Chapter 272: The Circular Clue

2022-05-20

From Luo Ding’s notebook, it was clear his writing had no structure at all, with strokes scattered all over the page. The handwriting was so wild that I had to piece together each character from the context just to understand it. As a college student at Dongxing University who wasn’t even studying medicine, his scrawl really didn’t do the university’s reputation any favors.

Still, Luo Ding’s notes showed just how much pressure he was under when writing. He was terrified he might die soon, so he hurriedly scribbled down everything he knew.

Luo Ding was a homebody. He knew he’d never catch Lü Zhiqiu’s interest; his timid personality made it clear. There was no way he’d dare steal her clothes of his own accord.

Back in college, Luo Ding got hooked on computer games. That was when you had to pay for game cards, and he spent half of his tuition money on them. As the payment deadline approached, he was still short 1,500 yuan, borrowing left and right. That’s when Wang Yikai found out and offered him a deal.

It was the start of the last semester of senior year when the university arranged internships. Acting as class monitor, Wang Yikai dragged Luo Ding along. That’s what led Luo Ding to sneak into the girls’ dormitory to steal Lü Zhiqiu’s clothes. But wouldn’t you know it, Xing Yafang caught him red-handed, and Luo Ding ran off in terror clutching the clothes.

Wang Yikai chewed him out for messing everything up but still handed him a thousand yuan as hush money and told him to return the clothes immediately.

That night, Luo Ding invited Lü Zhiqiu out. She agreed, wanting to talk about the incident. After mulling it over, Luo Ding decided he had to come clean about what had happened. After all, Wang Yikai had been aggressively pursuing Lü Zhiqiu. If his pursuit succeeded, fine, but if not, who knew what Wang Yikai might do?

Just as Luo Ding was about to open up, he spotted a blurry figure approaching. From a distance, he saw it was Wang Yikai. Feeling awkward, Luo Ding left right away.

Luo Ding had no idea when Wang Yikai returned, but the next day, Lü Zhiqiu was dead.

That made Luo Ding certain that Wang Yikai was responsible, but he had no proof and didn’t dare say anything. He was scared that if he poked around, Wang Yikai might kill him, too. After all, Lü Zhiqiu had died so horribly, and Luo Ding had seen her body with his own eyes.

In his notes, Luo Ding described how Wang Yikai seemed normal on the surface. Before having him return the clothes, Wang Yikai made sure to sniff them, looking totally satisfied. That was the moment Luo Ding became convinced Wang Yikai was capable of murder.

“If he can’t have her, he’ll destroy her,” I said quietly, shaking my head.

“What?” Zhao Mingkun asked after hearing me mutter.

I leaned in close to Zhao Mingkun’s ear. “According to Luo Ding’s notebook, he believed Wang Yikai was the real murderer. The whole thing was Wang Yikai’s idea. Later, Luo Ding arranged to meet Lü Zhiqiu, but Wang Yikai showed up midway, so Luo Ding left. The next day, Lü Zhiqiu was dead.”

“So Wang Yikai killed her because he couldn’t have her?” Zhao Mingkun asked.

I nodded. “Luo Ding speculated that, fueled by booze, Wang Yikai confessed his feelings to Lü Zhiqiu that night. But she was still dating Hu Pei and turned him down. The more Wang Yikai stewed about it, the angrier he got. When Lü Zhiqiu turned to leave, he grabbed a brick and killed her on impulse.”

“What about the weapon used for dismembering her?” Zhao Mingkun pressed.

I paused for a moment. “Most likely a plastering trowel. They’re everywhere at construction sites. No fingerprints, probably used gloves—which are also easy to find at a site.”

I patted Zhao Mingkun on the shoulder. “Given all this, it seems likely he used items that are just lying around at a construction site. If the murder was premeditated, he must have had a plan.”

“Naturally,” Zhao Mingkun said.

I nodded. “But from our analysis, it doesn’t look like there was much planning. If that’s true, then it probably wasn’t Hu Pei or Liu Ruijie. If either of them planned it, they would’ve prepared in advance, not just grabbed whatever was handy at the site.”

“If it’s not those two,” Zhao Mingkun said, watching me in the rearview mirror, “we need to look into where Liu Ruijie’s fifty thousand came from. That life insurance was worth a million—so who got the money?”

Something still felt off. “But think about it: if Hu Pei didn’t do it, why was he so scared? How could he have been frightened to death? That part just doesn’t add up. And judging by Jiang Xiaochun’s behavior, there’s something fishy there, too.”

I shook my head in frustration.

Now these clues felt like a circle. No matter what point we started analyzing from, we always ended up back at the beginning—or could justify stopping anywhere. On top of that, Hu Pei and Liu Ruijie’s suspicions weren’t cleared, yet now there was an even more suspicious figure: Wang Yikai.

When a man is about to die, his words are sincere. Plus, Luo Ding had no reason to slander a former classmate he hadn’t spoken to in seven years, especially when he thought he was about to die. If what Luo Ding wrote is true, could Wang Yikai really be the murderer?

Back at the Royal Garden Hotel, Wang Yikai had always seemed to dislike us. I wondered if that resentment carried a hint of something darker.

After a long silence, Zhao Mingkun finally spoke. “These thirteen people all have their suspicions, but some are bigger suspects than others. Why don’t you list them by priority? We’ll go talk to them in that order—how does that sound?”

“Good idea,” I said, snapping my fingers.

I went on, “Luo Ding’s out of the picture now. It’s a shame—if the killer had found his notebook earlier, maybe Luo Ding wouldn’t have died from fear. Right now, Wang Yikai is our top suspect. After him, it’s the deceased Liu Ruijie and Hu Pei. The rest are about equal. Out of the people in Wang Yikai’s dorm, Zhang Yifa, Cheng Lu, and Sun Shouwang are the least suspicious.”

I continued, “Since Wang Yikai was so obsessed with Lü Zhiqiu, his roommates probably wouldn’t have chased after her, too. That night, after drinking, Wang Yikai said some crazy stuff about wanting to ruin or kill Lü Zhiqiu. I figure the other three were just following his lead—not taking him seriously, and likely didn’t mean it.”

This time, Zhao Mingkun countered with my own words: “That’s not certain. You never really know what’s in someone’s heart. Sure, Wang Yikai was after Lü Zhiqiu, but who’s to say the other guys weren’t interested, too? If Wang Yikai couldn’t win her over, they surely couldn’t, either. So maybe, out of desperation, they just decided to take her out.”

“But there weren’t any signs of Lü Zhiqiu’s clothes being ripped,” I pointed out. “If they wanted her that badly, would they really just leave it at that?”

Zhao Mingkun just shook his head. “Let me tell you a story from when Wu Zui was a kid. Back then, at around seven or eight, he wanted someone else’s remote control car. The other boy wouldn’t let him play with it, no matter how he asked. One day when that boy left, Wu Zui smashed the car and tossed it in the backyard.”

“At the time, I didn’t realize Wu Zui’s personality was already twisted. I asked him, ‘Didn’t you want to play with the car?’ Wu Zui explained that if he played with it, the motor would make a loud noise—it’d give him away. So he just broke it and threw it away where no one would find it. In the end, no one ever figured out who destroyed that car.”

“A strong reaction can draw unwanted attention,” Zhao Mingkun said. “So sometimes it’s easier to just quietly destroy something—and make sure no one ever gets it again.”

I was silent for a long while after hearing that. The idea that if you can’t have something, no one else can—that kind of darkness is terrifying. It might be the ugliest part of human nature.

Helpless, I said, “So what’s the point of ranking suspects? Other than ruling out Luo Ding, everyone else still seems equally suspicious. Add Liu Ruijie and Hu Pei, and that’s fourteen suspects in all. Plus, we’ve got no physical evidence—just some photos of the corpse. Unless we get lucky, who knows if we’ll uncover the truth from seven years ago before the killer finishes off the other eleven.”

Catching my gloomy tone, Zhao Mingkun tried to reassure me. “If the truth was easy to find, it wouldn’t be called the truth. Anyway, at least we can rule out Luo Ding. One at a time, right? We’re almost at Wang Xianduo’s place. Get ready to ask if she was really involved in the murder seven years ago.”

“Doesn’t seem likely,” I replied. “From the way Wang Xianduo acts, she doesn’t even seem to believe the killer would bother coming after her. She doesn’t seem scared at all. But now we know what our killer’s like—better to kill a hundred by mistake than let one go free.”

Right now we’re attacking from both sides: Zhao Mingkun and I are digging into what happened seven years ago, while Gu Chen is looking into Lü Xiangyang. No matter who uncovers something first, we might at least stop the killer from claiming more lives. Of course, some of these people probably feel like Lü Zhiqiu’s death worked in their favor—maybe even hoped for it.

But the killer couldn’t possibly be all thirteen. You can’t just kill someone because they wished harm on another. Until those thoughts turn into action, they’re innocent—maybe immoral, but not criminal.

I wondered what story Wang Xianduo would tell us. Who would turn out to be the real murderer in her version?