Chapter 60: A Gradually Growing Confidence

2022-05-20

So, that means Li Taida probably isn’t the mastermind behind these suicides.

As we stepped out of the interrogation room, Xiao Liu returned with Zhao Erming in tow. Just as Zhao Erming had pointed out, we found the body of the dog that had been poisoned. Because it was hidden away, no one had bothered to remove it. Using the Prussian Blue test, we also detected potassium cyanide in the dog’s remains.

So Zhao Erming hadn’t lied.

Back then, only Zhao Erming and Li Taida had actually gotten their hands on potassium cyanide. The others only helped steal it. So who managed to sneak off with it?

Three people have already died by suicide, but up to now, the case is going nowhere.

“Could it be that Gao Rui was already planning it all along and this whole thing has nothing to do with the case?” Guan Zengbin said, “Think about it—after Zhang Mingliang died, maybe Gao Rui was already thinking about suicide. That mysterious person? He just encouraged him, gave him the push. He didn’t have to supply the cyanide.”

I grabbed a fistful of my own hair and spoke slowly, “Since this killer has been able to talk people into suicide, he must have known they were already suicidal. That’s the problem—how did the killer figure out who was on the edge? Did he just go around knocking on doors asking, ‘Hey, do you ever feel like ending it all?'”

Guan Zengbin tapped his forehead, “You mean maybe these people posted somewhere online or something about wanting to end their lives, and the killer saw it, tracked them down, and talked them into it?”

I slammed my hand on the table, “Exactly. That could be it! I’m convinced the killer isn’t some kind of hypnotist or anything. He started after doing some serious digging. Judging by how often these suicides have been happening, I’d say he’s gathered a ton of info and then started chatting up potential victims one by one.”

Once the idea struck me, I immediately called Mary and asked her to check if any of the victims had posted suicidal thoughts online.

“Chatting one by one must have taken some serious effort,” Gu Chen said. “No wonder this guy always seems so busy running around.”

Gu Chen’s comment gave me an idea. I said, “Oh right, let’s get a map of Dongxing City. Three people have died so far. If we mark the places where they died, maybe we’ll spot a connection.”

We spread out a map of Dongxing City in front of us.

I marked each death location with a red circle in order, and wrote down how each person died.

The first to die was Wang Yiman. She lived in Xingyuan Residential Area, in the east of Dongxing City. Cause of death: hanging, note—she was in a white wedding dress.

Next was Gao Rui. He lived in an apartment near Yucai High School, also in the city’s east. Cause of death: potassium cyanide injection, note—he was dressed in a suit.

The most recent death was Li Zhinan. He lived in Yingxin Community, also in the east. Cause of death: jumped in front of a subway, note—his briefcase still hasn’t been found after being knocked away.

Once I’d circled all three locations on the Dongxing City map, a startling coincidence jumped out—all three suicides happened in the eastern part of Dongxing City. From the look of the map, they’re not far apart; even by car each pair is within a two-hour drive. In other words, the locations are all close together.

This tight cluster suggests that the person persuading these victims is probably also living in the east side of Dongxing City.

I pointed at the three red circles. “Martin once wrote in his book that when a killer remains uncaught for a while, a sense of pride tends to creep in almost subconsciously.”

Guan Zengbin and Gu Chen watched me with growing interest.

Still staring at the three circles, I continued, “It’s just part of human nature, like all our joys and sorrows. At times like this, when the killer chooses again, he tends to pick a location closer to his own home.”

With a red pen, I drew lines connecting each pair of the three circles, forming a triangle. “The first time, nerves are high, so the killer usually picks somewhere far from home. It helps them avoid suspicion. But as time goes on and he starts thinking we’re hopeless, he’ll get bolder and pick places closer to home.”

Both of them nodded along. Gu Chen said, “Hey, Wu Meng, when did you get so sharp? Looks like your talents are being wasted here.”

I shrugged. “I just spent my coffee breaks playing cards instead of reading books…”

Guan Zengbin rolled her eyes. “Quit messing around. Spill everything you know.”

I went on, “There’s another theory though—according to another branch of psychology, these points should actually be equidistant.”

Gu Chen nodded thoughtfully. “Both ideas kind of make sense. But what’s your conclusion? Can you guess where the next suicide will happen?”

We all looked at Gu Chen. Realizing how it sounded, he bit his tongue. “I mean, if there even is a next time…”

I sighed. “I just think as long as we haven’t caught the killer, he’s going to keep luring people to suicide. City life is so stressful now—who hasn’t at least considered saying goodbye to everything and everyone at one point? Looks like we’ve still got our work cut out for us.”

Gu Chen flopped onto the sofa and crossed his legs. “Yeah, with modern life and all, suicides just seem to be rising. I don’t get it, though. No matter what happens, being alive means there’s still hope and a million possibilities. Once you’re dead, nothing can ever change.”

He did have a point. When I was younger, I’d thought about ending it all more than once.

If I hadn’t been so afraid of pain, I probably would have done it back then. It’s a good thing nobody ever told me how. These days though, I’ve mostly made peace with it.

I can’t choose my parents, but at least I can choose how I want to live.

Sensing the mood had darkened, Guan Zengbin broke in, “Look, people with thick skin never dwell on stuff like that! Let’s focus. Can you at least narrow down a possible area?”

Her words snapped me out of it. I said, “Yeah. If both theories hold water, then the next suicide won’t be inside this triangle.”

I pointed at the center of the triangle on the map, covering a big swath: Shuncheng Street, East Avenue, Sifeng Street, and more.

“Or, it could be at another point forming a rectangle outside the triangle.”

I tapped an area beyond the triangle. “Right here!”

The map showed it was around Jinlun Road.

So if there’s another suicide, that spot is probably where it’ll happen next.

Gu Chen sprang up, “I’ll call right now. I’ll tell all patrols in this zone to keep a sharp eye out. If another suicide pops up here, at least they’ll be ready for it.”

“Go for it,” I said.

Gu Chen had barely left when Xiao Liu walked in. “Wu, they found Li Zhinan’s briefcase. The subway hit it and it got flung away. Took the staff forever to find it stuffed in a corner.”

“Really?” I asked. “Let’s see what was inside.”

Xiao Liu shook his head. “The briefcase was smashed to pieces. I have no clue what it held—probably just papers. The force tore everything to shreds, but I did find a few scraps.”

He handed me the bits he’d recovered. Some of them had the word ‘bank’ on them, but there wasn’t much left to read. We’d already checked Li Zhinan’s background—he worked at a financial company—so the briefcase probably had nothing to do with the case.

Xiao Liu continued, “Anyway, the cyanide angle is at a dead end. Which way should we go now? There were only two chunks of cyanide to begin with. One went to Li Taida, who put his in beer to try and kill his father. The other went to Zhao Erming, who poisoned the dog.”

I ran a hand through my hair and said, “That stuff is lethal even in tiny amounts. All we have is their own stories—it’s impossible to tell how much they used or what’s left. Are we even sure there were only two pieces?”

“You think someone else had some too?” Xiao Liu propped his chin on his hand. “Leave it to me. I’ll dig into it.”