Chapter Five: Sharing a Bed, Dreaming Different Dreams

Several officers escorted Madam Hao to her doorstep, with Liu Rushuang and Bai Yulou following close behind. Madam Hao’s home was a modest, weathered residence. Faded New Year prints and couplets clung to the mottled doors, even the metal rings gleaming from years of use.

Ying Xi strode forward and kicked the door open. From inside came the voice of Madam Hao’s son, Dabao.

“Mother, you’re back?”

Dabao was seventeen or eighteen, tall and lean, with bold eyebrows and bright eyes, lips red and teeth white—a handsome youth, if not for his crippled leg. He half-sat on the bed, beaming at the doorway, only to freeze when he saw his mother in police custody.

“Your mother isn’t coming back. You’ll have to come with us!” Ying Xi’s tone was sharp.

“Son, quickly explain to the Inspector! Tell him you didn’t kill anyone…” Madam Hao wailed from outside.

“Stop playing the tragic mother,” Ying Xi said impatiently, signaling the officers. “Go in and seize him.”

The officers surged inside, pinning Dabao down. Terrified by the forceful display, Dabao burst into tears.

“What are you doing? Mother, help me…”

Madam Hao tried to rush to her son, but two officers restrained her. Heart aching, she called to him, “Be good, Dabao, don’t cry.”

Ying Xi glanced disdainfully at the weeping pair. “Take them away!”

Meanwhile, Lu Hehuan and Bao Rong remained at the crime scene, turning the abandoned house upside down. The residents of Sophora Lane watched with fascination as they examined the site with magnifying glasses and tweezers.

Lu Hehuan’s gaze suddenly fell upon the wild grass beneath and beside Jinlu’s corpse, nearly all of it bent and twisted.

“The grass is trampled and twisted… There must have been a fierce struggle.”

He muttered thoughtfully, then paced to the doorway, noticing the messy footprints left inside by the officers and Madam Hao. Outside the door, there were several clear imprints of women’s cloth shoes, which stopped at the threshold. Taking out a tape measure, he recorded the size of the prints, then compared them to those left by Madam Hao and the officers inside.

“These must be Madam Hao’s footprints…” An idea seemed to strike him. He turned to Bao Rong, “Xiao Rong, can you determine the time of death?”

Bao Rong nodded. “Based on the coagulation of the blood and the degree of livor mortis, I’d estimate she died around nine last night.”

Lu Hehuan addressed the onlookers. “Does anyone know where Madam Hao lives?”

“I do—I'm her next-door neighbor,” one resident replied.

“Wonderful. Do you know if Madam Hao and her son were home around nine last night? Was there anything unusual at their place?” Lu Hehuan pressed.

“Her son has trouble walking and rarely goes out. Madam Hao came home just after dusk—maybe seven or so—and never left again. Nothing strange happened at their place,” the neighbor answered.

Lu Hehuan nodded, concern clouding his face. Turning to Bao Rong, he asked, “Xiao Rong, does Inspector Ying often extract confessions by force?”

“Not exactly, but he does like to use his fists during interrogations.”

“Take me to Madam Hao’s house, quickly.”

Alarmed by Bao Rong’s words, Lu Hehuan urgently asked the neighbor to lead the way, and the neighbor agreed.

“Everyone, please stay out. We must protect the integrity of the crime scene,” Lu Hehuan reminded the crowd before hurrying off.

As soon as Lu Hehuan left, Bao Rong told the remaining officers, “Bring the body back to the station.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bao Rong hurried after Lu Hehuan.

Madam Hao’s house was in disarray from Ying Xi’s visit.

“Inspector Ying, my son is innocent! Please, let him go!” Madam Hao fell to her knees, clutching Ying Xi’s leg in desperation.

“If I let him go, Jinlu’s soul will never rest!” Ying Xi retorted, ordering the officers, “Take them away!”

“Mother…” Dabao wailed in terror.

“We're innocent, truly innocent…” Madam Hao sobbed.

Mother and son wept until their faces were streaked with tears, and even Ying Xi looked as though he were attending a funeral.

“Do everyone a favor and stop crying innocence. I’ve worked hard to get here. Just confess and save us all some trouble, will you?” Ying Xi said, putting on a stern face as he headed for the door. Liu Rushuang quickly stepped aside to let him pass.

“Inspector Ying is wise,” she flattered.

“I don’t think they look like murderers,” Bai Yulou, standing behind Liu Rushuang, watched the mother and son with sympathy and muttered to her.

Liu Rushuang knew this herself but didn’t want to undermine Ying Xi’s authority. She bit her lip and cautioned Bai Yulou quietly.

“Don’t speak out of turn when Inspector Ying is investigating. He doesn’t like losing face.”

“But what if innocent people are wronged?” Bai Yulou asked, worried.

Seeing his point, Liu Rushuang reluctantly caught up with Ying Xi.

“Inspector Ying, perhaps we should investigate a little longer? If, by chance, we miss some clue about the true killer, wouldn’t we be wronging good people?”

Her words were tactful, but Ying Xi had no patience. He glared at her, his eyes nearly popping.

“Are you questioning me?”

Liu Rushuang quickly waved her hands. “No, Inspector, you’re always right!”

“Good, then stop talking nonsense.”

“But Inspector…”

“One more word and I’ll never speak to you again!” Ying Xi cut her off, and Liu Rushuang hurriedly clapped her hand over her mouth. Ignoring her, Ying Xi strode away.

Liu Rushuang looked after him with a pained expression, wanting to say more but holding back.

“No principles at all…” Bai Yulou shook his head, disappointed in her.

Lu Hehuan and Bao Rong arrived, led by Madam Hao’s neighbor, just as Ying Xi and his party were leaving. Seeing the suspects about to be taken away, Lu Hehuan rushed to intervene.

“Inspector Ying, wait!” he called out, jogging over.

“What’s all this shouting about?” Ying Xi spun around, face hardening as he recognized Lu Hehuan.

Coming up to him, Lu Hehuan said, “Inspector, I just got the autopsy results from Xiao Rong and carefully re-examined the scene. There were no traces of the killer’s footprints or fingerprints. The reporting party, Madam Hao, left footprints only at the door, meaning she never entered—she must have found the victim from outside and reported it. Since the murderer wiped away all traces, they could easily have distanced themselves from the crime. There was no need to return as the reporting party…”

“Maybe she thought she was clever—by reporting the crime herself, she’d avoid suspicion, but she outsmarted herself,” Ying Xi argued, scratching his head.

“But Jinlu wasn’t a local, and Madam Hao had no prior dealings with her. If Madam Hao was the murderer, all she had to do was stay away from the scene; it would be hard to connect her to the crime. Your theory doesn’t hold water.”

Ying Xi was about to explode, but seeing everyone watching him, he held back.

“You’re right—the murderer isn’t Madam Hao, it’s her son Dabao!”

“It wasn’t me, I didn’t kill anyone…” Dabao cried in terror.

Lu Hehuan spoke firmly. “The victim died around nine last night. According to Madam Hao’s neighbor, both she and Dabao were at home at that time. They have solid alibis.”

“Who can prove it? Step forward!” Ying Xi barked. The neighbor, nervous, shuffled forward.

“Inspector, I’m Madam Hao’s neighbor. Around nine last night, Madam Hao and Dabao were home.”

“Which eye did you see that with?” Ying Xi tried to intimidate.

“I passed by and saw two silhouettes in their window.”

“Foolish! They could have propped up two pillows for you to see.”

“But they didn’t look like pillows…”

“Then it was something else! I warn you, don’t spread rumors. Lying in testimony will land you in jail. Did you see them or not?”

The neighbor nodded, then shook his head under Ying Xi’s glare.

“Keep talking nonsense and I’ll haul you in!” Ying Xi snarled, then turned his gaze on Dabao. “You raped and murdered Jinlu, and your mother helped you. Don’t bother denying it!”

“Innocent! We’re innocent!” Dabao wailed.

“Inspector, there’s no evidence of semen on the victim. The theory of rape and murder doesn’t stand,” Lu Hehuan interjected.

“Then it was attempted rape, followed by murder!” Ying Xi snapped.

“But the struggle marks show the killer was a strong, able-bodied man. Dabao is lame—he couldn’t have done it.” Lu Hehuan glanced at Ying Xi’s own injured leg.

Ying Xi, misreading the look as mockery, bristled. “What are you staring at? Don’t insult me with veiled jabs—I’m not a cripple!”

He stamped his foot in anger, but the pain made him grimace and fall silent.

“No use arguing—like playing music to a cow,” Lu Hehuan muttered under his breath.

“Who are you talking about? Don’t think a few years abroad make you better than everyone. Solving cases takes experience! You’re just a rookie, not even an officer yet, and you’re trying to teach me how to investigate!” Ying Xi ranted.

“Experience alone isn’t enough. You need evidence.”

“Don’t preach to me. I always investigate based on evidence.”

Lu Hehuan was exasperated by Ying Xi’s blatant disregard for the truth. “Investigate? All I see is you arresting people, not solving the case.”

“Are you challenging me? Ask the officers—do they support my judgment?” Ying Xi looked around. “Raise your hand if you think Madam Hao and Dabao are the murderers!”

No one raised a hand, much to Ying Xi’s embarrassment. Even Liu Rushuang, usually obedient, kept her hand down.

He sidled over to her and muttered, “Liu Rushuang, do you not support me? Then I suppose there’s no need for us to meet again.”

“Can’t we just not raise our hands this time, and I’ll support you in other things? Then we can still see each other…” she bargained quietly.

“No! Either raise your hand or we’re done!” Ying Xi insisted.

Reluctantly, Liu Rushuang raised her hand, dragging Bai Yulou’s hand up with hers.

“I support Inspector Ying. That empty house is so remote—if Madam Hao wasn’t involved, why would she go there? She must have helped her son kill. Some mothers dote on their children and will do anything, no matter how cruel.” Her words sounded forced, as if a gun were pointed at her head.

“Innocent!” Madam Hao wailed, tears streaming.

“Liu Rushuang is absolutely right,” Ying Xi said, seizing the opportunity.

Bao Rong couldn’t stand it any longer. “Inspector, actually—”

“Xiao Rong, don’t stir up trouble. Do your job and leave interrogations to me,” Ying Xi cut him off and signaled the officers. “Take Madam Hao and Dabao back—use any means necessary!”

“You’re abusing your authority!” Lu Hehuan protested.

“One more word and I’ll abuse you as well,” Ying Xi snapped, shoving Lu Hehuan aside, brazen in his misconduct.

Lu Hehuan stood his ground. “If you abuse Madam Hao and Dabao, I’ll file a complaint all the way until you’re dismissed.”

“You—!” Ying Xi was speechless with rage.

“And I mean it,” Lu Hehuan said, staring him down.

Ying Xi, realizing he’d met his match, had no choice but to yield, though his tone was sour. “I don’t need you telling me how to do my job. Take the suspects back to the station.”

Saying nothing further, Lu Hehuan let Ying Xi leave with his men.

Returning to his dormitory, Lu Hehuan found Ying Xi barging in behind him, throwing his hat aside, yanking out a chair with a screech, and sitting down with a glare.

“I was just about to close this case and collect the credit, but you had to meddle and ruin everything, like a fly in the ointment!” Ying Xi grumbled.

“You can’t be so careless. This concerns the fate and reputation of the suspects—it’s no trifling matter,” Lu Hehuan retorted.

“Then who do you think the killer is?” Ying Xi challenged, chin raised.

Lu Hehuan fell silent. Since the murder, he had found no real leads.

“Speechless, eh? Since you’re the high-flyer from Scotland Yard, you solve the case yourself. Just don’t come crying for help when you hit a wall,” Ying Xi jeered, popping peanuts into his mouth.

Ignoring him, Lu Hehuan went to the window, frowned, then turned and walked out.

“Where are you going? Not eating?” Ying Xi called after him, but the only reply was the sound of the door closing.

In the evening, the neon lights of Shanghai shimmered, strains of orchestral music drifting through the air, painting a scene of bustling prosperity.

Lu Hehuan glanced up at the sign for the Paramount Dance Hall, then stepped inside.

The dance girls, thinking a customer had arrived, swarmed around him.

“This gentleman’s a new face.”

“First time here, isn’t it?”

Lu Hehuan, overwhelmed, nodded awkwardly.

“Once you come a few times, you’ll feel right at home.”

They pressed closer, and he retreated hastily. Jinmei, a dance girl, shot him a dissatisfied look.

“My, why do you keep dodging us? As if we had the plague and you’re afraid we’ll infect you.”

Lu Hehuan glanced at her—she wore a vivid scarlet cheongsam, slit high up the thigh, her face caked with makeup, cherry lips pursed around a cigarette. He took another step back.

“Ladies…”

He’d barely spoken before they burst out laughing.

“I’ve been at the Paramount for years and never heard anyone call us ‘ladies’ before,” Jinmei said.

Flustered, Lu Hehuan quickly produced Jinlu’s photograph. “I’m here to ask about Jinlu.”

Jinmei took the photo, exhaling smoke. “Lulu didn’t come in today.”

“She was murdered last night.”

The girls gasped, and Jinmei’s hand trembled.

“Do you know when Jinlu left here yesterday?” Lu Hehuan asked once the chatter died down.

“Last night, a little after six, Lulu suddenly asked for leave and went home. She only told me just before leaving. I thought she was seeing a private client. I never imagined…” Jinmei’s eyes reddened.

“Did she have any enemies?”

Jinmei shook her head. “We wouldn’t dare offend anyone who comes here. If you insist, maybe Inspector Ying Xi from Old Zha Station.”

Lu Hehuan’s expression changed at the mention.

Jinmei’s tone grew indignant, hands on hips. “That man is a lecher and a miser. He often pretends to investigate just to take liberties. Twice he came for Lulu, and she lied that she wasn’t here. When he found out, he threw a tantrum, saying we were blind to his ‘inner qualities.’ We’re here for money—what do we care about inner qualities?”

Lu Hehuan couldn’t help but smile, though he quickly composed himself. “Did Jinlu owe any debts?”

“Not that I know of. She was the star here, business was good, and she didn’t gamble or smoke. She shouldn’t have owed anyone.”

“Thank you.”

Lu Hehuan nodded and turned to leave, but Jinmei called after him.

“Handsome, since you’re here, won’t you stay a while?”

She flirted openly, but Lu Hehuan flushed and hurried away.

Night had fallen. Back at the police dormitory, Ying Xi lounged on his bed, leg crossed, idly picking his teeth and humming a tune in contentment.

Lu Hehuan returned, weighed down by worry.

“So, Scotland Yard’s great detective—how’s the case going? Found the killer yet?” Ying Xi sneered.

Lu Hehuan stared at him for a long moment, making Ying Xi uneasy.

“What are you looking at?”

“Seeing if those dance girls were right about your ‘inner qualities.’”

“You went to the Paramount?” Ying Xi caught on.

“So Inspector Ying is famous even at the Paramount,” Lu Hehuan replied.

“Of course. Did the girls mention me?” Ying Xi was smug.

“They did.”

He perked up, “What did they say?”

“That you’re stingy and always use investigations as an excuse to grope them.”

“Outrageous! Those loose women forget all the good times we had together!” Ying Xi was furious at the blow to his reputation, then suddenly rounded on Lu Hehuan.

“You went digging into me instead of the case? I warn you, don’t gossip to Chief Bao or I’ll tear your mouth apart.”

“Relax, I never took a course in slander overseas.”

Relieved, Ying Xi glared at him and then grew serious. “Find out anything at the Paramount?”

“Not much. Jinlu had no enemies and owed no debts. She left suddenly last night. The killer probably acted on impulse—possibly a stranger.”

Lu Hehuan shrugged in disappointment, prompting a smug grin from Ying Xi.

“See? It’s still Dabao. A stranger, a sudden urge, a random act—he fits the bill. Take my advice and close the case. You don’t understand how fierce the competition is here. If I let this case drag on, my job as Inspector won’t last. The Chief’s promotion’s already been derailed by your last unsolved case. If I add another, who knows what’ll happen to him—or me!”

Lu Hehuan answered solemnly, “I understand your urgency, but we can’t rush this. I believe the real killer is still out there. Inspector, I’ve only just returned from abroad and don’t know much about the recent changes here. Can you help me track who Jinlu met after leaving the Paramount last night?”

“No way. Aren’t you clever? Solve it yourself. Just don’t come begging for help.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’m not helping. I’m going to sleep. Lights out.”

“I haven’t washed up yet.”

“You’re a man—one day without washing won’t kill you.” Ying Xi switched off the light.

“I’m not used to it.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He shifted to a comfortable position and went still.

Lu Hehuan, with little choice, found his bed by moonlight and lay down, gazing out the window.

The moon hung high, a few stars twinkling in the tranquil night. Spring was in the air, and for a moment, he felt a trace of Britain’s peace. He turned over, but the thunderous snores from Ying Xi kept him awake. He wondered whom he could ask to trace Jinlu’s path that evening.

He turned over the clues from the day’s investigation in his mind, then suddenly remembered Liu Rushuang, famed for being the best gossip in Old Zha. That was it—how could he have forgotten Miss Liu? Relieved, he closed his eyes and drifted into a peaceful sleep.