It was worth trying to have Zhao do or not do something in his own interest, something that could have a bearing on the release of the documentary at the same time, otherwise Zhao would most likely go ahead and have the documentary nipped in the bud.

Perhaps there was not much more Chen could put into the report, but he nonetheless added a couple of sentences toward the end.

In the meantime, I’ve been trying to get a copy of the documentary for you, so you may make the call. She’s still editing it, and it’ll take a couple of weeks before its release. So we have the time to look further into it.

It was not likely that the report would appeal to a senior Party leader like Zhao in the normal circumstances. Under the present circumstances, however, Inspector Chen thought he still had a slight chance. It might work. It might backfire, too. It was a high-stakes gamble.

He had to turn the report in today, though he was still not satisfied with it.

Finally, as Chen typed out his name at the end of the report, it was almost five in the morning.

The bridge was burnt, the boat was sunk, and there was no retreating.

But he did not click send. The first gray of the morning was already beginning to filter into the room as he got up from the desk.

There was no point going to bed now. He moved to the microwave, rewarmed a cup of coffee left overnight, and finished it in two gulps.

He thought about sending a text message to Yu, but decided against it. It was too early.

Putting a copy of the magazine into a large envelope, he was ready to set out.

Detective Yu woke up with a startle, breaking into a cold sweat.

Peiqin was sleeping beside him, one of her bare legs placed across his on the blanket, just like in their ‘educated youth’ days. She had hardly changed, at least not in this aspect.

But Yu did not fall back to sleep until past three, blinking at some patterns shifting across the ceiling, like crouching monsters in the shadows.

Now he was wide awake again, having closed his eyes for less than an hour.

It was the day that the murderer would most likely strike out again.

Yu sat up, placed Peiqin’s leg lightly on the bed, and got down on his tiptoes.

For Detective Yu, Friday morning in front of Lou’s apartment building in Zabei was pretty much a repetition of Thursday morning, except that it started earlier with his stationing himself behind a flowering apple tree.

If today was the day, Lou had to come out to reach the New World for the action before six – in accordance with the established time pattern.

At ten to five, with the sky still so smoggy and somber, Yu saw Lou stepping out, breaking into a jog for a block before slowing down and turning to the direction of the subway station.