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墨書 Inktalez
We spent the night cramped in the car, and the next morning we woke up to the crisp autumn breeze. The gentle wind of an autumn morning invigorated us. Although we couldn't clearly see the appearance of the person lurking in the surveillance footage, we did manage to get a good look at the license plate of that Volkswagen.
With this as our breakthrough, without delving into deeper matters, it seemed that this serial murder case would be resolved quickly. Mary found the owner of the car online and discovered that it had recently been scrapped and sent to a junkyard in the suburbs of Jing City for destruction. The owner's information was complete; he didn't seem like a killer. The killer must have gone to the junkyard and either bought or stolen this car.
The address was in the suburbs of Jing City. I was responsible for driving while Mary continued to monitor updates from the Police Department online. Yesterday at the hotel, I had clearly exposed myself, prompting the Police Department to strengthen their vigilance. They were almost working around the clock searching near that hotel and had begun dispatching additional personnel to search for us throughout the city.
However, before they grasped our plans, it would be nearly impossible for them to catch me. We arrived at the junkyard, which was a place where a scrap car recycling company stored abandoned vehicles. As we drove closer, we could see piles of scrapped cars forming small mountains, which was quite impressive.
The person overseeing the junkyard was an elderly man who seemed indifferent to our arrival. After parking, we got out of the car, and I approached him saying, "Old Man, we are from the Police Department and are here to inquire about some matters." As I spoke, I waved Mary's credentials in front of him.
The old man appeared uninterested, looking like someone who would scoff at anyone who approached him. His teeth were yellowed, and his fingers were stained with smoke; he looked like a long-time smoker. It was surprising that he wasn't smoking at that moment.
I chuckled inwardly and quickly pulled out a pack of Soft Zhonghua cigarettes from my pocket. My heart ached a little, but in order to prove my sincerity, I reluctantly tossed them to him. Upon seeing the pack of Soft Zhonghua, his face lit up as if he had seen an old friend. He broke into a wide grin and lit one up as he said, "Comrade, feel free to ask whatever you need; I'll tell you everything I know."
To my surprise, he even spoke quite eloquently. I shook my head helplessly and said, "About a month ago, did anyone purchase or rent a scrapped vehicle from you? A black Volkswagen sedan with this license plate..." I pulled out my phone and showed him a picture of the black Volkswagen.
The old man hesitated as if recalling something but also seemed unsure about what he knew. It appeared he had some reservations; he knew that according to regulations, scrapped cars couldn't be sold to individuals or organizations without proper authorization. From his expression, it seemed he knew something.
With this realization in mind, I said to him, "Old Man, don't hold back; we're not here to target you. If you can provide useful leads, we might reward you. These Soft Zhonghua are good smokes; if you help us solve this case, there could be more rewards coming your way."
Upon hearing my promise, he nodded and quietly said, "To be honest, just looking at this mess earns me very little each month. So behind the scenes, I've been involved in some shady dealings with scrapped cars as long as they’re returned before they’re officially scrapped. Many people come here to rent cars because it's cheap."
I nodded for him to continue.
"It doesn't matter what car you want; as long as it runs, it's a thousand yuan deposit and forty yuan per day for rent. You settle up when you return it." The old man continued smoking his Soft Zhonghua as he spoke: "Of course, all cars in this junkyard are accounted for; when they’re scrapped, they have to be checked against records. So we keep records here; I might not remember this specific car well but there should be something in our logs."
Saying this, he turned around and went into his office to retrieve a notebook. He said, "We only keep names and phone numbers along with rental models and dates; we don’t ask too many questions beyond that. Is something wrong with this car? Did it hit someone?"
I smiled and replied, "Old Man, it's better if you don't ask about those things; ignorance is bliss."
He chuckled while continuing to smoke as I flipped through the ledger. After some time searching, I finally found traces of that car from about a month ago; it seemed this industry was still thriving. The vehicle had been rented out a month ago by someone named Cheng Gong whose phone number was listed right after his name.
I immediately tried to call the number, only to find that it was disconnected. Shaking my head, I thought to myself that something unusual must be afoot. The disconnection indicated that this person was highly suspicious. With that in mind, I handed the phone to Mary and asked her to look up the owner of the number online.
About thirty minutes later, Mary found out who the person was; indeed, the name was Cheng Gong. I frowned; it seemed this killer was quite straightforward, using his real name in such a place. He certainly wasn't a competent criminal. I returned the ledger to the old man and instructed him, "If anyone asks, don't mention that I was here." As I spoke, I tossed him a pack of Soft Zhonghua cigarettes.
The old man immediately saluted me like a Young Pioneer and said, "Don't worry, I'll make sure to complete the task."
After leaving the old man, Mary had already found detailed information about Cheng Gong on her computer. It turned out that he had resigned from his company over a month ago and had seemingly vanished since then, never to be seen again. Our next destination was Cheng Gong's home to see if he had abandoned his house as well. This was an ordinary neighborhood in the northern part of the city, and we encountered no obstacles as we entered.
We went straight to Cheng Gong's house and stood at the door, which was tightly shut. I immediately asked Mary to contact the property management to open the door. When it swung open, a foul odor wafted out; the room was filled with a stench. As soon as I caught a whiff of it, I knew something was wrong. Sure enough, a corpse lay sprawled in the bedroom.
Although I wasn't a professional forensic expert, having followed Juan Juan for so long had allowed me to discern some things. It appeared that this person had been dead for at least ten days; the body had already begun to decompose significantly. The bedroom was filled with flowers and pomelos, seemingly placed there to mask the odor and delay the time before someone detected the stench of decay.
There were no specific wounds on the body, making it difficult for me to determine how this person died. The corpse's hand was curled up as if clutching something or perhaps pointing at something. Following the direction of the body, I noticed something under the bed.
I put on gloves and pulled out what appeared to be a pendant with a character for "moon" inscribed on it. It seemed that before dying, the victim wanted to convey something important to us. As I carefully observed my surroundings, Mary had already put on gloves and opened the deceased's computer.
I moved through each room, already forming a simple conclusion in my mind. At that moment, Mary said to me, "The deceased's computer has been completely wiped clean, but I have a way to recover it."
The property staff stood there dumbfounded by everything happening around them, unsure of what to do next. I told him, "Your task now is to do nothing; just leave everything here to us." I couldn't let him call the police yet; at least not until we obtained what we needed.
Mary retrieved a deleted photo from the deceased's computer; it showed the victim with a woman in an intimate pose—they looked like a couple. I focused on their background; perhaps all mysteries were about to unravel because on the table in the background were two identical work badges.
"We're leaving," I whispered to Mary. "I have a lead."
Mary nodded and then asked, "Should we destroy this evidence or...?"
I shook my head and replied, "This is crucial evidence proving our innocence. Leave this important clue for Old Wang and them; call them in half an hour. Also leave behind any information about Cheng Gong from our USB drive along with rental car details. The more they know, the better we can clear our names."
"But right now, this evidence isn't enough to prove my innocence," I said. "We need to pay a visit to Hongda Corporation."
We walked out, leaving the property manager dumbfounded. I patted him on the shoulder and said, "We're going to investigate other leads now. Your task is to close the door and wait for our colleagues to take over. Make sure no one else enters this room."
Although I had a rough outline of the case in my mind, the identity of the perpetrator remained a mystery. Whether it was suicide or homicide, I couldn't draw a definitive conclusion yet. Both possibilities seemed plausible. If only Juan Juan were here; at least I could determine how he died.
"Brother Shao, what clues did you find?" Mary asked me in the car.
"The photo you found has two work badges in the background," I replied. "And judging by their closeness, they should be a couple. If that's the case, we can connect everything into a single line of reasoning. Analyzing from this point, we're getting closer to the truth, of course, excluding who wants to frame me."
"Work badges?" Mary pouted. "Do you think it's Passion Killing or something? Can you really deduce anything from just a work badge?"
I shook my head and said seriously, "Yes, because the company on the badge is Hongda Corporation."
"Hongda Corporation?" Mary continued to ask. "Is that crucial?"
"Absolutely, it's very crucial," I said as I accelerated. "You might not have noticed, but Wu Jianye is the chairman of this company, and Wu Shuhau is the sales manager. Knowing this makes it significant."
On my first trip out to sea, I encountered a well-known Bengal Aid Worker. Young and impulsive, but too poor to actually make a move until the First Mate told me that a bag of instant noodles could get me through a night with a group of women...
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