Po Sir's Police Affairs: The Hunter

The night at Binjiang Park is darker than the old floating bridge.

There were no ruins, no overgrown weeds, only neatly trimmed holly and ginkgo trees casting orderly shadows under the streetlights. Those shadows were so precise they seemed unreal, like they were painted on. Jiang Bo parked the car at the park entrance and strode inside. Tangyuan followed behind, running ahead, its nose close to the ground, sniffing here and there. Its paws made a crisp clattering sound on the stone pavement. Police tape was already in place, the yellow ribbons fluttering in the night wind like some kind of uneasy pulse. Several police officers stood outside, their expressions serious, none speaking. They saw Jiang Bo and made way for him.

Liu Tong was inside. He saw Jiang Bo and waved. Jiang Bo's eyes were red, his lips were chapped, he hadn't slept all night, and there were red marks on his face from typing. "Jiang Bo, over here. On the rocks below the observation deck. Su Min has arrived. She said the time of death was between 10 and 11 pm. The pressure marks on her neck are deep; the killer used a lot of force. Exactly the same as Fang Min's case."

Jiang Bo followed him towards the riverbank. The walkway in Binjiang Park was wide, with streetlights spaced far apart, making some areas quite dark. The viewing platform stretched over the river, its railings made of stone, cool to the touch. He looked down and saw the rocks gleaming bluish in the moonlight, and a person lying on one of them.

The body was found on the rocks below the observation deck. The woman was in her thirties, wearing a pink tracksuit and white running shoes. The tracksuit was designer, and the shoes were new. Her hands were clasped over her chest, her legs were together, neatly arranged. Her eyes were closed, her hair was loose and draped over her shoulders, as if she were asleep. But there were two deep, purplish-black marks on her neck, like a twisted snake. The moonlight shone on her face, making it appear deathly pale. Her expression was calm, without fear or pain, as if she were having a good dream. Did the killer arrange her like this to let her rest in peace, or to show off?

Jiang Bo squatted down, looking at the face. Round face, short hair, gentle eyes and brows. He didn't recognize her. Her eyelashes were long, and her lips were slightly parted, as if she were saying something. He reached out and gently brushed the hair away from her face. Her hair was wet, damp with river water. Her forehead was cool, like ice.

"Have you found out their identity?"

Liu Tong handed over an evidence bag. Inside the transparent bag was an ID card, the corners damp, the writing slightly blurred, but still legible. "The ID card was found in her pocket. Lin Xiaoxue, 34 years old, bank employee. Her husband said she goes for a run every night, rain or shine. She didn't come home this morning, and he assumed she went to a friend's house. When she still hadn't returned by noon, he called the police. When he arrived, she was still trembling and could barely speak. He said she never leaves without saying goodbye; something must have happened."

Jiang Bo stood up, gazing at the river. The river at Binjiang Park was wide, its surface reflecting the brightly lit skyscrapers across the water, shattering into fragments of light. Those lights danced in the waves, like countless eyes watching him, staring at him. He remembered those names, those apologies, those people who stood at the entrance watching. They were gone, but the killer remained. He was still killing. Just like in the Fang Min case, just like in the Li Hongmei case, just like in the Xu Yanran case. The method was the same, the posture the same. Was the killer imitating, or continuing?

"Just like the Fang Min case." Liu Tong's voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing something.

Jiang Bo nodded. "Same. Same method, same posture. The killer is imitating. But this isn't imitation. This is the same person. The killer in Fang Min's case was Chen Zhiming, and he has confessed. The killer in Li Hongmei's case was Lao Liu, and he also confessed. The killer in Xu Yanran's case was also Lao Liu, and he also confessed. But this case wasn't committed by them. Chen Zhiming is in detention, and Lao Liu is dead. This is someone else. Someone who knows all the details. Someone who knows how to kill, how to arrange the body, and how to avoid surveillance. Who is he? Where did he find out? Did he see the case file, or did he hear something? Or is he right here among us?"

Zhang Yuhang walked over and stood beside him. He was wearing an old jacket, his hair was a little messy, and his eyes were red, as if he hadn't slept all night. There was a red mark on his face, from sleeping on the table, running from his forehead to his cheek. His voice was a little hoarse, like he had a sore throat. "Bo Sir, Lin Xiaoxue is also a member of the night running group. She's been a member for three years, a veteran. She often posts photos of her night runs on her WeChat Moments. Binjiang Park, Jinghu Park, the old floating bridge area. She runs three or four times a week, very regularly. The last time she posted on WeChat Moments was yesterday afternoon, saying she was going to run in Binjiang Park tonight, and she even included a selfie, smiling quite happily. She was wearing that pink tracksuit, the one she's wearing now."

Jiang Bo turned around. "A night running group? Dong Zhiqiang's night running group?"

Zhang Yuhang nodded. He took out his phone and pulled up a photo—a group picture of the night running club. A dozen or so people were standing by the river, wearing sportswear and smiling happily. "Yes. After Dong Zhiqiang died, the night running club disbanded. But some people are still running. Lin Xiaoxue is one of them. She has a good relationship with the new club leader and they often run together. The new club leader is also an old friend of Dong Zhiqiang; they founded the night running club together."

"Who is the new commander?"

Zhang Yuhang opened his notebook, where a few lines of writing were scribbled. "His name is Wang Jianjun. Forty-three years old, a businessman who owns a building materials company. He's been a member of the night running group for five years and is an old friend of Dong Zhiqiang. After Dong Zhiqiang died, he took over the night running group. He organizes two night runs a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays, without fail. Lin Xiaoxue always participates; they have a very good relationship and often chat while running together."

Jiang Bo clenched his fists. "Where is Wang Jianjun? Where is he now? What was he doing last night? Can anyone testify?"

Zhang Yuhang shook his head. His brows furrowed, and his lips pursed. "I don't know. He came to participate in the night run last night, and Lin Xiaoxue was there too. After the run, he said he had something to do at home and left first. After that, we couldn't get through to him on the phone. There was no one at home either. Our people went to his house to check, but the door was locked and the lights were off. The neighbors said they saw him come back last night, but they don't know when he went out again."

Jiang Bo stood by the river, gazing at the water. Those names, those apologies, were all in his heart. Those who stood watching at the door were also in his heart. They were gone, but he remained. The murderer was still there, still killing. He had to find him. He couldn't let him continue killing.

"Investigate Wang Jianjun. All his social connections, all his activity patterns, all his communication records. Keep investigating until you find him. Find out everything: what kind of car he drives, where he lives, where he's been, who he's met."

Liu Tong nodded and started making a phone call.

Jiang Bo turned and walked back. Tang Yuan followed behind, running a few steps before stopping and looking back at him. He walked to the car and glanced back. The river shimmered silver in the moonlight, flowing slowly. Those names, those apologies, were all in his heart. Now there was another name. Lin Xiaoxue. Thirty-four years old, a bank employee, who liked to run at night. She had a husband who waited for her to come home. When she left, she said she would be back in an hour's run. She didn't come back. Her husband waited until dawn, until noon, until he couldn't wait any longer. When he called the police, his hands were trembling, and he couldn't speak clearly. He didn't know that she was lying on the rocks by the river, her hands folded over her chest, as if asleep. She would never come back.

The phone rang. It was Lao He calling. His voice was a little hoarse, like he had just woken up, or like he hadn't slept at all.

"Xiao Jiang, heard about the new case? I couldn't sleep, so I checked my phone and saw the news. Another woman who was jogging at night in Binjiang Park has died."

"Yes. The woman jogging at night, just like the Fang Min case. The method is exactly the same, even the way the body was placed is the same. The killer is imitating. Or rather, he is continuing. He chose Binjiang Park, where there are many people and many surveillance cameras, but he still did it. He is not afraid of being seen, not afraid of being filmed. He is confident that he will not be caught. He is smarter and calmer than Lao Liu. He deliberately chose a place with surveillance cameras, deliberately chose a time when there are many people. He is provoking."

Old He was silent for a moment. There was the sound of a lighter on the other end of the phone. He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and slowly exhaled. "Be careful. This killer is different from before. He's smarter, calmer. He knows we're investigating, but he's not afraid. He's provoking us. The place he chose, the time he chose, the people he killed—it's all deliberate. He's telling us he's here. He's more terrifying than Old Liu. Old Liu was insane; he's lucid. He knows what he's doing. He's not afraid of being caught, not afraid of death. He's afraid of nothing."

Jiang Bo gripped the steering wheel. "I know. I will find him. No matter who he is, no matter where he's hiding, no matter how many people he's killed, I will find him."

He hung up the phone and stepped on the gas. The car drove back to the city. Those names were still in his heart, those apologies were still in his notebook. Now there was another name. Lin Xiaoxue. He had to find the murderer. No matter who he was, no matter where he was hiding, no matter how many people he had killed. He had to find him.

At daybreak, Liu Tong called. His voice was hurried, as if he were running or chasing something.

"Officer, Wang Jianjun has been found. He's at home. His wife said he came home last night and stayed there the whole time. His phone was on, we located him at home. We checked the security footage, his car wasn't moved. He has an alibi. His wife testified for him, and the neighborhood's security cameras also captured him returning home at 9:10 PM. He didn't come out again after that. Lin Xiaoxue was murdered after 10 PM. He couldn't have committed the crime. Unless he could fly."

Jiang Bo's hands clenched. "Not him? Does he have accomplices? Is it possible he had someone else kill him for him?"

Liu Tong shook his head. "It doesn't seem like it. His social relationships are very simple, just business partners and people from his night running group. I haven't found anything unusual. I've also checked his communication records; he didn't contact anyone last night. He's very clean. Too clean. So clean it doesn't seem real."

Jiang Bo was silent for a moment. "Then who could it be? Who killed Lin Xiaoxue? Who is imitating those cases? Who is provoking us? He knows we know, he deliberately left the same traces, the same posture. He is telling us that he has arrived. He is challenging us."

Liu Tong did not speak.

Jiang Bo walked to the window and looked at the sky outside. Dawn had broken, and sunlight shone on the river, shattering into dazzling golden fragments. Those names, those apologies, were all in his heart. Now, there was another name: Lin Xiaoxue. He remembered his husband's words: "Those names, those apologies, someone has to remember them. If no one remembers, they are truly gone." He remembered. He remembered everyone. He would also remember Lin Xiaoxue. He would apologize on her behalf. But he wanted even more to find the murderer. To catch him, to make him apologize. To make him apologize in front of the families. To make him apologize in front of the dead.