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墨書 Inktalez
Zhao Mingkun's motorcycle continued to weave through the streets, like a homeless bird flitting about. However, when I leaned in to check the fuel gauge, it was surprisingly full. It was clear that Zhao Mingkun had gone to refuel while I was asleep.
But Zhao Mingkun had been with me all along, and I often wondered what she did at night. She even managed to wake me up early in the morning. Sometimes, I doubted whether this woman was even human—did she need sleep at all?
We arrived in the area and followed the address to the unit where Liu Ruijie lived. Liu Ruijie's rented apartment was 901 in Building Three, but when we got there, the door was locked. No matter how much we knocked or rang the bell, there was no response from inside.
"Has he moved out?" Zhao Mingkun glanced at me.
I stepped back and scrutinized the entrance of 901 carefully.
After a moment, I spoke to Zhao Mingkun, "Look at this doormat; it's obvious that there's a lot of dust on both sides, but not much in the middle. This means someone frequently steps on the center of the mat to enter. The dust on the sides indicates that whoever lives here doesn't pay much attention to cleanliness. And look at the wall—there's no clutter anywhere else, but this wall is plastered with advertisements that haven't been cleaned."
I pointed at the door frame and said, "Do you notice something missing?"
"Missing something?" Zhao Mingkun looked around but didn't provide an answer.
I turned and pointed at the door frame across from us and said, "Couplets! Their door frame is missing couplets. Look closely; there are no signs of tape or glue residue, which means they never put up Spring Festival couplets at all. The Spring Festival just passed not long ago, yet look at other people's couplets—they're still as new as ever."
"What does this indicate?" Zhao Mingkun asked, puzzled.
I rested my chin on my hand and replied, "This suggests that someone living here is careless and neglects hygiene. If I had to guess, it must be a man. He has lost his passion for life; even during the New Year, he doesn't bother with couplets. This definitely isn't a young guy."
I lightly tapped my chin as I continued analyzing, "From these points combined, it seems a middle-aged man in his forties lives here alone, without his wife or children by his side. He has a stocky build, thinning hair, and likely has a drinking problem."
Zhao Mingkun nodded and said, "So you mean Liu Ruijie still lives here? Seven years ago he was in his thirties; now he fits your description perfectly."
"Exactly," I confirmed. "That's precisely what I mean."
Zhao Mingkun fell silent for a moment and then asked, "But what if he doesn't?"
I shook my head and said, "It’s impossible that it isn’t. I wasn’t born a police officer. If I were, I wouldn’t dare to make assumptions without sufficient evidence. Their job is to make deductions based on a wealth of evidence. For me, it’s different."
I pointed to my head and continued, "I make an assumption first, then look for evidence. If I can’t find any, I change my assumption. This is a significant difference between my thinking and that of the police. Perhaps this is also why Captain Shao pulled me out. Assumptions and evidence corroborate each other; Liu Ruijie is definitely still living here."
"However," I shook my head again, "it seems that Liu Ruijie hasn’t reconciled with his wife. What do you think the reason is?"
Zhao Mingkun knocked on the door while saying, "His wife hasn’t forgiven him. Or maybe he took that money but didn’t pay off his debts and went gambling instead?"
"That’s unlikely," I replied. "If he still had a gambling addiction, he wouldn’t have been able to stay here for such a long time. During his gambling phase, he might have committed domestic violence against his wife, which is why she hasn’t forgiven him; that’s certainly a possibility. But there’s another possibility."
"What is it?" Zhao Mingkun asked.
I slowly said, "Liu Ruijie killed someone seven years ago, and in order not to implicate his wife and children, he actually doesn’t want to go back. That’s another possibility based on Liu Ruijie having committed murder. But whatever the reason may be, Liu Ruijie is indeed still living here. It’s seven o'clock now; he might not have gotten up yet."
After knocking a few more times on the door with no response, Zhao Mingkun glanced at me and said, "Let’s find the property manager; the longer we stay in one place, the more dangerous it becomes."
Half an hour later, the Property Manager arrived. I displayed my Police Badge again, and after several unsuccessful knocks on the door, the Property Manager took out a spare key. However, after trying to unlock the wooden door for a moment, it wouldn’t budge at all.
"Has the lock been changed?" I asked with a frown.
"No!" the Property Manager replied. "Look, the security door is open, but this inner door won’t budge at all. The key won’t turn; it seems he locked it from the inside. Hey! Don’t sleep! Open the door! Police!"
But no matter how much we shouted, there was no response from inside. A sense of foreboding rose within me; such loud knocking and shouting must have been heard by other residents in the building, yet there was no reaction from within. Since the door was locked from the inside, it proved that someone was definitely home.
Someone was inside but unable to open the door; at that moment, I didn’t want to think any further.
"Let's break it down!" Zhao Mingkun looked at the two of us and said, "There must be someone inside, and the situation is likely dire."
We exchanged glances, counted to three, and then charged at the door. Just as I felt a burning pain in my shoulder, we heard a loud crack as the wooden door finally gave way. I was grateful that it was just a simple latch and not a more advanced lock.
As soon as we burst through the door, a foul stench hit us like a wall. The smell was overwhelming, nearly causing us to gag. At the same time, my heart sank. This mixed odor was all too familiar from my time as an auxiliary police officer, and it was certainly not pleasant.
It was the unmistakable scent of feces combined with the stench of decay—the typical odor of a corpse.
As we looked around, we saw a person lying on the ground, leaning back.
Judging by the person's physique, they were of average build but had a notably distended belly. It was almost certain that this person was Liu Ruijie. What I hadn’t expected was that Liu Ruijie was already dead.
"Stay here and don't move," I told the Property Manager. "We'll go check it out."
The Property Manager nodded, and Zhao Mingkun and I moved closer.
As we approached the body, the stench intensified. Zhao Mingkun rummaged through his pockets and handed me a disposable mask and gloves.
"You sure have a lot of stuff in your pockets," I remarked.
Zhao Mingkun shrugged and replied with a double entendre, "Well, that's just part of my job."
We crouched down and finally located the source of the foul odor. In the groin area of the corpse, there was a noticeable patch of yellow, congealed liquid on the pants, and near the pant leg, there was a dried lump of feces.
I pointed at the lump and said, "The fact that feces can fall to this position from the groin means it didn't happen post-mortem. This indicates that he must have soiled himself while still alive; however, it's unusual for a middle-aged man to experience such incontinence without any underlying health issues."
Zhao Mingkun furrowed her brows and covered her nose with her wrist, her voice muffled as she asked, "What could possibly cause a grown man to lose control like that without being sick?"
I looked at the traces on the floor: one slipper near the door and another worn on a foot. The opening of the slipper faced inward, suggesting that Liu Ruijie must have been backing away when he left the first slipper near the entrance.
In that moment, for some reason, Liu Ruijie suddenly lost control of his bowels. During this process, he unfortunately slipped on his own urine and feces, falling to the ground.
"Fear," I stated firmly. "If there’s anything that could cause a middle-aged man to lose control like that, it would only be fear. Looking at Liu Ruijie's clothing, which was just ordinary pajamas, and his footwear, which were slippers, it’s clear he must have heard someone knocking at the door either in the morning or just before going to bed."
Zhao Mingkun nodded.
I continued, "When he opened the door, someone walked in, and that person should be the Murderer. Upon seeing the Murderer, Liu Ruijie suddenly felt an overwhelming fear. He backed away, and in that instant, he lost control and fell to the ground. You see him covering his eyes with his hands; psychologically, this is an act of avoidance."
"In other words," I added, "Liu Ruijie was terrified of this person who came in."
Zhao Mingkun stood up and looked at me. "Are you saying that this person scared him to death? But I have a question for you: do you think the Murderer is human?"
"Of course," I replied almost without thinking. "The Murderer is definitely human; otherwise, could it be a ghost committing murder?"
Zhao Mingkun nodded. "I'm not as staunch an atheist as you are, but if it was a human who killed him, how did the Murderer escape? This is the ninth floor; surely the Murderer couldn't have jumped out of the window after committing murder. This place is essentially a locked room; you can see that the door is bolted from the inside."
He pointed to the lock on the door, which was indeed bolted.
"If it was done by a human," Zhao Mingkun said slowly, "how did the Murderer lock the door after leaving this room? If he is human, how could he have accomplished that? Or perhaps Liu Ruijie was alone in this room all along. What scared him into losing control wasn’t human but something else entirely."
It was clear as day, yet hearing Zhao Mingkun's words still sent chills down my spine.
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