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墨書 Inktalez
"Rental apartment?" My eyes lit up, and I quickly asked, "Do you know where this rental apartment is? How long has she been living there?"
Pei Dongqiang shook his head and replied, "I only know the location; I don't know how long she has lived there. But I think she’s just staying temporarily before moving in with her new boyfriend. After all, Deng Xuemei is already in her thirties; it's about time for her to get married, or else it might be too late."
"What's the address?" I pressed. "You've been there, right?"
"Yes." Pei Dongqiang nodded and provided me with an address.
Zhao Mingkun and I exchanged glances. I said, "Since that's the case, let's check out what’s inside the rental apartment. However, it’s been two months; I wonder if we can still find anything useful."
"Do we have any other leads?" Zhao Mingkun shrugged.
I sighed and said, "Nope, let’s go."
I stood up, thanked Pei Dongqiang, and left with Zhao Mingkun.
As we walked, I pondered what kind of person Deng Xuemei really was. Different people saw her in different lights. Yet, I felt that something was off, though I couldn't pinpoint what it was.
However, we had no more leads and could only check out the rental apartment. Zhao Mingkun remained cautious on the way; he avoided main roads and chose less populated paths. After more than an hour, we finally arrived at the rental apartment.
In my mind, I had expected this rental place to be of lower quality, but to my surprise, the apartment Pei Dongqiang mentioned was located in a rather upscale area. I was truly grateful that Captain Shao had given me a special police badge for convenience; otherwise, without proper identification, we wouldn't have been able to enter such a place.
We followed the usual procedure and asked the property manager for the room number and landlord's information. We learned that the landlord was currently out of town and wouldn’t be back for a while. However, it seemed that the landlord was quite affluent; upon hearing from the property management that we were investigating a case, he told us we could go in to investigate since he didn’t want his rented property to become someone else's hideout.
From our phone conversation, we confirmed that a person named Deng Xuemei was indeed renting this apartment and had signed a six-month lease. According to the landlord, typically one pays one month’s rent as a deposit plus three months' rent upfront; Deng Xuemei had paid for half a year in advance, indicating she intended to stay long-term.
I furrowed my brow; based on the timeline, Deng Xuemei wasn’t just temporarily living here. However, from Pei Dongqiang's words, it seemed he had only visited once and never returned. So either Pei Dongqiang was mistaken or Deng Xuemei had misled him.
We had arrived at the front door of Deng Xuemei's rented house. However, the door was locked, and after ringing the doorbell for a long time, no one answered. The homeowner had given us a new phone number for Deng Xuemei, but when we called, there was no response.
"Open the door," I said. "I'll take responsibility for whatever happens."
The manager nodded.
The room should be about 120 square meters, with two bedrooms and a living room that included a study. It looked spacious and well-lit, indeed a nice residential area. I took a quick look around; the interior was quite clean, suggesting that someone regularly cleaned it.
The furniture inside was also complete. There was a large 42-inch television in the living room, with the remote control tossed on the sofa. The tea table had some apples and oranges on it, but they looked somewhat wrinkled. I reached out to pick up an apple and squeezed it; it felt dry, indicating it had been there for some time.
I glanced around; the windows were tightly shut.
In criminal investigation studies, there is an important principle: if you want to search a suspect's home, two places are crucial—the kitchen and the bathroom. Eating and drinking are fundamental human activities, and no one can escape them. During this process, people inevitably leave behind traces of themselves; this is known as the material conservation law of crime scenes—Locard's Exchange Principle.
I stepped into the kitchen first. From the plates and chopsticks in the kitchen cabinet, I noticed there were no water droplets on them, indicating that these utensils hadn't been used in a long time. I touched them; they felt dry. I looked at the kitchen trash can, which did contain some garbage.
I crouched down to examine what was inside the trash can. It was filled with napkins, fruit peels, and some leftover food. As I bent down, a sour smell wafted out. I looked closer and took a plastic bag from above the refrigerator to start sorting through the garbage in hopes of finding something useful.
However, I found nothing of value—just discarded cooking materials like bones and such. The amount of trash wasn't much, suggesting that someone had disposed of it not long ago.
I stood up and opened the refrigerator. Inside were several plates with leftover dishes. Upon closer inspection, there was quite a bit of leftover food—definitely more than what one person would eat. I randomly picked up one plate; it contained Braised Eggplant. I leaned in to smell it and detected no sour odor; this dish hadn't spoiled.
Even when stored in the refrigerator, cooked dishes usually develop strange smells after a few days. This indicated that Deng Xuemei must have been in the house recently. Based on my calculations, she likely left home no more than two days ago; it shouldn't have been any longer than that.
Exiting the kitchen, I headed straight into the bathroom.
The bathroom was quite spacious, equipped with a bathtub and a shower. The vanity was cluttered with various women's shower gels and other products. I glanced at them for a moment; the array of functions was overwhelming. There seemed to be three different shampoos alone, not to mention the creams for the face and body.
I shrugged and said helplessly, "It's a women's restroom."
The manager chuckled and replied, "My wife is the same way. We have a ton of cosmetics at home, and she can't leave the house without spending at least an hour getting ready."
I crouched down again to check the wastebasket next to the toilet.
"This!" The manager noticed my action and exclaimed, "That's a bit too disgusting."
I turned to look at him and said, "I don't want to be grossed out either, but this is part of the job."
Ignoring the manager's discomfort, I squatted down and began rummaging through the wastebasket. It was unnecessary to elaborate on what was inside. I held back my nausea and finally found something in the trash—a receipt from a recent shopping trip. The receipt showed the time of purchase and the total amount spent.
Holding the odorous receipt, I examined it closely. It indicated that Deng Xuemei had bought a lot of food and some daily necessities, such as potato chips and ham sausage, along with toilet paper. It seemed that there had been a sale recently, as she had purchased many items, most of which I assumed she wouldn't need.
Shopping truly is a woman's nature.
I stroked my chin thoughtfully; from this receipt, it appeared that Deng Xuemei must have returned home not long ago.
I gently placed the receipt on the vanity and said, "Let's check somewhere else."
I then walked into a bedroom. As soon as I entered, I saw a set of pajamas thrown on the large bed. The comforter was not neatly arranged, and one of the pillows lay carelessly on the floor—it all looked quite messy. From this scene, it seemed likely that Deng Xuemei had changed her clothes and left in a hurry without tidying up.
At that moment, I heard Zhao Mingkun's voice coming from another room calling out, "Wu Meng! Wu Meng!"
"What's wrong?" I turned my head to look outside and asked, "What happened?"
"Come over and see for yourself," Zhao Mingkun replied.
"Okay." I stood up as I walked over.
Zhao Mingkun's voice came from the study. When I entered, I saw him standing in front of a cabinet. Just as I was about to ask what was going on, I took a few steps closer and saw what was inside the cabinet. Suddenly, I understood why Zhao Mingkun had called me over so urgently.
What I found in the study, in that cabinet, were not books but bottles. These jars were labeled with various formulas, and it was clear at a glance that they contained compounds—various chemicals.
Zhao Mingkun and I stared at the assortment of compounds, beakers, condensers, and other lab equipment, our mouths agape in astonishment.
The manager, seeing our reaction, asked in confusion, "What are all these things? Why are you so surprised?"
I shook my head and said, "I think there are enough materials here to concoct various substances, like Calomel and so on. I believe we've finally identified who the murderer is."
"The murderer?" the manager asked. "What murderer?"
Zhao Mingkun spoke up. "That's right. Deng Xuemei is a student from the Biology Department. For her, preparing poison might be second nature. And now it seems that Deng Xuemei has cut off all contact with the outside world. I suspect she has completed whatever she intended to do and has probably fled."
I furrowed my brow and said, "But there are still three people left alive. Don't you find that strange? Why would Deng Xuemei leave those three alive? She has already killed over ten people; killing three more wouldn't be an issue. Is it really because she ran out of time or couldn't find an opportunity?"
As I gazed at the dazzling array of chemicals before me, I fell into deep thought.
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