Po Sir's Police Affairs: The Hunter

Guo Jianshe's household registration information was delivered to Jiang Bo's desk at 8:00 a.m. the next day.

Liu Tong had stayed up all night, his eyes were dark, but he was full of energy. He stood in front of Jiang Bo and rattled off a bunch of things. Jiang Bo only caught a few key points:

Guo Jianshe, male, born in 1958, originally from Wuwei, Anhui, came to Wuhan in 1985 and opened a restaurant by the river. His restaurant caught fire in 1998, and he disappeared that same year. He was apprehended in Guangdong in 2003, using a false name, on suspicion of fraud, and sentenced to eight years in prison. He died in prison in 2011.

"Nothing else?" Jiang Bo looked at the thin piece of paper.

"That's it," Liu Tong said. "This person's household registration information is extremely clean. There's no record of marriage, no record of children, and not even any immediate family members. If it weren't for the fact that he had a temporary residence permit in Jiangcheng back then, we wouldn't have been able to find this part of his information."

Jiang Bo put down the paper, picked up a cigarette, and lit it. The sky outside the window was overcast, looking like it was about to rain. Only he and Liu Tong were in the office; Zhou Xiao hadn't returned from retrieving fire files from the fire station.

"What did the fire department say about the restaurant fire?"

Liu Tong glanced at the notebook: "On the evening of April 15, 1998, a riverside restaurant caught fire. It burned quite badly, but no one died. The cause of the fire was determined to be aging electrical wiring, an accident."

"Where's the boss?"

"I haven't seen him since the fire. The neighbors said he wasn't in the shop that night and hasn't come back since," Liu Tong said. "According to the timeline, Ah Zhen went missing on March 8th, and the restaurant burned down on April 15th, which is more than a month apart."

Jiang Bo took a drag of his cigarette. A month after Ah Zhen disappeared, the restaurant caught fire, and the owner vanished. Was it a coincidence, or intentional?

Zhou Xiao pushed open the door and came in, carrying a manila envelope and sweating. He placed the envelope on the table: "I've made copies of the fire department's original files."

Jiang Bo opened the file folder, which contained yellowed photocopies: photos of the fire scene, forensic reports, and interrogation records. He looked at the photos first—the restaurant after the fire was reduced to a mere frame, with charred wood lying haphazardly and pots and pans shattered everywhere.

One photo shows the restaurant's signboard, burned to half its original size, but the words "Jiangpan Renjia · Guo Ji Restaurant" are still legible.

Jiang Bo stared at the sign for a few seconds, then suddenly asked, "Have you found out about that seal-carving guy next to Jixiang Temple, the one surnamed Guo?"

Zhou Xiao said, "I found it. Guo Deming, 73 years old, is an iron painting artist. He used to run a seal-carving shop next to Jixiang Temple, and now he lives in Jiuzi Ancient Town and has an iron painting studio. He is Guo Jianshe's older brother."

Jiang Bo stood up: "Let's go."

Jiuzi Ancient Town is an antique-style scenic area with bluestone-paved roads, white walls and black tiles, and small shops selling tourist souvenirs lined up one after another. Guo Deming's iron painting studio is located in the deepest part of the scenic area, in a secluded little courtyard, with a wooden plaque hanging at the entrance that reads "Guo's Iron Painting".

Jiang Bo pushed open the door and went inside. The courtyard was piled with iron materials and tools, and an old man was sitting in front of a workbench, hammering and chiseling. He was wearing reading glasses and holding a small hammer, chiseling patterns into a piece of sheet metal. Hearing footsteps, he looked up, glanced at Jiang Bo, and then lowered his head to continue hammering.

"Buy the painting or find someone to help?"

Jiang Bo pulled out his badge: "Police officer, looking for Master Guo Deming."

The old man paused for a moment. He put down the small hammer, took off his reading glasses, looked carefully at Jiang Bo and Zhou Xiao, and then pointed to the stool next to him: "Sit down."

Jiang Bo didn't sit down. He stood beside the worktable, looking at the piece of sheet metal in the old man's hand. It was an unfinished iron painting, depicting the Zhongjiang Pagoda and the Yangtze River. The pagoda was finely chiseled, and the river surface was engraved with ripples, shimmering in the sunlight.

"Master Guo, do you know Guo Jianshe?"

The old man was silent for a moment, then nodded: "My younger brother."

Where is he?

The old man raised his head and looked at Jiang Bo: "Didn't you find out? He's dead, he died in jail."

Jiang Bo looked into his eyes. They were cloudy old eyes, the whites of his eyes yellowish, but his gaze was steady, without panic or sadness.

"Are you still in contact with him?"

"I haven't been in touch with him." The old man lowered his head and continued to tap his iron painting. "He left Jiangcheng more than twenty years ago, and I haven't seen him since. Later I heard that he committed a crime, went to jail, and then died. I just pretended I never had this brother."

"He used to run a restaurant by the river. Did you ever go there?"

"I've been there," the old man said. "I went once on the opening day, but I haven't been back since. I'm not close to him; we've never been close since we were kids."

Jiang Bo circled the workbench. Various tools were laid out on it, finished iron paintings hung on the wall, and scrap materials were piled in the corner. He stopped in front of a yellowed old photograph. The photograph showed two people, young, standing by the river, arms around each other, smiling. One of them had features remarkably similar to the old man's, the other—

"Is this Guo Jianshe?" Jiang Bo pointed to the photo.

The old man glanced at it and said, "Yes."

Jiang Bo looked at the young man in the photo. He was in his early twenties, thin and tall, with narrow eyes and a smile on his lips, looking quite amiable. But his eyes were unsettling—too narrow, almost slits, as if he were always scheming.

"Did your younger brother get married or have children back in Jiangcheng?"

The old man shook his head: "No. He's unreliable; what woman would dare to be with him?"

Jiang Bo took out the bronze medal and placed it on the worktable. The medal gleamed with a dark yellow light in the sunlight, and the character "Guo" was clearly visible.

"Is this your seal?"

The old man picked it up and looked at it, then turned it over to look at the back, put it down, and shook his head: "I didn't carve it. It was machine-carved, not handmade."

Jiang Bo was stunned for a moment.

The old man pointed to the edge of the seal: "Look here, the lines are too neat, it can't be carved by a human. Back then there were small machines that could carve seals, and they would turn out like this. I carve seals by hand, and every cut is different."

"Whose chapter is this?"

The old man thought for a moment and said, "It was probably bought from a shop. People used these kinds of stamps back then; they were convenient."

Jiang Bo put away the bronze medal and asked, "Do you know a girl named A-Zhen? She worked at your brother's restaurant in 1998."

The old man paused again. He looked up at Jiang Bo, and after a long while, he said, "I know him. That kid came here before and had his personal seal made."

"She's here to have the seal made?"

"Yes, she wanted her own name engraved. I remember clearly, she was pregnant, her belly was quite big, and she still came to have a seal engraved herself," the old man said. "I asked her why she wanted a seal engraved, and she said she wanted to leave something for herself so that her children could recognize it when they grew up."

"And then?"

The old man shook his head: "I haven't seen her since. And then, I heard she disappeared."

Jiang Bo looked at him. The old man's expression was calm, but Jiang Bo noticed that his hand holding the hammer was trembling slightly.

"What is the relationship between your brother and Ah Zhen?"

The old man didn't answer. He lowered his head and began to knock on his iron painting again, knocking hard, the clanging sound echoing in the courtyard.

"Master Guo," Jiang Bo took a step closer, "Ah Zhen was seven months pregnant before she disappeared. Whose child was it?"

The old man stopped. He looked up at Jiang Bo, a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt? Or fear?

"I don't know," he said.

Jiang Bo looked at him. The old man lowered his head and continued knocking. Jiang Bo didn't ask any more questions and stood aside waiting. Zhou Xiao wanted to speak, but was stopped by a look from Jiang Bo.

After a long while, the old man put down the hammer, took off his reading glasses, and rubbed his eyes. His voice suddenly became very tired: "That child is my brother's. Ah Zhen came to me, wanting me to persuade him to marry her. I said no, my brother has never listened to me since he was little."

Jiang Bo waited for him to continue.

"Ah Zhen said she wasn't afraid he wouldn't marry her; she just wanted to have the child and raise it herself. She said she worked at a restaurant by the river and saved up some money, enough to support the child." The old man's voice trailed off as he spoke. "Then she disappeared, and I don't know where the child went either. I looked for him, but I couldn't find him."

"Have you looked for it?"

"I looked." The old man looked up. "Ah Zhen, that child, is kind-hearted and shouldn't have such a hard life. I went to the police station to ask, but they said there was no news. I looked along the riverbank, but there was nothing. So I stopped looking, because I couldn't find her anyway."

Jiang Bo was silent for a moment, then took out the bronze medal again: "This medal, is it Ah Zhen's?"

The old man took it, examined it carefully, and nodded: "It should be. She had the seal made to leave for her child. The character 'Guo' on this seal is my younger brother's surname. She thought the child would have the surname Guo, so she had this carved."

Jiang Bo put away the bronze medal and asked, "Did your brother contact you afterward?"

The old man shook his head: "No. I haven't seen him since he left."

"Did you know he has a child?"

The old man paused, then looked up at Jiang Bo. His expression changed, from weariness to shock: "What child?"

"The child Ah Zhen gave birth to," Jiang Bo said. "In 1999, the body of a little girl was found by the river, and we suspected that it was Ah Zhen's daughter."

The old man opened his mouth but couldn't speak. He stood up, leaning on the worktable, his legs a little weak. Zhou Xiao quickly went over to support him. He waved his hand, slowly walked to the chair by the wall, sat down, and stared blankly at the photos on the wall.

After a long silence, he finally spoke: "That child...is dead?"

Jiang Bo nodded.

The old man lowered his head, looking at his hands. His calloused hands were trembling. He suddenly looked up, his eyes reddening: "Did my brother kill him?"

"I don't know. We're still investigating."

The old man remained silent for a long time. Then he stood up, walked to an old-fashioned cabinet in the corner, opened the drawer, rummaged through it for a while, took out a cloth bag, and handed it to Jiang Bo.

"This is something my younger brother left behind. Before he left, he came to see me once and threw this package at me, telling me to keep it safe. I've never opened it, so I don't know what's inside."

Jiang Bo took the cloth bag and opened it. Inside were several yellowed photos, a crumpled land deed, and a letter with no writing on the envelope and the seal still on.

He looked at the photos first. The first one showed a young woman holding a baby, standing by the river, smiling gently. The woman's features resembled Ah Zhen's, but she was older, dressed simply, like a rural woman. The baby was very small, wrapped in swaddling clothes, with only a wrinkled little face showing.

The second picture shows the baby a little older, about two or three years old, with two pigtails, wearing a floral dress, playing by the river. There's a little figure embroidered on the chest of the dress—a little figure jogging at night.

Jiang Bo stopped. He stared at the little figure for a long time, then looked up at the old man: "Who is this girl?"

The old man glanced at it and shook his head: "I don't know. I've never seen it before."

Jiang Bo looked at the third photo. It was a man's back view, standing by the river, looking at the water. He couldn't see his face clearly, only that he was wearing a white polyester shirt with the cuffs rolled up.

He turned the photo over, and on the back were written two words in ballpoint pen: "1985, by the river".

In 1985, thirteen years before Ah-Zhen disappeared.

Jiang Bo put down the photo and picked up the letter. The envelope was sealed intact and hadn't been opened. He carefully used a knife to pry it open and pulled out the letter inside.

The letter contained only one line of text, written in pencil, crooked and messy:

"Brother, I'm so sorry. That child is mine, but I didn't dare to acknowledge her. Please take care of her for me and wait for me to come back."

There was no signature or date.

Jiang Bo handed the letter to the old man. The old man put on his reading glasses, looked at it for a long time, then put the letter down without saying a word.

Zhou Xiao, standing nearby, asked, "Who is this 'she' he's talking about? The child?"

The old man shook his head, his voice hoarse: "I don't know. I don't know anything."

But Jiang Bo noticed that the old man's hands were trembling even more violently. He stared at the photos, his eyes red-rimmed, but he didn't look at the letter anymore.

As they left Guo Deming's studio, the sky was already overcast, threatening rain. Zhou Xiao followed behind Jiang Bo and whispered, "Jiang Bo, how much do you think this old man knows?"

Jiang Bo didn't answer. He stood on the cobblestone street of the ancient town, looking at the Zhongjiang Pagoda in the distance. The spire was hidden in the dark clouds, hazy and gray.

Who is "she" mentioned in the letter? Is it Ah Zhen, or the woman in the photo? Is the girl with pigtails Ah Zhen's daughter? Or another child?

Jiang Bo had a vague outline forming in his mind, but too many details were missing. He needed time, and he needed more evidence.

Zhou Xiao's phone rang. He answered it, listened for a few minutes, and then hung up, saying, "We have results from Su Min's side. The DNA test results for the bloodstains on the raincoat are positive—it's from a fish."

Jiang Bo was taken aback: "Fish?"

"Yes, fish blood. Not human blood," Zhou Xiao said. "Su Min said it was probably splashed on when they were cleaning the fish."

Jiang Bo didn't speak. Ding Laosan's raincoat was only covered in fish blood, so why did he run?

Unless he knows something else.

"Have you found Ding Laosan?"

Zhou Xiao shook his head: "Not yet, and we can't get in touch with his son either."

Jiang Bo nodded and walked towards the parking lot. Halfway there, he suddenly stopped.

"Zhou Xiao," he said, "check Guo Jianshe's hometown in Wuwei, the exact address. Also, does he have any relatives in Jiangcheng?"

Zhou Xiao paused for a moment, then asked, "What do you suspect?"

Jiang Bo looked at the distant river and said something seemingly out of the blue:

"That bricklayer, Ah Zhen's son, is thirty years old this year. Guo Jianshe was born in 1958, so he would have been thirty in 1988. Where was he from 1988 to 1998? What was he doing?"

Zhou Xiao blinked, not understanding.

Jiang Bo didn't explain. He opened the car door and got into the driver's seat. As he started the car, he glanced at the rearview mirror—the door to Guo Deming's studio was still open, and the old man was standing at the door, looking in their direction.

There was something in that gaze, it was hard to say, but it made people uncomfortable.