Chapter 054: Case Closed, Or Just Beginning?

Li Deshui’s facial muscles contorted, his previous calm and gentle demeanor utterly vanished. He struggled with growing ferocity, while Chen Fan took a few steps back, wary of Li Deshui’s next move. At that moment, the person Li Deshui most wanted dead was me; he knew who had orchestrated his downfall, and Chen Fan was certainly another target on his list.

Li Deshui no longer spared Chen Fan a glance, fixing his murderous gaze squarely on me, as if he wished nothing more than to kill me where I stood. Chen Fan came to my side. The wind on the pier was fierce, the sound of waves crashing against the shore thunderous. Following my cue, Chen Fan pressed on, “But there’s still one thing I can’t understand—why did you have to improvise with materials at the scene?”

In truth, it wasn’t hard to explain why Li Deshui hadn’t taken away or destroyed the piece of pipe and the hair dryer after committing the crime. The pipe was connected to the water supply—should the police, during their investigation, casually turn on the tap and find a leak, they would immediately suspect something amiss with the pipe.

On the contrary, if the pipe had been cleaned, taped together, and concealed behind the washing machine, even if the police eventually discovered it, they might simply assume it had been repaired with tape. The bathroom itself was unremarkable and easily overlooked; if it hadn’t been for the old woman next door mentioning the sound of something being moved, we might never have paid attention to the washing machine at all.

As for the hair dryer, it wasn’t easy to remove either. The heater, washing machine, and hair dryer were all standard furnishings in the rental. If anything went missing, the police would certainly investigate, and if they noticed a hair dryer was inexplicably gone, they would inevitably link it to the crime.

Such risks outweighed any benefit. Besides, judging by Li Deshui’s reaction, he had never imagined he would be undone by something as trivial as a hair dryer.

All of this could be explained, but the most perplexing question remained: why did Li Deshui choose to improvise on the spot? A length of pipe and a hair dryer were small, easily portable props. Only by unraveling all the mysteries directly tied to the case could we claim to have truly solved it.

At my whispered urging, Chen Fan voiced this question. Li Deshui burst into a hoarse, manic laughter. I had seen many murderers, and most, when exposed, descended into despair, nearly mad. Yet Li Deshui’s reaction was different—not despair, but a kind of excitement. His reaction unsettled me even more.

The men Luo Feng had sent to look for Yun Gao had yet to return.

While I glanced around anxiously, Li Deshui suddenly spoke, “You’re the cleverest person I’ve ever met. Why bother asking me? Can’t you figure it out yourself?”

As Li Deshui said this, all eyes turned to Chen Fan, assuming the remark was directed at him. But I knew otherwise; Li Deshui was speaking to me. I frowned, thinking carefully. Soon, I recalled his identity as a magician and the shifting methods in his handling of the case.

At first, Li Deshui had tried to attribute the crime to supernatural forces, aiming to turn it into an unsolvable mystery. His initial trick involved bloody handprints on the walls, creating the illusion that, although the body showed no external bleeding, the walls were covered in bizarre prints.

He could have brought tools with him, yet he chose to improvise, which suggested that force-feeding the body had not been part of the original plan. In other words, it was not premeditated but a spur-of-the-moment decision. Given the time constraints, Li Deshui had no opportunity for further preparations.

As a magician, his profession demanded innovation; his imagination and creativity surpassed that of ordinary people. Coming up with such a strange method on the fly to make the case even more bizarre was entirely within reason. Perhaps, just before he began burning coal to produce carbon monoxide, the idea struck him.

The food, however, must have been prepared in advance. Li Deshui wanted to conceal the fact that Lao Jiu and the others had been imprisoned for three days. He knew that for the police to be stumped by the lack of struggle, he needed to employ other tactics. I surmised that the reason Lao Jiu and the others didn’t resist was not only because they’d lost a large amount of blood but also because they’d been starved for three days.

If their stomachs had been completely empty, the coroner would easily determine they’d been without food for a long time before death, nullifying any attempts to mislead the police. So, Li Deshui must have intended to feed them a little before their deaths, which explained why he had prepared food in advance.

But when the time came to feed them, the magician in Li Deshui suddenly conceived an even more bizarre way to complicate the case. Lacking time to prepare new tools, he simply improvised with what was at hand. Later, when ordering food, he only needed to order the same type of food he had already prepared.

I whispered my deductions behind Chen Fan, who promptly voiced them aloud. No one knew what I had said to him; Chen Fan remained the face of these revelations, so the police harbored no suspicions. Only Li Deshui kept staring at me.

Yet he did not expose me. Instead, he laughed and acknowledged my reasoning.

“Do you know what kind of magic act is the hardest to see through, the most baffling?” Li Deshui suddenly asked. Without waiting for a reply, he answered himself, “It’s the tricks conceived on the spur of the moment. The more meticulously you prepare, the easier it is for others to find clues. Anything I can think of, someone else might as well. But if even I only come up with it at the last second, how could anyone else guess?”

There was truth in his words. The more elaborate the preparation, the more likely it is to leave traces. It is often the unexpected, improvised actions that defy understanding. In reality, we had never guessed Li Deshui’s intentions until now.

“What about the short-haired woman?” Chen Fan asked.

Li Deshui sneered, “A woman of the streets. Show her a little kindness and she’ll follow you blindly—such foolishness.”

His words angered many. Li Deshui had manipulated many people, and with the short-haired woman, he had exploited her feelings. Humans are creatures of emotion, and feelings often blind us. The short-haired woman had been deceived by her own heart. Sadly, she was willing to take the fall for Li Deshui, never realizing she was being used all along.

Had she heard his words, her heart would have frozen over.

I had Chen Fan ask again about Yun Gao and Yun Qing. He nodded and asked, “Why did Yun Qing take the blame for you? And why did Yun Gao repeatedly interfere with the police investigation?”

Li Deshui gave me a wry, lingering look, remaining silent for a long while before finally replying with just three words: “I don’t know.”

When Chen Fan asked why he had killed Lao Jiu and the others, Li Deshui also refused to answer.

I realized he had no intention of revealing the secret of the Three Pines Temple. Luo Feng, growing impatient, was about to rush over, but I stopped him with a shake of my head. Li Deshui was taken away. Since Luo Feng and Da Xi’s men had not yet come to blows, the police did not intervene further.

Perhaps the authorities in the port district did not yet feel it was time to eradicate the gangs entirely, so they let things slide. When the crowd had dispersed, Luo Feng’s men, sent to search for Yun Gao, returned empty-handed. Chen Fan asked me what we should do next. I took a deep breath, feeling a headache coming on.

The Ghost Takeaway case was nearly solved, and the suspect, Li Deshui, had been arrested. Yet what concerned me more—the motive and the secret of the Three Pines Temple—remained a mystery. It was late, so we returned to the hotel. Luo Feng and Chen Fan, exhausted, went straight to bed. The youngster collapsed onto his bed as soon as we arrived.

But I lay awake, unable to sleep the entire night.

At dawn, I dragged Chen Fan out of bed and told him to take me to the police station—I wanted to see Yun Qing and Li Deshui alone. Having just helped the police crack the port district’s largest case, Chen Fan’s standing with the authorities had certainly improved, giving us an advantage.

When we arrived at the station, the officers told us that Li Deshui had already been interrogated and confessed to everything. Chen Fan immediately asked if Li Deshui had explained his motive for killing Lao Jiu and the others. The police replied that the motive was simple: Lao Jiu and his group, upon disembarking that day, had bumped into Li Deshui and gotten into an argument.

I was momentarily stunned. At the time, when Luo Feng was investigating at the dock, someone had indeed mentioned seeing Lao Jiu's group collide and argue with others. But no fight broke out, and according to witnesses, they had argued with what appeared to be a dock worker.

However, none of the witnesses could recall exactly who it was.

Both Luo Feng and I had brushed off this incident, never imagining it would become the motive officially cited by the police. I realized this was nothing but a smokescreen—a cover story Li Deshui had prepared should he ever be caught.

Li Deshui claimed that Lao Jiu and the others had insulted him, so he killed them. The police also concluded that Li Deshui suffered from antisocial personality disorder—a catch-all motive that could be applied to nearly any case.

As for Yun Gao and Yun Qing, Li Deshui continued to feign ignorance about their actions.

Silently cursing, I arranged, with Chen Fan’s help, to see Li Deshui.

The first thing Li Deshui said to me was, “Fang Han, this is only the beginning!”