The car pulled smoothly away and continued toward the Shangyue Hotel.
Zhou Jin sat in the passenger seat, sorting through her thoughts — working out how best to conduct her inquiries so as to identify the victim as quickly as possible.
Jiang Hansheng caught her in his peripheral vision, head down and writing in her notebook, and said, “Still trying to confirm the victim’s identity?”
“Yes.” Zhou Jin nodded.
“How are you thinking about it?”
It had the easy cadence of idle conversation, though Jiang Hansheng’s voice carried its usual cool undertone. The question gave Zhou Jin the brief, disorienting impression that she was being questioned by a form teacher.
She organised her thoughts and said, “The autopsy report indicates the victim was a young woman, around 22 years of age. The Shangyue Hotel is in a fairly out-of-the-way location — foot traffic wouldn’t be high. On top of that, she never returned after leaving on the 23rd, so there would be no check-out record. Taking all of that together, we should be able to pull her up quickly from the electronic records.”
Jiang Hansheng nodded in agreement.
Zhou Jin considered a moment longer. “And she was very attractive. The hotel staff might have a reasonably clear memory of her — worth asking around. Once we’ve confirmed her identity, the follow-up work should fall into place much more easily…”
“How so?”
Zhou Jin answered: “On the night she was killed, she took a taxi from the Shangyue Hotel to the area near the Tonghe riverbank. For a woman to agree to go out to the outskirts in the dead of night to meet someone — the killer was almost certainly someone she knew. Once we map out her personal connections, tracking him down is just a matter of time.”
Even the thought of it made Zhou Jin restless with anticipation. Catching the killer would let them follow the thread back to the source — and that meant finding out where the service weapon had come from.
Jiang Hansheng allowed himself a mild smile. Her thinking, at least, was clear.
“It seems Team Leader Tan has taught you well.”
Zhou Jin nodded.
Tan Shiming and Zhou Jin’s father had been colleagues together in the same public security brigade. The two went back a long way, and after Zhou Jin joined the Major Crimes Unit, though Tan Shiming held her to exacting standards, he had genuinely taught her everything he knew.
Zhou Jin tilted her head and studied Jiang Hansheng’s expression with narrowed eyes. “So, Professor Jiang — is there anything you’d like to add?”
She had the air of a diligent student waiting for her teacher’s commentary and approval.
Jiang Hansheng’s smile deepened. His phoenix eyes curved slightly, and when he smiled, there was a quality to his refined features that was different from usual — more openly pleasant.
“The direction of the investigation is correct. However…”
Jiang Hansheng turned the steering wheel, tapped the brakes, checked the rear-view mirror, and manoeuvred the car cleanly into a parking space.
Zhou Jin looked across the street at the gilt lettering of the “Shangyue Hotel” sign — its lavish, ornate façade somehow out of place in this sparsely populated area.
Jiang Hansheng looked over at Zhou Jin. “The premise of checking electronic records is that she registered under her own identification.”
“…”
---
Shangyue Hotel. Front desk.
Zhou Jin produced her credentials and requested the staff member’s cooperation with the investigation.
Jiang Hansheng stood a short distance behind Zhou Jin, his gaze moving with quiet attentiveness over the people she spoke with.
The front desk receptionist was a very young woman. When Zhou Jin asked her surname, she answered honestly — Xu — her expression guarded and nervous, clearly uncertain of herself.
Zhou Jin looked into the guest room records, directing the receptionist to filter step by step according to her specifications. The final result: nothing.
No one matching the criteria.
Zhou Jin raised her phone and held it out toward the receptionist. “Have you seen this woman?”
The young woman glanced at the photograph quickly and immediately shook her head. “I don’t know her — I’m new here, I don’t really have an impression of her.”
Jiang Hansheng’s brow tightened — she was lying.
Zhou Jin asked her to look more carefully. She received the same answer. Zhou Jin pressed her lips together and quietly scanned the lobby. She noticed the security camera mounted in the corner — its indicator light appeared to be off.
“Where is the monitoring room?” she asked.
If the victim had been coming and going from this hotel, the interior cameras in the lobby would presumably have captured something.
The receptionist’s expression grew visibly uneasy. “Um — why don’t I check with the manager first and have him come speak with you…”
Zhou Jin gave her a measured look and nodded. “Fine.”
The receptionist placed an internal call, gave a brief summary of the situation to whoever answered, and within two or three minutes, a heavyset man came stepping briskly out of the elevator.
The manager spotted Zhou Jin and came forward with a practiced, warm smile, extending his hand, assuring her of his full cooperation with the police.
When Zhou Jin asked about the lobby security camera, he replied in a tone of considerable regret: “I’m terribly sorry, Officer — that camera has been broken for over a month. We simply haven’t gotten around to fixing it. Today — today I’ll get someone in to repair it.”
Zhou Jin smiled. “What a coincidence.”
Before joining the Major Crimes Unit, Zhou Jin had worked in the Vice Suppression Unit of the Public Security Brigade. She had spent more time staking out hotels than she had sitting at her own desk. She had heard this kind of smooth deflection far too many times to be impressed by it.
At that moment, Jiang Hansheng, who had been standing to one side in silence, spoke: “Do you recognise her?”
The manager started. “I don’t.”
Zhou Jin said, “You haven’t even looked at the photograph yet. How can you be so certain?”
The manager’s complexion went pale, the warmth draining from his professionally genial expression. “…No, what I meant was — I’m rarely out at the front desk, so I probably wouldn’t have seen her. That’s why I don’t recognise her.”
He reached up and nervously touched his nose.
Jiang Hansheng cut his hand short: “Before a person learns how to lie, they ought to learn how to control their body language.”