AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER 12
THE LAST TIME I’d been locked up, I’d shared a cell with a downed US airman called Joshua Floyd in an outpost on the Afghan–Pakistan border. This time I was alone in a six-by-eight cell in a police station in the Pinggu District of Beijing. Zhang Daiyu and I had been manhandled into custody and booked for offences I didn’t understand. We were separated early on and the officers who processed me didn’t speak English, so despite my protests that I didn’t know why I was being held, I was frogmarched to a cell in the custody block. This had no windows and my watch and phone had been taken along with my passport and wallet, so I’d passed the hours on a steel bunk, listening to the sound of a leaking toilet, and eventually lost track of time. I only knew night had turned into morning when I heard activity in the corridor outside.
I’d spent most of the restless night thinking about David Zhou.He’d proved to be a handful, and his attempt to flee spoke to his guilt, or at least to his playing some part in the murders and Shang Li’s abduction. I was annoyed I hadn’t been quicker. All I needed was some time alone with the guy, but that now looked very unlikely. Zhang Daiyu had been right to pick out the wise woman’s apartment as an anomaly from the surveillance file. Normal people didn’t have secret rooms hidden in their homes, and it was clear from Meihui’s reaction and her circumstances that she was pretending to be something she was not. But I wasn’t clear what she really was, or why Zhou was hiding there. Intelligence, perhaps? Or maybe organized crime?
I heard footsteps and the buzz of an electric lock being activated. I got to my feet as the door was pushed open by a lone uniformed officer I hadn’t seen before. He looked mean, like he’d been forced to spend his life doing tax returns.
He yelled something unintelligible to me and signaled me to follow him.
“I’d like to speak to the American Consul,” I replied. “Or my firm’s Beijing attorney, Duan Yuzhe.”
My words prompted an angry repetition of the command, so I sighed and got to my feet.
The officer’s uniform was new, but the black trousers and blue shirt weren’t a great fit, so he looked like a little kid playing dress-up in his father’s clothes.
The police station couldn’t have been more than a few years old, but already seemed worn and tired. I followed the officer through the cell block, retracing the journey I’d made the previous night. Another officer stood guard by a steel gate and noddedbefore running a key card over a reader. The lock buzzed and the guard pulled the gate open, allowing us to pass into the main booking hall.
I saw Zhang Daiyu immediately. She was talking to a man in Beijing Police uniform. He was in the same light blue shirt and black trousers, but his fit perfectly. He was clean-shaven and had a thoughtful-looking face.
Zhang Daiyu smiled as I approached them. “Mr. Morgan, good morning.”
“I thought I told you to call me Jack,” I replied. “Did you spring me?”
She nodded at her companion. “This is Chen Ya-ting. He’s leading the investigation in the murders. He … clarified things with the officers here, so the misunderstanding that led to our arrest could be corrected.”
“Mr. Morgan,” he said, offering me his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m sorry for the loss of your team.”
“Thanks,” I said. “And thank you for getting us out.”
“Some of my colleagues lack nuance,” he said. “They like cracking heads and stamping on people, but that isn’t the way of modern police work, is it? You should never have been in custody. They should have thanked you for locating and apprehending David Zhou.”
I immediately liked the guy. “These things happen. I want to ask you about Shang Li. What’s your working theory?”
Chen Ya-ting looked at Zhang Daiyu and shook his head slowly. “We think maybe they put his body in the reservoir. We found some footprints by the water’s edge.”
“Why would they do that?” I asked. “And leave the others in the van?”
He shrugged. “To conceal evidence maybe. Who knows what was going through the mind of whoever did this?”
I frowned, pondering the fate of my business partner and friend. “And David Zhou? Where’s he?”
“He’s been taken to Qincheng Prison for questioning.”
“It’s a high-security facility,” Zhang Daiyu explained. “Reserved for enemies of the Chinese people.”
“Political prisoners?” I remarked.
“We don’t have such things in China,” she responded playfully.
“Why would they take him there?” I asked.
She shrugged and Chen Ya-ting shook his head in reproof.
“In China one is not encouraged to ask about such things,” Zhang Daiyu remarked. “Qincheng is the preserve of people who have powerful enemies, and those enemies become hostile to anyone who asks troubling questions.”
“I need to talk to him,” I said.
Chen scoffed: “Even I can’t see him. Any requests for information must be submitted to the Qincheng authorities. It is impossible for anyone from the outside to see the prisoner.”
