Chapter 7: The True Culprit Behind the Deaths

2022-05-20

The deceased was named Luo Zhongcheng, twenty-two years old, and the son of Luo Yongjun. He was found dead in his own home. According to the autopsy report, he died on that rainy night, sometime between five and six in the morning.

When that object got involved, this whole thing got a lot more complicated. The main questions are: where did Luo Zhongcheng get it, and did he have a history with it? After he came home, what exactly happened?

How did so much go down in just a single rainy night?

But if you break it down, it’s clear enough that Luo Zhongcheng was the killer. First, hardly anyone knows about the passageways on both sides of the railway. Even though Luo Zhongcheng didn’t get along with his father Luo Yongjun, they’d been father and son for nearly twenty years. Of course Luo Zhongcheng would know about the passage, and that the electric breaker controlled the entire row of streetlights.

Second, if Luo Yongjun had been the murderer, why bother throwing the body onto the tracks with so much effort? With the only key to the only door, he could have just tossed the corpse onto the railway through the iron gate without messing around with wires.

Third, the sound the two electricians heard—those rhythmic ‘thud thud thud’ noises—was actually Luo Yongjun hitting the tracks. He’d come across the scene while inspecting them. Judging by the timeline, he shouldn’t have been back so soon, but because the streetlights went out, he must’ve come back early.

Fourth, there’s always someone watching, even if you think there’s not. Luo Zhongcheng never imagined that someone riding by on a speeding train would witness him dumping the body. We found an old photo of Luo Zhongcheng, had Xiao Liu send it to the informant, and asked if the person she saw was him.

The informant quickly confirmed it—Luo Zhongcheng was the one she saw dumping the corpse that night.

But here’s the thing: we managed to find the killer, only for him to already be dead.

Xiao Liu shook his head. “This case is both simple and tricky. If the informant had spoken up earlier, maybe we would’ve suspected Luo Zhongcheng sooner. Then again, even without the tip, you probably would’ve worked out who the real culprit was. Impressive.”

Xiao Liu praised us then went on, “But it’s tragic that Luo Zhongcheng ended up like this. Who knows what father and son will say to each other in the afterlife. He drowned his own father—what a way to betray your family.”

As Xiao Liu’s anger rose, I said, “Xiao Liu, did you ever consider that maybe Luo Yongjun already knew? Maybe he walked straight into it on purpose.”

“You think he meant to die?” Xiao Liu shook his head. “How could you tell?”

I shrugged. “I’m an orphan, so sometimes family ties confuse me. But think about it: why did Luo Yongjun bring white liquor to the passage? Why was he writing and drawing things out? Remember his diary in the notebook? He said he took responsibility for everything.”

“But when you ran the simulation, you said Luo Yongjun wanted to turn himself in with Luo Zhongcheng,” Xiao Liu protested, sounding more confused.

“That’s true,” I replied. “I still believe he said that to his son—just to push him to make a decision and finish it. Luo Yongjun never knew how to be a father. He was meek, unsure, but no matter what, he was always just that—a father.”

You could see it in Luo Yongjun’s diary. He’d spent his life as a timid railway worker. His wife left him for someone else, he never complained; when his son hit him, he just took it. But on that rainy night, all of Luo Yongjun’s courage and cleverness erupted at once.

It was as if he used up a lifetime’s worth in one shot: covering his tracks, faking his diary, letting his son get him drunk, dying deliberately in the passage. The guts and smarts he showed in those two short hours—most people couldn’t manage that.

I wonder if, at the moment of his death, he remembered his bravest moment—yelling at every train that thundered by.

But what he couldn’t have known was that, just a couple of hours after his death, his son would follow him.

Luo Zhongcheng’s body was eventually taken away. Through all our investigating, we found Luo Zhongcheng didn’t seem to have any bad habits. In fact, he looked strong and healthy; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to climb the pole or toss a body like that.

In other words, he had no experience, or he wouldn’t have died. Which raises the question: whose was it in the first place, and where did he get it?

Team Leader Shao said, “Let’s set aside the question of where it came from and focus on wrapping up the rainy night corpse case. We can look into the origins later. By the way, Wu Meng, before we finished the investigation, you insisted Luo Yongjun wasn’t the killer. How were you so sure?”

I sighed. “Did any of you really look through Luo Yongjun’s first notebook? He kept detailed records about the railway every day. And do you know why he had wire fences put up on both sides of the track?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“Because of Luo Yongjun,” I said. “A few years back, train accidents kept happening. After seeing too many people hit, Luo Yongjun suggested the fences to the bosses to keep kids from wandering onto the tracks. The bosses were spooked by all the incidents, so they agreed. That’s how the fences went up.”

Everyone suddenly understood. Mary nodded and said, “So Luo Yongjun started the fence idea. Makes sense—a guy worried about accidents wouldn’t be the type to kill anyone. He really was a good person.”

“Was he really a good person though?” I disagreed with Mary. “I checked the records for people killed by trains here in recent years. There’s a weird pattern: three deaths, all women, each one between eighteen and twenty-two.”

“All three shared the same thing.” I looked around the room. “All women, all aged eighteen to twenty-two. Don’t you think that’s suspicious? Are they all crazy, just throwing themselves onto train tracks at that age?”

My words left Mary and Team Leader Shao stunned and pale—they realized what I was getting at. Mary coughed nervously and said, “You mean, all those girls were…”

“Exactly. Luo Zhongcheng must have killed before,” I replied with a smile. “But now he’s beyond questioning. If I’m right, he started doing it ages ago, luring victims through the tunnel, dumping the bodies on the tracks.”

“Then the trains would tear the corpses apart, scattering pieces everywhere. Luo Yongjun’s job was to clean up the remains.” I sighed. “Later he decided he couldn’t let his son keep doing this, so he pushed for the wire fence.”

I shrugged. “He never expected the fence wouldn’t stop his own son.”

Everyone stared at me, speechless. Mary shook her head and turned to Team Leader Shao. “This maniac reminds me of you when you were younger—no, no, I mean, his attention to detail and deduction skills, just like you a decade ago.”

Team Leader Shao said, “You’re exactly the person I’ve been looking for.”

As we got ready to close the case, a team we’d sent to that mountain village called in with news. Sure enough, Zhang Hui was still living there—now a mother of four. As for the children’s father, no one had a clue.

When they found Zhang Hui, she started cursing nonstop, using every foul word in the book, then collapsed on the ground sobbing, “Why did it take you so long to come?”

Team Leader Shao thought these details belonged in the final report. Suddenly, he remembered something and told Xiao Liu, “By the way, what’s the name of that informant? We should thank her—without her, we might never have gotten such clear evidence, and we’d still be buried in work.”

Xiao Liu shook his head. “Let me check.”

A short while later, Xiao Liu came back, his face twisted and his brows furrowed.

“What happened to you?” I teased him. “Out for a minute and now you look half-paralyzed. Seriously, go look in a mirror!”

Xiao Liu said, “Wu Meng, if you all keep a straight face after hearing this, I’ll jump off the sixth floor right now.”

“Who is it?” I said.

“I asked the operator. She said the informant called herself Zhang Xutong!” Xiao Liu practically shouted. “She said her name is Zhang Xutong!”

Xiao Liu wasn’t kidding. As soon as we heard the name, everyone looked like they’d swallowed something foul. Zhang Xutong—the informant? Don’t tell me there’s a ghost! Wasn’t Zhang Xutong murdered by Luo Zhongcheng? Is there someone with the same name?

Dozens of questions exploded in my mind.

“Quick, get the autopsy report for that female corpse from the rainy night case!” Team Leader Shao ordered Xiao Liu.

Xiao Liu was fast—soon we had the autopsy in hand. Team Leader Shao read it carefully, then finally said, “According to the bone age testing, this woman was about twenty years old.”

“Even if Zhang Xutong was eighteen when she started college, it’s been four years—she’d be at least twenty-two by now. Which means, the dead woman isn’t Zhang Xutong at all. We got led on a wild goose chase by that homeless guy!” I said helplessly.

“Then who is the deceased?” Xiao Liu asked awkwardly.

I thought for a moment. “Remember those days when several missing persons’ cases got reported? You kept complaining about being shorthanded.”

“You think it’s one of them?”