It was the first time I had ever encountered something so bizarre.
A murder had taken place inside a residential home.
The suspect had more or less been identified, but there were still plenty of questions left unanswered.
As usual, I visited the residents nearby and started with the victim’s neighbor across the hall.
The man of the household was very cooperative.
I questioned him for twenty minutes, and he answered calmly and methodically.
Finally, I asked, “When was the last time you saw the victim?”
He said, “Last weekend. He invited me to go fishing.”
“Was there anything unusual about him at the time?”
“All I remember is that halfway there, he brought up something from the past…”
Then he told me about it: a story from when he was a child on classroom duty, wiping down the tiles at school. It had nothing to do with the case.
Just some trivial little incident that barely mattered.
But halfway through, he suddenly froze.
A moment later, his face went deathly pale.
“I understand now…” he muttered dazedly to himself.
“It’s out of control…”
“What did you say?”
“I’m sorry, Officer Lu. I’m tired. Let’s stop here for today.”
Without another word, he ordered me to leave.
No matter how many times I knocked, he refused to respond.
My colleague and I had no choice but to leave for the time being.
We went down to the first floor, walked out of the apartment building, and reached the car.
Just then, a gust of wind swept past, followed by a thunderous crash- Someone had fallen from the building and slammed hard onto the windshield in front of the car.
His half-open eyes met mine for a brief moment.
Then he died. It was the very witness who had been speaking to me five minutes earlier, the same man who had been so composed ten minutes ago.
There had to be something wrong here.
Now I needed to go back and sort through everything that had just happened from the beginning.
