Chapter 5
The interrogation
Several KEP cars arrived and I was surprised to see Roman Tate stepping out from one of the cars as he approached me.
"Agent Caihong, Holden has Gang Hai for questioning. Why wasn't I informed of the suspect?" Roman inquired sharply.
"Because I don't think he's that relevant to the investigation," I responded quickly.
"Your partner seems to think otherwise. He's waiting for you at the office. You're on probation, remember? I've already instructed another team to take over. Make sure to hand over all materials of this case to them," Roman stated, his voice firm.
Pauline had just arrived, making her way to the crime scene with a small forensic team that KEP could spare during the holidays. Making my way back to KEP HQ was uneventful. Holden was holding the door to the interrogation room open for me.
"Hey Lin, over here. He's in there now… What happened? A new murder?".
A simple nod from me confirmed his fears as I made my way to the interrogation room and sat down across from Gang.
"Hi Gang, I believe you've already met Detective Holden," I said, trying to keep the atmosphere calm.
"Yes. Am I in trouble or something?" Gang asked, a hint of worry in his voice.
"Well, sort of, yeah," I admitted.
"I've done nothing wrong," Gang stated firmly.
"Can you tell me where you were three nights ago?" I probed.
"I was probably working on my thesis," Gang replied, he appeared to be a bit uncertain.
"Probably?" Lin pressed for a clearer answer.
"I assume so. It's all I do, besides tutoring students to make ends meet," Gang explained.
"That's how you met Stephanie? Here, let me show you a picture," I said as I presented him with photos of the latest victim at the crime scene.
"Did you do that to her, Gang?" Holden interjected, his tone accusatory.
"No, I didn't do anything to her!" Gang protested.
"It's different when you know the victim, isn't it? Maybe you should reconsider how you decorate your room… Tell me, how did you meet Stephanie?" I continued my line of questioning.
"Did you drown her before stabbing her?" Holden slammed his hand on the table, startling Gang.
"I didn't do that to her!" Gang exclaimed, shaken.
"So how did you meet her?" I repeated, trying to steer the conversation back on track.
"I saw her ad on the school matrix bulletin board," Gang answered.
"What about Lei Na?" I asked, shifting the focus.
"You killed Lei the same way you killed Stephanie, huh?" Holden accused.
"I told you, I met her at Mia's party," Gang said, frustration creeping into his voice.
"Then how come we have partial prints at Lei Na crime scenes that match yours at a 99% probability?" I questioned, my gaze fixed on Gang.
"Did Lei Na resist? Is that why you beat her up so bad?" Holden pressed.
"How many times do I have to repeat myself, I did not do that to her," Gang insisted, his patience appeared to wear thin.
"I have your partial at Lei Na crime scene… Something doesn't fit… You hired her, right?" I asked, my tone softening.
"What?" Gang was taken aback.
"Relax, Gang. I just want to know what happened between you two," I reassured him.
"Aw… yes, I did. I mean… I did hire her," Gang admitted reluctantly.
"Lei Na and Stephanie worked at the same place where you were picked up, right?" I inquired further.
"Yes, I assume so. Stephanie and Lei worked there, but they didn't work in the bath or massage section," Gang clarified.
"What did they do?" I asked as my curiosity was piqued.
"They worked at a special club above Sumin floors, only certain members have access to those special rooms there," Gang revealed.
"What is this place? A brothel?" My question hung in the air.
"I don't know, I never went. But I did see a number of high class corporate people…" Gang´s voice trailed off as Roman entered the room abruptly.
"That's enough, you are free to leave, Gang," Roman announced, cutting the interrogation short.
"What the fuck was that!" Holden exclaimed, his frustration evident.
"What was that, Detective Holden?" Roman asked, feigning ignorance.
"Why are you letting him go? On what grounds?" Holden demanded an explanation.
"The prints may match, but they are circumstantial evidence at best," Roman replied dismissively.
"I'm out of here," I declared, my patience exhausted and not wanting to deal with this commotion between my boss and my partner.
"No, you wait a minute, Roman! Prints are not circumstantial evidence. You idiot…" Holden argued, but I was already on her way out and before I could hear more I made my way to my computer and printed out a small picture of myself, then over the office supply corner I cut out the head to fit the picture on the pass that she took from Stephanie at the crime scene. I was no expert at forging, but it would have to do as she finished the final touches by putting the red lantern villa pass through a laminating machine. Before handing all the leads over to another investigation team I must see what is so special about this club on the seventh floor.
I returned to Mia's work passed without incident. Upon entering the building and approaching the security desk, she presented the guard with a counterfeit pass.
"Alright, you're cleared to go through. But as far as I know, we shouldn't have any clients at this hour."
"I'm just here to do some preparatory work," I replied with a nonchalant shrug.
Once inside the exclusive club, I was enveloped by an ambiance and atmoshphere that whisked me back to an opulence era of of the early 1920s, infused with a subtle Middle Eastern charm. The first space I encountered past the hall was an unoccupied lobby, where a peculiar book on the reception desk piqued my curiosity. Beyond the lobby lay a grand lounge, its vastness accentuated by the high ceilings and plush furnishings. Deeper within, I found a room with a swimming pool, its stillness juxtaposed against a jacuzzi nearby. To the left, a series of private chambers beckoned, each adorned with an array of adult novelties.
I deftly retrieved my lockpicking set from my bag and approached the lobby's door with a determined gait. Once inside I went for the book and started to flip pages, it turns out the book is a VIP guest list. The names of Hong Kong's elite—members of the Board of Governors and influential figures from the corporate and political spheres of the Hong Kong Free Enterprise Zone. Amidst the list of luminaries, one name struck me like a bolt of lightning: "Roman Tate".
Snapping a few quick photos for evidence, I left and retreated to the sanctuary of my office back at KEP Headquarters. Questions swirled in my mind. Was Roman entangled in this case? Could he be shielding the perpetrator? The Perloka Ripper case files beckoned me to dive deeper, with the enigmatic artist Pavel Jaroslav and the possible copycat killer.
But a barrier stood in my way: further details about the perloka ripper case were locked behind a Level 4 clearance—a clearance I did not possess. So my resolve hardened; I knew that I needed to delve deeper into the KEP database if I was going to unravel this mystery. As i sat on my computer pondering the elevator doors slid open, I spotted Pauline stepping out into the corridor.
"Pauline? What brings you here?" I asked, a hint of surprise in my voice.
Pauline raised an eyebrow, "Why does it feel like I've caught you red handed in a cookie jar. I just ran out of report sheets, so here I am."
I shifted a bit uncomfortably. "What's your clearance level?"
"Level 2. You're not snooping around with my credentials, are you?"
"I've hit a wall; I need level four clearance to access certain files."
Pauline's tone softened, "You've stumbled upon something, haven't you? i thought that the other team was supposed to handle this."
I nodded, "I might be onto something, but I'm keeping it under wraps until I've pieced it all together."
"Who taught you to be so secretive?"
With a chuckle, I replied, "You did, back at HKU Academy. Remember?."
Pauline smirked, "Right, I did. But about those files…" She leaned into me closely "Lin Caihong. Only Roman Tate has level four clearance. But remember, we never had this chat," Pauline whispered conspiratorially.
My eyes widened, "You only use my full name when it's serious."
"Why risk your job over this?" Pauline's concern was evident.
My expression probably darkened as I admitted that I felt guilty, "I feel responsible for Stephanie's death."
"How could you be?" Pauline questioned.
I sighed, "If I had acted quicker, if I only dedicated more time to the shamanistic art and if we had set up wards… maybe Stephanie would still be here."
Pauline placed a reassuring hand on Lin's shoulder, "You're not to blame. We did what we could… Really, Lin. You couldn't have changed the outcome."
"Thanks, Pauline. And we never had this conversation…" I trailed off.
"Good luck. And when you crack this case, don't forget to fill me in," Pauline said with a smile.
"I won't. Thanks for everything," I replied, watching Pauline collect her papers and descend back downstairs.
Left alone in the stillness of the office, I approached Roman Tate's door with my set of lockpicks. The door gave way with a soft click, and I slipped inside, heading straight for the desk. The computer, predictably, was password-protected. "Direct to the KEP archives it is," I muttered to myself.
My gaze landed on a wall, a safe. It was secured by a fingerprint scanner. Roman's soykaf mug on the desk caught my eye. I connected the dots. Donning gloves, I took the cup and went to the workstation Pauline had instructed me to retrieve prints from before. Using a powdered brush, I found a suitable print and pressed tape. Using the prints I took it against the scanner. "Bingo," I whispered as the safe clicked open. Inside, mundane documents awaited, along with a crucial find: An elevator key to the KEP archives below the morgue.
Descending into the archives, I located the backup terminal. I initiated the download of the Perloka Ripper files and anything related to Pavel Jaroslav onto my PDA. As data transferred, I moved to the main terminal, delving into the artist files. There, evidence revealed another case of killings in the UK, with signs of tampering. The artist had been institutionalized. Using the writing history program, I unearthed an older version of a document. The investigators had intended to arrest him, but instead, he ended up in an asylum, charges dropped. Bribery, perhaps since the UK investigators ended up closing the case.
My pulse quickened. The room seemed to hold its breath. The door hissed open, and I froze. A stern voice shattered the silence.
"Agent Caihong!, you got a lot of explaining to do!" It was Roman
"So, what now Roman?"
"Don´t bullshit me, you know that you are not allowed down here"
"Listen, I am getting things done and following my leads as opposed to sitting on my ass and
waiting for something to happen"
"Well that's your job, to profile the killer. to try and to guess his next move and alert KEP to do the arrest. Not chasing spirits or killers in dark alleys… I have no choice but to suspend you and you will have to explain your actions in front of the disciplinary committee."
"Don't bother, I quit" I said taking off my KEP badge from my wallet and tossed it to him.
"Hahaha, that's just what I expected from you. you are nothing but a rich little girl who quits when she doesn't get things her way"
"Fuck you Roman, you do not know me"
"Maybe. But I know that you will not get away with this."
"I think that I am: Or I will make certain a list of names from Board of Governors and workers under the executive council to be leaked from a certain S & M club, hey wasn't your name on the list too?"
"How dare you?"
"Just stay clear of me, Roman or the matrix press will have a field day. And hey, are you not married?"
"You little bitch"
"That little rich bitch to you Roman"
Roman's anger simmered, yet he remained rooted, massaging his temples. I brushed past him, navigating my way out of the archives and toward the garage. My car awaited. Destination: Marcel's HKU art studio. There, I hoped to unravel the enigma surrounding Pavel Jaroslav—the sole suspect in the Perloka Ripper case files, my tenuous link to the potential killer or copycat.
In the studio's lobby, I faced Marcel. "Hello, Marcel. Could you share insights into Pavel's life and work?"
Marcel leaned against a wall, his eyes distant. "Certainly. Pavel hailed from Prague, steeped in spirituality. His early works bore Enochian symbols, casting suspicion during the Perloka Ripper case. But as Europe grappled with the chaos of the euro wars, the case crumbled. Seeking a better life, Pavel relocated to the UK, only to spiral into madness—confined to an asylum. His once-vibrant art turned dark, mirroring inner turmoil: A stark contrast to his Prague period. Upon release, he found love with a caretaker, fathering a son. Tragically, Pavel's life was cut short by a lethal mix of medication and alcohol, leaving his son fatherless in kindergarten."
"Intriguing," I mused. "My theory? Pavel was a prime suspect in two UK killings. Investigators received a tip about the Perloka Ripper case. They confronted his father, who shielded the family name by bribing them with a truckload of nuyen. The corrupt investigators accepted, with the condition that Pavel would be institutionalized instead."
Marcel's eyes widened. "Where did you get this information to support your theory?"
Before I could respond, my comlink buzzed urgently.
"Hello?" I answered.
Pauline's voice crackled through. "Hi, sweetie, it's me."
"What's up?" I replied, my focus shifting to the call.
"I answered the comlink at your desk because the damn thing kept ringing. Anyways, this guy named Gang—something—was hysterical. He heard screams and noises from his neighbor's apartment. Figured it was important, or you might know what he was talking about. Thought you should know."
"Thanks, I'll check it out."
"And the files?" Pauline probed.
"Yes it has given me a new lead. But first, I need to see what's wrong at the old HKU campus with Gang," I said. Closing the call I turned my attention to Marcel "Duty calls. I must go,"
"Ok Sweetie, you be careful"
"I always am. Bye"
I reached Mia's apartment and noticed that the wooden door was open. "Mia?" I shouted. The air felt heavy, charged with tension. I stepped inside, my senses on high alert. A blood trail led from the entrance, weaving its way toward the bathroom. Panic surged within me as I followed it.
Inside the bathroom, Mia was hunched over the bathtub, her head submerged in water. I pulled her head out, she was barely gasping for air. She was alive. Before I could check, a sharp jab at my neck stole my attention. Something had been forcefully injected into me. I staggered back, my vision dimming as I pulled it out, it was a syringe.
The killer emerged from behind the bathroom curtains. His attire was eerie: A Victorian-style black costume with a black cylinder hat, and a white mask concealing his face. In his hand, a knife glowed with enochian symbols. He swung it wildly, forcing me to retreat. The lack of technique betrayed his amateur status, but the danger was real.
I seized an opportunity, pulling my leg up for a kick. It created a precious gap, and I sprinted for the exit, slamming the bathroom door shut. My back pressed against the wooden door, and the room spun in front of me. The syringe's contents were taking effect. I needed to stay conscious.
The killer's glowing knife pierced through the door, inches from my head. Desperation fueled my next move—I grabbed a nearby wooden chair and swung it at him as he burst into the living room. The chair shattered, he staggered a bit before he started to swing the knife wildly again. I was pushed back towards the wall where there was a bookshelf. Knowing I needed to go on the offensive I intercepted his mid swing and put my left hand behind his back and pulled myself to his side as I shoved my knee up his torso. Bent forward I shoved him into the bookshelf, head first: two high kicks followed as I later toppled the bookshelf onto him. He struggled, pinned beneath all of the weight. I seized the opportunity and pressed on my comlink: calling for backup as I created more distance between me and the killer.
"This is KEP emergency number. What are you reporting?"
"I am Special Agent Lin Caihong… I need assistance."
"Can you give the address or location?"
"Just track the call. I am at the University of—"
The killer managed to rise, attempting to stab me with a downward thrust. The drug blurred my senses, but I fought on. The timing was critical. As he swung the knife wildly again, I dodged, then struck with an uppercut, a flurry of hits followed and his mask fell off. But before I could see who it was: My vision dimmed, and I collapsed, my gaze fixed on the killer's lower body part as he stood near the apartment entrance.
Gang entered and the killer spun around. The appeared to be delivering a decisive blow as I saw Gang clutching his bleeding neck when he fell on his knees in my field of vision. After a few moments, he fell head-first towards the floor. I could see panic in his eyes before darkness completely enveloped me.
The next thing I knew, I heard Terrance's voice—concern etched in his tone. "Lin, are you alright? Please talk to me."
"Ouch. Oh my god. This is worse than a hangover…" I said, Terrance knelt beside me, checking my vitals with a practiced touch.
"It's a relief that you're okay," he said.
"Did you check on Mia in the bathroom?" I asked, the metallic scent of blood lingering in the room.
"Mia is not there."
"That probably means the killer has kidnapped her," I replied, pushing myself up from the floor. "I think she's alive. What about Gang?" I pressed.
"He didn't make it."
"Yeah, I can see it… damn it."
"At least now we know for sure that he isn't the killer," Terrance remarked from behind me.
"Where did he take Mia? Think, Lin. The messages he leaves behind… of course, it's the paintings." I muttered to myself. Turning to Terrance, I said, "Wait here for backup. I have to go to Marcel's art studio to find any leads about where the killer has taken Mia."
I sprinted toward Marcel's studio, not far from the dormitories of the old HKU campus. Once inside, I scanned the paintings, trying to understand the serial killer's twisted intentions. There it was: "Disturbed Sanctuary," depicting a body in a bathtub—the fourth victim. Another painting portrayed a woman killed in the sewers—the third victim's fate. And then, "A Sinner's Pardon"—the fifth victim: Poor Stephanie. The chilling truth started to unfold before my eyes, I could possibly find the killer by looking for a painting he has yet to depict with his killings.
I discovered a single clue—a painting that depicted a woman beneath a bridge in Prague, likely the Charles Bridge. No physical bridges were nearby in Hong Kong university campus, yet there are ley lines, those invisible bridges in the astral plane that supercharge magic spells and rituals,are present. Knowing the killer couldn't be far, or KEP would have apprehended him and found Mia, I felt the urgency. My resignation from KEP had cut off my direct access to their databases. Thus, I reached out to Holden, requesting he cross-reference geomancy charts over the Hong Kong Free Enterprise Zone with the locations of the previous killings. Ley lines, after all, are conduits for the earth's qi.
Holden's data, arriving after an agonizing wait, revealed a ley line bridge beneath the HKU campus, likely hidden in the basement. My heart raced as I dashed back, fearing for Mia's safety. The search to the basement eluded me at first, but with determination and trying to sense the astral space led me finally to the ritual room. I burst through the door, finding myself in a ritual chamber. Mia lay at the center, encircled by Enochian symbols written in blood. The killer stood over her, knife in hand, poised to strike. Thaumaturgic magic crackled in the air, and a spectral form of the killer that I saw previously in my chase loomed over Mia, threatening to complete the ritual.
With a swift motion, I drew my Ares pistol. The first shot hit the killer, and a light, like the flame of fire, came out from the wound. The spectral spirit above Mia writhed as if in agony. I fired again, each shot intensifying the burning lights within the killer. He began to combust from the inside, the flames consuming his form as the spirit above Mia waned, its existence flickering like a faulty light before disappearing.
When the final embers died down, all that remained were the dagger, the Victorian clothes with the mask, and a pile of ashes. The killer's identity remained shrouded in mystery, but the threat was extinguished. Mia was saved and the nightmarish ritual was successfully stopped.