were fed once in the morning and once in the afternoon. The keeper had noticed nothing unusual. Zhong Qiu must have been locked there overnight and moved before the morning feeding.

The footprints were complicated: Zhong Qiu’s, the keeper’s, an unknown woman’s, and several bare prints. The bare feet matched Zhong Qiu’s size.

Most likely, Chen Zhenshi had worn Zhong Qiu’s shoes.

We found none of Chen Zhenshi’s fingerprints in the sty and no biological material from him. He had committed a crime without evidence.

Wang Guoqing suddenly said, “Master, could the keeper, Wang Chao, be working with him?”

It was entirely possible.

We split into three teams. One summoned Wang Chao. One investigated every person in Wang Chao’s social circle. The third examined all surveillance footage connected to the keeper.

An ordinary suspect could often be broken by finding contradictions between testimony and physical evidence, then applying the right interrogation technique.

We mobilized the entire bureau and worked without rest, yet found no connection between Wang Chao and Chen Zhenshi.

Nor did any other employee at the pig farm have any link to him.

That lead died as well.

Chen Zhenshi had guided us into a black dead end. Blind in the darkness, we lost every sense of direction.