After seeing the two officers out, Zhou Jin turned around and called Jiang Hansheng.
Over the phone she walked him through the basic details of what she’d learned, then asked, “Why did you want to look into this?”
Jiang Hansheng was sitting at his desk, stirring a freshly ground cup of coffee, his gaze drawing back from a screen covered in a mass of blood-soaked photographs.
He thought for a moment before replying. “Since this was a crime of passion, Guan Ling must have done or said something that Lai Zhengtian couldn’t bear to hear. What would be enough to send him over the edge?”
The leverage Guan Ling was holding over him? Zhou Jin mentally shook her head. That was unlikely.
Guan Ling and Lai Zhengtian had already reached an agreement. She wouldn’t leave a lifeline within reach and then, on top of that, push her luck — risking her life to provoke Lai Zhengtian further.
So what else could be Lai Zhengtian’s raw nerve? Something that would make him, in a single burst of rage, draw his weapon without a thought for the consequences and shoot Guan Ling dead.
Quickly, the answer that surfaced in Zhou Jin’s mind converged with Jiang Hansheng’s calm, unhurried voice: “His left hand.”
Lai San’er had He Wu as a cousin to back him up, and had always swaggered through life unchecked — he didn’t even fear breaking the law, because no one had ever dared cross him.
He had been a man of absolute pride and confidence. And yet after that one night, he became a man with a crippled limb.
What Jiang Hansheng had not expected, however, was that Lai Zhengtian had also suffered sexual assault that same night.
He recalled the testimony Hongyun had given in her written statement, and said to Zhou Jin, “Hongyun once mentioned that after Jiang Cheng…”
He paused.
After roughly two or three seconds of silence, Jiang Hansheng’s voice — carrying little warmth — came through again: “After Jiang Cheng left Haizhou City, Lai Zhengtian subjected Guan Ling to prolonged abuse out of revenge.”
Zhou Jin quickly pulled up Hongyun’s written statement and confirmed what Jiang Hansheng had said.
“From a professional standpoint, this kind of intense sadistic tendency stems from multiple motivations, but it is typically accompanied throughout by sexual release — that is to say, the venting of sexual urges.”
---
Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng.
Jiang Hansheng thought back to when he’d come to the Major Crimes Unit, and the woman named Yu Dan had told him that Zhou Jin had gone to Phoenix Blaze.
He thought of the missing button at Zhou Jin’s collar when she returned, and the way she had looked him directly in the eye when she lied.
---
Jiang Hansheng found he couldn’t concentrate. He simply removed his glasses, pressed his hand against his brow, and closed his eyes for a while.
After some time, he continued: “Lai Zhengtian was sexually assaulted by another man — which was the equivalent of having his dignity as a man stripped from him entirely. His abuse of Guan Ling was, in reality, a form of self-soothing and compensation.”
Zhou Jin understood now. “You mean Guan Ling very likely brought up this incident, and that’s what pushed Lai San’er over the edge?”
“Even if she didn’t bring it up directly, this particular wound would be a powerful instrument for breaking through Lai Zhengtian’s psychological defenses. Pass that on to Team Leader Tan — it might be worth trying during the interrogation.”
She caught a trace of exhaustion in the tail end of his voice and said, “Understood. Get some rest.”
Jiang Hansheng paused, then, before ending the call, asked, “Are you coming back tonight?”
Zhou Jin was jotting down key points for the interrogation in her notebook and answered without looking up, “No. Everyone’s stretched thin — they need the hands here.”
Jiang Hansheng let out a quiet sound of acknowledgment, then said, “Zhou Jin.”
“I’m listening.”
“The wedding ring — where did you put it?”
Zhou Jin thought carefully for a moment and said, “At my place.”
Working on the front line wasn’t very compatible with wearing a ring. After Jiang Hansheng had proposed to her, she had placed the wedding band in her wardrobe, and had not worn it once.
“Why do you suddenly ask?”
“Nothing,” Jiang Hansheng said. “You stay busy.”