HH Chapter 47

“I’m just mirroring the suspect’s psychology,” Pei Qinghuai explained. “The suspect likely has a low level of education, is around fifty to fifty-five years old, and has some anti-surveillance skills.”

Cheng Ye turned to look at a photo of Chen Mengyao on the bedside table. Her innocent smile and clean, white dress made her appear pure and angelic. He recalled the scene in apartment 509 where one of the bodies was dressed in a similar white dress, now stained with blood and grime.

Pei Qinghuai closed his eyes, deep in thought. After a moment, he left the room, standing in the hallway. Cheng Ye bagged the last of the evidence and joined him outside.

“Chen Mengyao lived in 301, yet she died in 509,” Pei Qinghuai mused. “If someone ambushed her, she should have run downstairs, not upstairs.”

Cheng Ye looked down the hallway. “She was forced to run upstairs.”

Pei Qinghuai suggested, “Shall we check the scene?”

They walked slowly, hoping to find clues in the stairwell or corridor. Residents of the fifth floor, feeling unlucky about the incident, were hurriedly packing and heading downstairs, making the hallway crowded.

Pei Qinghuai moved slowly along the wall, his attention caught by something beneath the fire hydrant. Pushing aside some trash, he found a silver phone with a shattered screen. He tried turning it on, but it was unresponsive, so he bagged it as evidence.

“Find anything?” Cheng Ye asked as Pei Qinghuai approached.

“A phone,” Pei Qinghuai replied, shaking the evidence bag. “It’s dead, but we can have Zhang Yibao check it.”

Once the crowd thinned, Cheng Ye opened the door to apartment 509. The investigation team was still meticulously examining the scene.

The living room showed signs of a struggle. The weapon, previously left carelessly on the floor, was now bagged as evidence.

“Don’t you think…” Cheng Ye stood in front of the bodies, questioning, “These two bodies seem unnaturally tidy.”

“The blood around them isn’t smeared or dragged, suggesting they moved themselves into position,” Pei Qinghuai noted, surveying the room.

“Who reported Cheng Xiaoxiao missing?” Pei Qinghuai asked.

“Her roommates and her instructor,” Cheng Ye answered. “Her family has been contacted and is on their way from out of town.”

Pei Qinghuai’s expression grew serious. “Frankly, I suspect Cheng Xiaoxiao got caught up in this somehow. I didn’t feel the same unease in her apartment, but I’m not sure how she got involved yet.”

Cheng Ye’s eyes twitched slightly as he leaned in closer to Pei Qinghuai. “What kind of unease? How can you sense that?”

To outsiders, it might seem mystical. Pei Qinghuai’s expression became somber as he stared at a window in the room. “Years ago, I lived with my sister. Someone started spying on us, a foul-smelling, 200-pound man. Ever since then, my PTSD never fully recovered.”

Cheng Ye scanned the room, adjusting his mask. He hesitated before patting Pei Qinghuai on the shoulder but stopped short. He cleared his throat, “If you ever get spied on again, come find me. I’m right next door.”