Chapter 258: The Death of the Insurance Investigator

2022-05-20

Zhao Mingkun’s motorbike still weaved through the city streets like a restless bird with nowhere to land. When I leaned forward to check the gas gauge, I was surprised to see it was still full. That meant, once again, Zhao Mingkun must’ve gone out to refuel while I was sleeping.

The strange thing was, Zhao Mingkun spent all day with me and who knew what she got up to at night, yet she somehow always woke me up bright and early the next morning. Sometimes I seriously wondered if she was even human, or if she ever needed to sleep at all.

We pulled up at the apartment complex and followed the address to Liu Ruijie’s building. He was renting unit 901 in building three. When we got there, the door was locked. No one answered when we knocked or rang the bell.

“Did he move out?” Zhao Mingkun glanced at me.

I stepped back and studied the entrance to 901.

After a moment, I said to Zhao Mingkun, “Check out this doormat. See how both sides are covered in dust, but the middle is a lot cleaner? That means someone uses the center of the mat to come and go pretty often. The fact that both sides are dusty shows the person living here doesn’t really care about cleanliness. And look at the wall—everywhere else is mostly clean, but this stretch is plastered with flyers. Clearly, no one’s bothered to tidy those up either.”

I pointed to the doorframe. “Notice anything missing?”

“Missing?” Zhao Mingkun looked but didn’t answer.

I gestured at the neighboring doorway. “The Spring Festival couplets! His doorframe is bare. And there aren’t any traces of tape or glue either, which means they were never put up in the first place. It hasn’t been that long since Lunar New Year, and all the other doors still have their couplets looking brand new.”

“So what does that mean?” Zhao Mingkun asked, puzzled.

Resting my chin in my hand, I said, “It means the person living here is careless and pays no mind to cleaning. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s a man. He’s lost interest in life, so even when the holidays roll around, he can’t be bothered to put up decorations. It’s definitely not some young kid.”

Tapping my chin, I went on, “Looking at everything together, it’s a man, probably a middle-aged guy in his forties. He lives here alone with no wife or kids around. He’s overweight, balding, and probably has a drinking problem.”

Zhao Mingkun nodded. “So, you’re saying Liu Ruijie still lives here? Seven years ago he was in his thirties… so now that all adds up.”

“Exactly,” I said. “That’s what I’m thinking.”

Zhao Mingkun fell silent for a moment. “But what if you’re wrong?”

I shook my head. “I’m not wrong. I’m not like those old-school folks who refuse to make a move without hard evidence. They only guess once they have a mountain of proof. I’m different.”

I tapped my forehead. “I make a guess first, then look for proof. If I can’t find it, I try a different theory. Maybe that’s why Team Leader Shao picked me. My guesses and the evidence strengthen each other. I’m certain Liu Ruijie still lives here.”

“But,” I continued, shaking my head, “it looks like Liu Ruijie never got back together with his ex-wife. What do you think the reason is?”

As Zhao Mingkun knocked at the door, she replied, “Maybe his wife never forgave him. Or maybe he took the money and never paid his debts?”

“That’s unlikely,” I said. “His wife not forgiving him is definitely possible, but I think there’s another reason.”

“What reason?” Zhao Mingkun asked.

I spoke slowly. “Seven years ago, Liu Ruijie killed someone. To avoid dragging his wife and kid down with him, maybe he chose to stay away himself. So it’s possible he doesn’t want to go back because he’s a murderer. Either way, the fact is, Liu Ruijie absolutely still lives here. It’s seven a.m. now, so he probably hasn’t woken up yet.”

“Bang bang bang”—We knocked a few more times, but still got nothing.

Zhao Mingkun looked at me. “Let’s call Building Management. The longer we hang around, the more danger we’re in.”

Half an hour later, someone from Building Management arrived. I showed my badge, and with no complaints, they tried knocking multiple times without result before taking out the spare key. But after fiddling with the lock for a while, they couldn’t get the wooden door to open.

“Changed the lock?” I asked, frowning.

“No,” the staff said. “See? The security door is unlocked, but this inner door won’t budge. The key won’t turn—it must be locked from the inside. Hey! Wake up! Open the door!”

No matter how loud they shouted, there was no sound from inside. I got a bad feeling. With all the banging and yelling, the whole building probably heard us, so the person inside definitely should have responded. But the lock was turned from inside, which meant someone had to be home.

But having someone inside and yet nobody coming to open the door… I didn’t even want to consider the possibilities.

“Let’s break it down,” Zhao Mingkun said, glancing at the two of us. “Someone is in there, and chances are, they’re in trouble.”

We exchanged nervous looks, counted to three, and started ramming the door. My shoulder was practically on fire before—crack!—the wooden door finally popped open. Thankfully, this was just a cheap lock, not something fancy.

As soon as we forced the door open, an awful stench hit us full force, almost knocking us back outside. My heart dropped. I knew that smell all too well, and it was never a good sign.

Scanning the room, we saw someone sprawled backwards on the floor.

From the body shape—medium height, large belly—I was almost certain this was Liu Ruijie. But nothing prepared me for the fact that Liu Ruijie was already dead.

“Stay here and don’t move,” I told the building staff. “We’ll check it out.”

They nodded. Zhao Mingkun and I moved in for a closer look.

As we approached the corpse, the stench grew even worse. Zhao Mingkun dug around in her pocket and handed me a disposable mask and gloves.

“You’re pretty well-prepared,” I muttered.

Zhao Mingkun just shrugged, voice layered with meaning. “It’s part of the job.”

We both crouched down, finally tracing the worst of the odor.

I pointed at a chunk of feces. “This isn’t just from post-mortem decay in the abdomen. A middle-aged man shouldn’t be losing control of his bowels like a senior.”

Zhao Mingkun pinched her nose, her voice muffled. “For a grown man with no illness to have this happen—what kind of situation would cause such a loss of control?”

I eyed the scuffs on the floor. One slipper lay near the entrance, another still on his foot. The one by the entrance pointed inward, which meant Liu Ruijie probably stumbled backward, losing one on the way.

In that moment, something spooked him. He slipped and fell.

“Fright,” I said without hesitation. “If anything’s going to make a middle-aged man lose control, it’s sheer terror. Look—he’s wearing pajamas and house slippers. That means it was either morning or night when someone knocked.”

Zhao Mingkun gave a small nod.

“When he opened the door, someone came in. That person had to be the killer. The moment Liu Ruijie saw them, fear overwhelmed him. He stumbled back, lost control, and fell. See how he’s covering his eyes? In psychology, that’s an escape reflex.”

“In other words,” I went on, “Liu Ruijie was terrified of whoever came in. Absolutely terrified.”

Zhao Mingkun stood up and looked at me. “So you’re saying he died from fright? But let me ask you—do you think the killer was human?”

“Of course,” I responded immediately. “It was a person. Who else could it be—are we saying ghosts kill people now?”

Zhao Mingkun nodded. “I’m not as convinced as you are. But if it was a person, how did they escape? We’re on the ninth floor. You don’t kill someone and climb out a window here. It’s a locked-room murder—the front door was bolted from inside, you saw that yourself.”

She pointed at the door’s lock, making it clear it was bolted.

“If a person did this,” Zhao Mingkun said slowly, “how did the killer lock the door behind them and leave? Or maybe Liu Ruijie really was alone. Maybe he was scared by something that’s not even human at all.”

The sun was shining, but Zhao Mingkun’s words still sent a chill down my spine.