Chapter 193: The Fallen Child

2022-05-20

The story comes to a sudden halt here, leaving nothing more to be said.

At first glance, it’s a plain story, barely stirring the heart. If you didn’t already know it was written by the killer, you’d think it was just a day in the life of someone called Old Wang.

Judging by this diary, it seems the main character has lost all enthusiasm for the world around him.

He drags himself to work with no passion, never fits in with those around him. To others, he’s just cheap labor, and the kids treat Old Wang like a fool. All of this, Old Wang notices and hears, but he never says a word and doesn’t seem angry at all.

From the story, we gather that Old Wang has an ex-wife but no children. He and his wife divorced five years ago for reasons unknown. His life hasn’t had a ripple since. Old Wang just moves through the world like a walking corpse.

Outside, the world bustles, but it all seems to have nothing to do with Old Wang.

Staring down this dull, indifferent world, Old Wang often drifts into fantasies. He imagines a workplace accident—blood everywhere. He dreams of having some story with the widow next door. He wishes the noisy kids would just die so they’d stop bothering him.

Old Wang has plenty of fantasies, but not one has ever come true.

Finally, after helping someone one last time, Old Wang grabs a rope and decides to hang himself.

That’s Old Wang’s story—the story of someone whose heart has died beyond repair.

Maybe Old Wang’s heart died the day he divorced his wife.

So, in this story, who will die?

Someone had already gone through this file with a red pen, marking things up. Looking closely, I saw that every mark fell on a person in the story. I started to wonder, out of all these people, who would be the one to die?

We sat in silence for a moment before Team Leader Shao cleared his throat and said, “I think we’ve all finished reading the story. The killer put himself in Old Wang’s shoes, using his eyes to show what goes through the mind of someone planning to take their own life.”

We all looked over at Team Leader Shao.

He scanned our faces, then went on, “It’s a short story, but there’s a handful of people we can pull out from it. First and foremost is Old Wang, the main character—we can easily see he’s planning to end his life.”

When nobody objected, Team Leader Shao continued, “Now let’s break it down from the start. There’s Mrs. Li—she’s probably not going to die, just a passing mention. Then there are the people from Old Wang’s fantasies: an unnamed worker, for one.”

At that point, Team Leader Li jumped in. “That’s right, it all comes down to those three scenes from his imagination. Judging by the context, Old Wang wishes these people were dead. Not the unnamed worker, but that’s the first person. The second is a widow—he doesn’t wish her dead, but she matters. Then there’s that noisy kid—the one the killer clearly wishes death on.”

Team Leader Shao met Team Leader Li’s eyes, for once didn’t argue, and just nodded in agreement. Clearly, they’re both focused when it comes to the case.

“If we look at it that way, you’re probably right,” Team Leader Shao said. “But we can’t rule out some of the others, either—a woman who asked Old Wang to fix her plumbing, an elderly lady who wanted help moving stuff, and a kid who snatched fifty yuan from Old Wang.”

“What do you think?” Team Leader Shao turned to me.

I let out a sigh and tugged at my hair as I answered, “If I had to guess, I’d say someone jumped to their death—or maybe was tossed off the building. That loud sound at the end, there’s no way a stool would make a noise like that.”

Looking around at everyone, I continued, “At the end of the story, the killer even asks what that noise really was. Given the killer’s usual style, that’s got to be a clue, and one that points to death. If I’m not wrong, the one who fell must have been a child.”

“How do you know?” Team Leader Li raised an eyebrow, a little skeptical.

I met his gaze and said, “Just instinct and deduction. If the killer wanted to make this work, a child would be much easier to handle than an adult. Even if an adult passed out, it wouldn’t be easy to drag them out and throw them down a stairwell.”

Team Leader Li shrugged. “A guess is a guess. You can’t solve cases on guesses alone. Right now, our priority is to pin down which apartment complex this happened in.”

“But the story doesn’t mention the place at all,” Gu Chen said.

I nodded, starting to worry. “That’s why we’ve never caught this killer. They never mention a location. Dongxing City is huge—finding the right spot without even a single clue is next to impossible.”

Thinking it through, I added, “Since that’s how it is, news about a child falling from a building will surely come out by tomorrow. Mary, please keep an eye out for any news like that. This could be our only real shot at quickly figuring out where the killer struck. If we miss it, we could be searching for a very long time before we find them.”

Mary nodded, gave her computer an encouraging pat, and said, “No problem. It’ll just take time. Like I said, Dongxing City is a massive place. More children fall from buildings here than you probably realize.”

We went quiet again. After a moment, I added, “If you think about it, not everyone who falls from a building actually dies. We should also consider the ones who survive but are injured.”

Team Leader Shao was absentmindedly rubbing his teacup before he finally spoke. “The press!”

“What?” We all looked at him.

Team Leader Shao slapped the desk and continued, “Reporters move faster than anyone. If something like this happens, you can bet the reporters will get there before us. If we wait for the news to come out before hunting down the apartment complex, we’ll be too late. I’ll have Old Bai call up the main newspapers. That way, if anything comes up, we’ll hear about it right away.”

Silence fell again, and everyone’s faces grew heavy with worry.

I closed my eyes and forced myself to picture it. In the dead of night, when everyone else was lost in dreams, Old Wang got ready. He had his rope, his stool, and he was about to hang himself from a clothes rod on the balcony. As soon as he kicked the stool, there was a thundering crash.

That sound wasn’t the stool hitting the floor, but something—or someone—falling hard from the building.

It was a child, a kid who loved to play. But he’d never played this late before. His family searched frantically, shouting his name everywhere, calling his classmates, desperate for any lead.

But it was useless. Nobody knew where the child had gone.

He’d been on the rooftop all along, watching the people below—watching his parents. He was crying, wanting to shout out, but he couldn’t. His hands and feet were tied tight, his mouth was stuffed so he couldn’t make a sound. There was no way for him to let his parents—who were right below—know where he was.

As I pictured it, I suddenly said, “This building can’t be too tall.”

“Why do you always have so much to say?” Team Leader Li gave me another look.

I replied, “If we’re talking high-rise buildings, they’d have elevators. But this place? My guess is it’s in one of the old neighborhoods, those six-story buildings without elevators. Remember that old man who told Old Wang just to leave things by the door? If there was an elevator, Old Wang wouldn’t have been needed.”

I went on, “If we’re talking a six-story building, there wouldn’t be that many residents. It’s reasonable for everyone—even the kids—to know a guy like Old Wang, the neighborhood nice guy. So the building must be no taller than six floors.”

The others nodded. Team Leader Shao was still on the phone, but when he heard my reasoning, he shot me a thumbs up.

Mary pulled up the city’s construction plans and said, “No elevator means no more than six stories, and if someone could die from falling, anything under three stories is out. That narrows it down quite a bit.”

Team Leader Shao wrapped up his call and said, “Exactly. I’ll talk to the heads of the newspapers in a bit. After the killer finishes a story, there’s always a murder, and sometimes another after a while. This time, we have to stop them.”

I nodded, falling silent, lost in thought again.

The building wasn’t high, but the kid’s parents never once thought to look up. The killer thrived on this—the feeling of being right in front of them but completely unseen. Six stories—twenty meters up at most. A walk takes just ten seconds, but a fall is over in less than one.

In a heartbeat, the kid hit the ground as everyone watched.

In that final moment, the child was still alive. He looked at his parents and wanted to speak, but never got the chance. His parents stared in shock, frozen. The killer, hidden in the darkness, was grinning silently.

Just twenty meters, yet it was the greatest distance in the world—the chasm between life and death.