Skinner's Box (Fang Mu (Eastern Crimes)) (9 page)

This time Shen Xiang lost her cool; she took the towel and threw it at her. Sang Nannan made an ugly face, tossed the towel onto the floor, and said in a very loud voice, "You think you're something special, but all you are is damaged goods!"

Not long after that, rumors of Shen Xiang's rape got spread around, and she and I became the most-talked about couple on campus. Wherever we went, we were surrounded by people who gave us all kinds of judgmental looks. Shen Xiang lost her mind; at random intervals she would suddenly start sniffing herself obsessively and ask me over and over if her body stank or not. I told her repeatedly, 'No, no; not at all.' But she wouldn't believe me, so she started taking overly frequent showers again. The most terrifying time was when she stayed in the shower a full six hours straight. When she finally came out, there were clear markings on her neck and arms where she had scrubbed herself until the skin was rubbed raw. Later I found out it was Sang Nannan who had spread all the rumors. When we went to confront her, she said nonchalantly that she hadn't said anything that wasn't factually true. Shen Xiang asked her how she knew about it; Sang Nannan told her that she used to attend the same high school, and that Teacher Qin had been homeroom teacher, too. After Sang Nannan succeeded in testing into the university, she went back to visit and thank her high school teachers; it was then that Teacher Qin had told Sang Nannan of Shen Xiang, the girl who had graduated from the same school in a previous year and who had gone to the same university.

And Teacher Qin had told Sang Nannan all about the rape incident.

We thought the gossip would die out and be forgotten over time, but instead it intensified, and even more lurid and filthy versions of the story began to spawn. While all this was happening we seriously thought we were going to go insane. Over and over Shen Xiang would cry and beg me to leave her, but how could I do that? One time we hid out for three days and three nights in a little off-campus motel. The whole time we were there we cried, kissed, and made love; it felt there was just no way out of our predicament. Shen Xiang dug her long fingernails into my back and sobbed, 'Kill her, kill her; I hate her to death.' At the time it seemed like the only thing we could do.

I arranged to hook up with Sang Nannan, pretending I had broken up with Shen Xiang and wanted to be her boyfriend instead. I very easily lured her into the factory near the steel market. Before doing the deed, we thought we still had room to maneuver, so we told her we'd let her go as long as she would come clean publicly at the university. But all that did was make this woman become verbally abusive; she called Shen Xiang a bitch and said she was going to call the cops on us. By then we were beyond the point of no return; there really was nothing else to do. We stabbed her many times. I still remember the look of surprise in her eyes when she took the first knife. After we killed Sang Nannan, we both felt suddenly calm. We began to talk about whether or not we should run away or commit suicide together. It was nearly dawn when we finally fell asleep in each other's arms, right next to Sang Nannan's corpse. The truth is, I wasn't at all afraid at the time. Later on I woke up to find Shen Xiang still lying next to me, but she had cut her wrists. There was so much blood. She seemed to have bled completely out. In her hand I discovered a piece of paper; on it she had written that she was the one who had killed Sang Nannan, and that none of this had anything to do with me. It was silly of her; how could I go on living without her? But before I died, I had one thing left to do, and that was to kill Teacher Qin. I wanted to make everyone who hurt us
pay
. Everyone!

After hearing Luo Jiahai's story, Fang Mu lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and exhaled heavily.

He finally understood the fundamental connections between smell, sex, and murder. But in his heart, Fang Mu did not feel the slightest bit relieved. A jumble of disparate emotions battled through his mind as he stared at the person across the table in front of him.

If Fang Mu felt any sympathy for Luo Jiahai, this man who had murdered two women, then it would without a doubt represent a departure from his professional nature; if, however, Fang Mu were to say that his investigation into the motive for these crimes had been done for no other reason than to meet the expectations of his job, then he would be lying to himself.

Luo Jiahai had to pay for his behavior.

But Fang Mu did not wish for him to die.

In the end he chose a track that neither went against his professional ethics nor his conscience.

"Luo Jiahai, I'm afraid I'm going to have to break our agreement," Fang Mu said, his tone measured.

"Hmm? What?"

"And not just me; I hope you'll break it, too." Fang Mu tapped his cigarette on the edge of the ash tray. "I'd like you to repeat everything you just told me to the judge."

"Why?"

Fang Mu stood and leaned forward with his hands on the edge of the table. "Do you want to die?"

Luo Jiahai returned his gaze for a full half minute or so before he finally looked away.

"No; no, I don't." His voice betrayed a hint of frailty and agitation.

"Then tell your whole story to the court, from head to tail, and there's a chance you'll be spared the death penalty." Fang Mu thought a moment. "And if you need my help, just let me know."

"No need." Luo Jiahai lifted his head. "Jiang Dexian has been appointed by the court to be my attorney."

"Him?" Fang Mu was taken aback; if that fellow had been able to convince the court to appoint him as defense attorney, then he was indeed someone to contend with. But instead of commenting on that fact, he just rounded the table and patted Luo Jiahai on the shoulder. "He's an excellent lawyer." He paused, and then said, "Good luck to you."

CHAPTER
6
Direction

W
here am I?

The man lifted his head weakly. In front of him it was pitch black. It was black in the true sense of the word; he could not discern the outline of a single object anywhere he looked.

The man tried to move, but as he had suspected, he was trussed firmly to a chair. At least that was how it felt to him.

The dark seemed boundless; it created the illusion that it stretched on forever. For some reason the man had the sense that he was inside a large, empty room. He tried calling out. "Help…!"

He suddenly felt something was not right. Because there was not even an echo in this place.

The more he panicked, the louder his voice got. "Help! Someone…help!"

The darkness was like a gigantic gaping maw. No sooner had the words escaped his lips than they were mercilessly swallowed.

The man struggled as hard as he could, but fear had sapped all his strength. Soon he was again slumped feebly against the back of the chair.

Suddenly a deep, oppressive voice sounded. "Move your left hand."

The man whirled his head around; the voice had sounded both like it was right in his ear and like it was circling around him.

"Who...who are you?"

"Move your left hand."

"Who...who the hell are—"

Before he could finish the question, a burst of pain surged through his body, causing him to arch his back involuntarily. It felt as if countless tiny needles were swimming through his body all at once.

The man's screams must have pleased the owner of the deep voice, because the icy tone now contained a trace of happiness. "Move your left hand."

The man did not dare disobey. His left hand was bound to the chair arm, but he wiggled it back and forth a few times. After a moment he felt four buttons within reach of his hand, arranged in a cross pattern.

"Can you feel the buttons?"

"Yes... I feel them."

"Good. Now answer my questions. For each question I'll give you three seconds to think of the answer. If you answer correctly, I'll let you go."

"Wait..."

"Which direction is east?"

"Who the hell do you think you—"

"Three... two..."

Terrified of being electrocuted again, the man reflexively pressed the button on the right.

"Incorrect."

Again the sudden and excruciating pain shot through the man's body. It hurt so much he tried to curl into a ball, but his limbs were fastened firmly to the chair and all his efforts brought him was more pain in his wrists and ankles.

The callous voice sounded again. "Which direction is north? Three… two…"

In a panic, the man pressed the up button.

"Incorrect." The voice now seemed to contain a trace of barely concealed delight, like a child that had discovered a very fun game.

The man's body had not yet recovered from the last wave of spasms when another series of violent shocks rocked through him.

This continued several more times.

The questions were always very simple; they were all about which direction was north, south, east, or west. But no matter which button the man chose, it was always the incorrect one. The man's consciousness was beginning to fade and a trail of saliva stretched from the corner of his mouth all the way down to his chest. Every time he heard the harrowing voice he would frantically press one of the buttons, and then, as his body convulsed violently, he would cry out in misery.

"Which direction is south? Three… two…"

"Please...let me go...." The man finally sobbed. "I'll give you whatever you want..."

It had been more than three seconds, but this time there was no electric shock.

After a long moment the voice pierced the silence, and again it was deep and impassive. "There's nothing you can give me. I just wanted you to know…how important direction is."

The man's urgent breathing came to an abrupt stop. He raised his head. All around him the endless darkness remained, but he thought he could see a vague shape in front of him.

He cried out hoarsely. "I know who you are! You're—"

The sudden convulsions left these last words stifled in his throat. Strangely, this time the sensation that blasted through his body was not pain, but rather an intense pleasure. As he twitched he began to see a continuous burst of sparks in front of him. If only he could hold on a little while longer, he would discover that he was in a completely closed-off room whose walls were lined with soundproof panels. Sadly, he could not. The sparks were the last things he saw, and as he looked, he seemed to recall something. But very quickly, the remnants of consciousness were engulfed by the never-ending darkness.

A long time later the loudspeakers on the four walls began to emit a strange sound. It sounded a bit like weeping, a bit like a long, deep sigh.

CHAPTER
7
Trial

F
ang Mu's eyes were fixated on the cup in front of him. The dark green tea leaves swirled slowly in the water, unfurling. They appeared carefree, easy, but in fact each one was alone with nothing to lean against.

Just like a person's fate.

An hour before, Jiang Dexian had called to ask Fang Mu to meet with him. After considering this for a moment, Fang Mu had agreed.

They had chosen the tea house as their meeting place. It was a good place to talk: quiet, without any disturbances.

Fang Mu glanced at his watch. It was still five minutes until the time they had arranged to meet. When he looked up again, he saw Jiang Dexian walking briskly down the aisle in his direction.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long." Jiang Dexian strode up to the table and stuck his hand out.

Fang Mu stood and shook hands with him.

Jiang Dexian sat down on the chair, and without even looking at the tea menu the waitress was handing him, he said, "Longjing." He was out of breath from walking and on his forehead was a sheen of sweat.

"My name is Jiang Dexian, and I am an attorney with Hengda Law Firm. I have my practicing certificate here with me..." Jiang Dexian reached into his briefcase and began groping around.

"No need; we've met before."

"Okay then; in that case, let's get straight to the point." Jiang Dexian adjusted his glasses, which kept sliding down the sweaty bridge of his nose. "I'm Luo Jiahai's defense lawyer. I've asked you to meet with me because there are a few things I'd like you to verify. Do you mind if I record this interview?"

Fang Mu thought a moment and shook his head. "No, not at all."

"Wonderful." Jiang Dexian brought out a voice recorder, turned it on, and placed it carefully on the table.

The entire conversation revolved around the incidence of first-degree murder that occurred on September
10th. From the questions Jiang Dexian was asking, it became apparent that he was trying to prove that Luo Jiahai had turned himself in voluntarily, and that he had therefore shown remorse for what he had done. A few of the questions were asked in great detail; for example, "Do you feel that Luo Jiahai did not have the intention of harming anyone at the time?" And, "Is it true that Luo Jiahai took the initiative to lay his weapon down?" And so on. While answering these questions, Fang Mu observed Jiang Dexian the entire time. He looked very thin and pallid compared to the last time he saw him; there was a weariness in his face that he could not conceal.

As the interview was drawing to an end, Jiang Dexian suddenly asked a probing question. "Officer Fang, if it wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience for you, I'd like to put you on the witness stand in court. Would you be willing to testify, from your professional point of view, that Luo Jiahai is exceedingly unlikely to become a repeat offender?"

Fang Mu considered for a while, and then nodded.

"Wonderful." Jiang Dexian's face suddenly lit up. "I really appreciate your help." He stood, bowed, and grasped Fang Mu's hand in a firm handshake that went on longer that it should have.

Fang Mu felt the strength in the man's hand and could not help but say, "Actually, as a lawyer, I'm sure you well-understand that these pieces of evidence you're gathering…" he paused to choose his words. "…are very limited in their usefulness."

"I know." The smile on Jiang Dexian's lost some of its shine. "But I must collect any evidence I can that might help mitigate the criminal charges against my client."

Fang Mu stared at him for a few seconds. "May I ask why you have taken on Luo Jiahai's case with such earnestness?"

Jiang Dexian straightened slightly. "It is an attorney's duty to do his best."

The two men watched each other intently from either side of the table, both of them sharing the feeling that this was not a true statement.

The first session of Luo Jiahai's first-degree murder trial was set to commence on Thursday at 9:00 in the morning in the Changhong City Intermediate People's Court.

Fang Mu arrived right before the session was about to begin. The courtroom was packed. Several reporters from the local media had arrived early enough to claim favorable vantage points, and now had their cameras on tripods aiming like so many cannons at the defendant's bench. Imagining how Luo Jiahai must feel confronted with all those dazzling camera flashes, Fang Mu gave a wry smile and turned to head for the witnesses' lounge.

On his way past the entrance to the stairwell, Fang Mu caught sight of a gaunt middle-aged woman leaning against the railing. Her unblinking eyes were gazing up the stairs, and a few people were on either side of her supporting her by the arms as if afraid she might collapse. There was no need, however; there was something scary in the middle-aged woman's gaze that made her entire body look poised and ready.

After waiting in the lounge for five minutes, Fang Mu developed a sudden urge to smoke a cigarette, so he got up and went back out into the hallway. Before he was halfway through his smoke, he heard the sound of footsteps echoing down from the second floor intermingled with the grating screech of leg-irons being dragged along the tiles. He craned his neck, but all he saw was a figure flash past the stairwell and disappear up the steps from the dumbstruck people who had been supporting her.

Fang Mu flicked his cigarette butt and ran over to the stairwell. Before he reached the stairs, an explosion of wailing and flogging sounds reached his ears.

"Bastard... Give me my daughter back... I'm gonna beat you to death..."

Luo Jiahai had his arms over his head and was doing his best to dodge the middle-aged woman's pummeling fists. The four guards in charge of escorting him did not seem worried, however; they just kept walking along slowly with their hands on his shoulders. No one was trying to stop the middle-aged woman.

Fang Mu ran up the stairs and grabbed the woman by the wrists to restrain her. To his surprise, she immediately broke free and threw herself at Luo Jiahai with her mouth wide open to bite him. Right then the reporters in the courtroom must have heard the commotion, for they came swarming out. Upon seeing the cameras, the four guards reached out to block the middle-aged woman and deflect her to the side. Amidst the cries and sounds of photos snapping, Luo Jiahai stumbled into the courtroom with blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Through the thick courtroom doors Fang Mu could still hear the loud clamor; only after a succession of crisp raps from the gavel was order gradually restored.

The session began with the court's inquiry phase.

Several coworkers from the bureau had been required to appear at court as witnesses also, and one after another they were made to testify about their arresting and evidence-gathering procedures. Those who knew Fang Mu came over to smoke and chat with him when they had a chance.

Some of them wondered out loud what sort of testimony the prosecution had asked Fang Mu to deliver. After a moment's thought, he told them he was there to testify for the defense. Upon hearing this, everyone looked at each other in alarm, and the conversation in the witnesses' lounge went cold. A few of his coworkers even made a point of sitting apart from him, as if meaning to draw a clear line in the sand.

Fang Mu understood his coworkers' reactions, but he still felt embarrassed. Fortunately his awkward predicament soon ended when the courtroom summoned him to give his testimony.

When Fang Mu stated his name and occupation as a witness for the defense, it caused a great deal of commotion in the gallery. He did not need to look to know that Sang Nannan's mother was glaring at him with eyes full of hatred.

The cross-examination began. As attorney for the defense, Jiang Dexian was allowed the first questions.

"Officer Fang, were you involved in the defendant Luo Jiahai's arrest?"

"I was."

"What was your role?"

"Negotiator."

"How long did the negotiations last?"

"About fifteen minutes."

"So the entire negotiations process was quite short, is that right?"

Fang Mu hesitated. "You could say that."

"The defendant has mentioned that you asked him not to cover the girl's mouth. Did he do as you asked?"

"Yes."

"Why did you make such a request?"

"Because the girl was crying, so keeping her mouth covered would cause her to suffocate."

"Did you explain this to the defendant?"

"Yes."

"And the defendant complied immediately?"

"Yes."

"Did you feel at the time that he still had plans to harm the girl further?"

"I didn't think he would."

"Afterwards he voluntarily put down his weapon, released the hostage, and surrendered himself to the police; is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And would I be correct to assume that these negotiations were extremely successful as a result of the defendant's active cooperation?"

Fang Mu considered this for a moment. "You would."

"Very well. A little while ago I described the defendant Luo Jiahai's motive to the court. I believe you are already familiar with these matters, is that right?"

"That's right."

"Then tell me, if you please, as an ordinary citizen, do you feel sympathy for the defendant Luo Jiahai?"

The entire courtroom fell silent as everyone stared at Fang Mu.

He looked intently at Jiang Dexian for several seconds before glancing at Luo Jiahai. "Yes."

The gallery exploded in uproar.

"I'll ask one more question. In your professional opinion
,
is there any possibility that the defendant, Luo Jiahai, would become a repeat offender?"

"I believe that Luo Jiahai's behavior can be categorized as a crime of passion." Fang Mu paused. "From a psychological standpoint, the chance that he would become a repeat offender is very low."

Almost before the last words left his mouth, the courtroom had again erupted into chaos. Fang Mu forced himself to keep his cool and not turn his head. But when he saw the expression on Jiang Dexian's face change, he knew something was amiss, but he was unable to dodge in time—a shoe hit him squarely in the back of the head.

Sang Nannan's mother had her other shoe in her hands and was jumping up and down, screaming and crying. "Do you have no conscience? Defending a bad man…" she yelled. "What kind of policeman
are
you? "

The gallery crowd chimed in and several fingers were pointing straight at Fang Mu.

"How can you sit there and do this to the deceased?"

"What kind of a man are you? You scum!"

"Tell me, how much did they pay you?"

The judge was rapping his gavel as hard as he could. "Order! Order!"

The court bailiffs began restraining the emotional spectators and after a few minutes calm had finally been restored in the courtroom.

The judge prompted the prosecution to cross-examine, but with a gloating wave, the prosecuting attorney indicated that he did not intend to ask any questions.