Peter May - The Killing Room

‘Yeah, like an extreme loss of face.’ Li was treading carefully. He had no idea how loyal, or otherwise, Mei-Ling might be to her boss. ‘It must be pretty humiliating to have the Mayor’s policy adviser appoint a junior officer over your head.’

Mei-Ling chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. ‘But I doubt if losing face means much next to losing the person you love,’ she said.

Li frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that his wife’s terminally ill. And from the sound of it, I don’t think she has long to live. So don’t flatter yourself, you probably don’t come very high on his list of priorities at the moment.’

Li lit a cigarette and drew on it thoughtfully. It certainly explained, if not exactly justifying, the man’s lack of courtesy. ‘Let’s go talk to the night watchman,’ he said.

They picked their way through the mud and puddles to a small blue-painted wooden hut at the rear of the site. A light blazed at the window, and through it they could see a young man leaning back in an old wooden armchair, feet up on the table, nursing a jar of cold green tea and watching a small portable television. He stood up as soon as they came in, apparently excited by their visit. He drew up two stools for them to sit on, but Li declined the offer. ‘I don’t mind answering anything you want to ask,’ the watchman said. ‘I told the cops I spoke to when I arrived everything I know, but I want to help any way I can. You want some tea?’

Li shook his head and drew on his cigarette. ‘You worked here long?’

‘Only for a couple of months, since they started delivering materials to the site.’ The young man waved a finger at Li’s cigarette. ‘Those things’ll kill you, you know. You ever seen the inside of a smoker’s lungs?’

Li glanced at Mei-Ling, the echo of her earlier words resonating silently between them. Then he took a good look at the night watchman. He figured the boy was no more than twenty-one or twenty-two. He wore jeans and good boots, and a warm winter coat over a heavy jumper. A pair of thermal gloves lay on the table beside a pile of magazines. There was no heating in the hut.

‘And you have seen the inside of a smoker’s lungs?’ Mei-Ling asked.

‘Sure,’ the young man said. ‘They’re all black and full of holes and kind of slimy and pickled-looking. Put me off smoking for life.’

‘And how would you get to look at the inside of someone’s lungs?’ Li said.

‘Easy. You always section the lungs when you do an autopsy.’ He grinned at their consternation. ‘Hey,’ he said, ‘night watchman on a building site is not my idea of a career plan.’

Li said, ‘And what is your career plan?’

‘Surgery. Or pathology. I haven’t quite decided yet. But probably pathology. That way I get trained in forensics, too, and get to work with you guys on cases like this. Spooky stuff, huh?’

Li and Mei-Ling exchanged glances. ‘Are you saying you’re a doctor?’ Li asked.

‘Medical student,’ the young man said. ‘At Shanghai Medical University, out in Xuhui District.’ He put out his hand to shake theirs. ‘Jiang Baofu,’ he said. ‘I heard what had happened earlier today. The university was buzzing with it. I couldn’t wait to get back here tonight. But they won’t let me see anything.’ He seemed disappointed. ‘You know, I nearly stayed on this morning to watch the ceremony. But we had practical surgery today, and I never miss that.’

‘So this is just part-time?’ Li said.

‘Sure,’ said Jiang. ‘I’m not like some of those rich kids at the university. My parents died when I was just young. I live with my grandparents back home, and no way can they afford to put me through med school. I work nights and holidays, anything I can get. Usually at one of the hospitals, but this paid better.’ He waved his hand vaguely at the window. ‘Not that anyone’s going to steal anything here. But the Americans are fussy about security. That’s why the money’s so good.’

Mei-Ling said, ‘Clearly, then, they didn’t get their money’s worth when the night watchman didn’t even notice someone digging a hole big enough to dump eighteen bodies in.’

The medical student looked hurt. ‘Hey, how am I supposed to keep an eye on the whole place? It’s pitch black out there after ten at night. They don’t even give me a flashlight.’

‘But whoever buried those bodies must have had light to work by. You’d have seen that surely?’ Mei-Ling’s directness impressed Li.

‘Not if I was sleeping.’ Jiang was getting defensive now.

‘But weren’t you supposed to be on watch?’ Mei-Ling wasn’t going to let him off the hook. ‘I mean, isn’t that what a night watchman’s supposed to do? Watch?’

‘Maybe he was too busy watching TV,’ Li said. He glanced at the set, which was tuned in to the Hong Kong music channel, ‘V’. ‘How come they don’t give you a flashlight but they provide you with a television set?’

Jiang laughed. ‘They didn’t provide the TV! That’s mine.’

‘So you watch TV all night?’ Mei-Ling said.

‘Until about twelve. Then, usually, I sleep for a few hours.’ He glanced from one to the other, absorbing their disapproval. ‘Hey, I said they paid better than the hospital, but not enough to stay awake all night. I’ve got to work all day, too, you know.’

‘So you didn’t notice anything unusual in the last week?’

‘No, I didn’t. And if I had, I’d have told your people when I got here. Look …’ he was anxious to justify himself, ‘… usually I get here about seven, do a tour of the site, then lock the gate. I do another check around before the lights go off at ten. Then the only light out there is from the streetlights way over on the far side — and most of that’s still in shadow because of the wall.’

‘What about the workers’ huts over there?’ Li asked.

‘What about them?’

‘That’s their accommodation during construction, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah, but there’s nobody living there yet. Won’t be until they start the construction proper and take on crew. Then there won’t be any need for me.’

Mei-Ling perched on the edge of the table and looked at the magazines Jiang had been reading. ‘ Human Pathology ,’ she read out in English and looked at the student. ‘Where did you get these?’

‘Subscription,’ he said. ‘It’s an American journal. They send it every month.’ And then, again, defensively, ‘I’m interested. It’s my subject.’

Li said, ‘Interested enough to go abducting young women and practising your technique on them?’

Jiang grinned. ‘Hey, now you’re joking, right?’ But Li didn’t smile and Jiang’s grin faded. ‘I didn’t kill anybody. The only people I’ve ever cut up were on the practice slab at the university.’ He paused and leaned forward confidentially. ‘One of your guys told me they’d been hacked to pieces — the bodies out there. Is that right?’

Li thought the boy’s relish was unhealthy. ‘You shouldn’t go listening to gossip,’ he said. ‘Or repeating it.’

Mei-Ling took out a business card, scored her name off it and wrote in another. She handed it to Jiang. ‘Go to 803 Zhongshan Beiyi Road first thing tomorrow morning and ask for Detective Dai. He’ll take your statement.’

‘I’ve got classes tomorrow,’ the student protested.

‘Be there,’ Mei-Ling said, and she stood up to open the door.

Li said, ‘One last thing. Where do you live, Jiang?’

‘I got a place up near Jiangwan Stadium.’

‘No, I mean where’s your home? Where do you come from?’

‘Yanqing, in Hebei Province.’

‘That’s just north of Beijing, isn’t it?’

The boy nodded, and as they turned to go, added, ‘Listen, if your people need any help, the pathologists or anyone … If they’re looking for assistants or anything, you know, I’m happy to volunteer my services. It’d be good experience.’