Zhou Jin left it at that, turned, and walked to Tan Shiming’s office.
Tan Shiming heard the knock and set down his cup of water, telling Zhou Jin to come in.
Zhou Jin: “Mentor, you wanted to see me? You said on the phone there was a new lead — have you identified Qi Zhen?”
Tan Shiming shook his head. “We checked. No record of anyone named Qi Zhen either.”
Zhou Jin: “Then what’s the lead?”
Tan Shiming regarded Zhou Jin with a meaningful, slightly mysterious look for a moment, then first asked her: “That time you took part in the rescue operation at Jingang Wharf…”
Zhou Jin covered her face. “Are you here to hold me accountable?”
Tan Shiming said: “No — I mean, after that operation, when you came back to file your report, you mentioned that you lost your communications equipment while apprehending the enemy sniper?”
Zhou Jin nodded. “Yes — an arm-mounted radio. I must have lost it during the struggle with that person, right there in that central control tower.”
“It was never found.”
Zhou Jin furrowed her brow.
Tan Shiming said: “You told me last time that you encountered Jiang Cheng that day — is that right?”
Zhou Jin nodded: “Yes. He was…” She paused, then continued with her report: “He was acting as the receiving contact for that group of criminals.”
Tan Shiming sat in thought for a moment, his hands folded together in a steepled shape. Zhou Jin watched his face — all hesitation and indecision — as though he were weighing something in his mind. Tan Shiming was normally decisive and unflinching; it was rare to see him this uncertain.
Zhou Jin asked: “What is it?”
After another half a minute, Tan Shiming retrieved a USB drive from his desk drawer, connected it to the computer, and opened an audio file.
“This was picked up by the technical division from the police frequency band,” Tan Shiming said. “Come listen.”
---
After a burst of static, the signal appeared unstable. The audio came in and out, fading in and out.
“Brother Cheng, what are you up to?” This line was slightly distant, with some background noise mixed in.
Then a man’s voice came through clearly — close to the receiver, unhurried:
“It’s currently 6:18 in the afternoon. I heard there’s a boxing match livestream, not sure if I’ll be able to catch it. Is it raining outside?”
“It is — coming down pretty hard too, this godforsaken place.” One person answered him. “Brother Cheng likes boxing?”
“Don’t like boxing. I like watching the ring girls.”
His voice was lazy and unhurried, threaded through with faint static, simultaneously sensual and dissolute.
A round of laughter followed, and then another voice called over to him: “A’Cheng, come play cards. Of all the people here, your eyes are the sharpest — take a look and tell me if this kid is cheating. He keeps winning. How does he keep winning?”
He replied: “There are only five of us — mahjong needs one more. Don’t worry, he wouldn’t dare cheat. You’ve got a gun on your hip.”
“Fair enough, the kid wouldn’t dare try anything with me. Forget it — losing is driving me up the wall. A’Cheng, take my seat and take my money too, win it back for me. I heard you were absolutely dominant inside when you were doing time — raked it in, didn’t you?”
“‘Raked it in’ is too strong. A few packs of cigarettes, that’s all.”
---
The audio cut off abruptly.
Tan Shiming raised his eyes and looked at Zhou Jin. “Can you tell who that is — the one speaking?”
Zhou Jin’s hand clenched tightly. A layer of warm sweat rose on her palm. Then she nodded: “It’s Jiang Cheng.”
Tan Shiming: “You’re certain?”
Zhou Jin did not hesitate for even a moment: “I couldn’t be wrong.”