A Short Story Collection with Non-Human Protagonists - Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Tata and the Detective

The detective’s lips were far softer than they appeared.

They touched Tata softly, and as they did, He floated like a cloud, soaring into the air, unable to land.

Tata tasted roses, thorns, green grass, soil, and the sweetness of a woman’s breath. Morning mist, dawn, the sighs of stars, and schools of fish without bones. Why did skin and orbicularis oris muscles, composed of the most ordinary cells, bring such a singular sensation?

This was the first time He had felt confused since arriving on Earth. Tata could even feel His shadows trembling like the shifting of the earth’s crust. Tata never trembled.

Zheng Xinyan ended the brief kiss and wiped her lips with the back of her hand (as if suggesting Tata was dirty), her tone remaining cold: “You can tell me now.”

Tata was still dizzy. If Zheng Xinyan knew Him well enough, she would have seen that at this moment, His pitch-black tentacles were actually a tiny bit pink.

“You have to take me to see the dead,” Tata said. “I need to touch them to know the truth.”

Particles record all traces, like words carved into stone slabs that can never be erased.

Clang.

The detective tossed the box into a briefcase—the jet-black, common kind that police carry around in public without attracting the slightest suspicion—and took Tata away from her apartment.

Oh, Bangkok, what a fascinating city. Summer was a prison tailored specifically for it; sweat ran down everyone’s spine, and the sunlight was always as sharp as a needle. Skyscrapers and slums stood on opposite sides of the streets. Beneath the billboards of massive multinational corporations, the roads were crowded with overly ornate passenger tricycles, snack vendors, and lush tropical trees.

The Central Police Headquarters was a six-story concrete building standing on a corner of Charoen Krung Road, its glass curtain walls yellowed by rain. Something seemed to be wrong with the ventilation system on the basement level; the entire morgue was filled with the nauseating smell of disinfectant.

Zheng Xinyan placed the briefcase flat on the floor and opened the lid. The highly respected Member of Parliament lay in a coffin-shaped drawer covered in a white shroud, his head barely sewn back onto his neck at a slightly comical angle.

Tata touched his cold fingers, which were paler than those of an ordinary corpse. Tata spoke a name.

“The one who killed him is… Prasert Thongsawat.”

The detective returned to the Major Crimes Unit office and entered the name into the police database. She quickly realized her mistake; that name wasn’t enough to identify the killer. In Bangkok alone, there lived seven men named Prasert Thongsawat.

In a bathroom stall, Zheng Xinyan opened the briefcase again and lined up seven photos printed on A4 paper before Tata.

“Which one is the Prasert Thongsawat you mentioned?” the detective asked urgently.

Tata simply circled leisurely. This was a complex case; the truth was a mess of chaos. Humans were always looking for answers. But only chaos is the truth of all things.

“You wanted to know the killer’s name, and I have granted your wish… As for which Prasert Thongsawat it is, that is another, brand-new question.”

The woman pursed her lips tightly, as if swallowing unvented rage. “What else do you want?” she asked.

Tata hesitated. After that kiss… the things He wanted seemed to be a bit more than before. But He shouldn’t fall too deep into the shallow desires of humans. He had to propose a request that overstepped the rules, one that would never be granted.

“I want to spend the night with you,” Tata said.

The detective was silent for three seconds. She braced herself against the wall of the bathroom stall, stood up, and planted the sole of her shoe on Tata’s face, kicking Him back into the box.

Good, but also not very good. …No one had ever rejected Tata’s deal in such a violent manner. What an arrogant and hot-tempered woman.

Tata lay in the box, sulking for a few days. If it hadn’t been for the sake of that kiss, He certainly would have taught her a lesson. And that kiss, that kiss… oh, Tata would definitely not reminisce about a human’s kiss.

The detective’s investigation was not going smoothly. With no physical evidence or testimony, she could only secretly investigate the backgrounds, histories, and alibis of the seven Praserts. According to police records, none of the seven had any connection to the three headless victims.

The Chief was throwing a tantrum every day, saying that if there was no progress on the “Bangkok Headless Case,” he would throw the entire Major Crimes Unit into the Phayao Reservoir to feed the fish. He had even drafted the transfer orders, needing only to stamp and sign them.

A week later, they met again. Zheng Xinyan’s rented apartment was in an aging residential building in the Phahurat district; the room was as cramped as the wooden box. The wall paint was peeling and flaking, looking like it was mapping out non-existent continents.

The detective wore a baggy T-shirt, and Tata could smell mint-scented shampoo from the damp tips of her hair. The window was too small and the city was windless; the thin blades of the fan clearly couldn’t lower the high temperature here. The woman had just bathed, yet a layer of light sweat was already forming on her chest.

“Hi, Shay. What is it this time?” Tata asked.

Shay, Shay. He liked the feeling of that syllable vibrating through His body.

The bloodshot veins in the detective’s eyes were increasing; she looked exhausted. Her tone was as cold as if she were discussing someone else’s business, but the focus of her gaze drifted by about a millimeter: “I don’t spend the night with anyone… but perhaps, I can go on a date with you.”

Oh, Tata had almost forgotten that absurd deal. He shouldn’t interfere in this case anymore. He would stir up trouble that might be trivial to Him but very difficult for humans. But a date… a date with a lady detective did indeed sound like a proposal with a certain appeal. Like holding her hand and walking on a starlit beach, or sharing a Mojito with her in a five-star hotel with an outdoor pool… or something.

Oh, no. Tata would not fantasize about any romantic stories between Himself and a human.

“Fine,” Tata said reluctantly, deciding to help her one last time. “It’s the Prasert Thongsawat who runs the kway teow shop at the Patpong Night Market.”

Before the impolite detective stuffed Him back into the box, she didn’t even say thank you. Terrible.

Zheng Xinyan and her partner, Anan, disguised themselves as office ladies working nearby and ate kway teow at Prasert’s shop for three consecutive days, secretly monitoring his movements. They found nothing suspicious, except that the kway teow was unexpectedly delicious.

“Where exactly did you get this intel?” Anan asked, feeling suspicious. Anan had short, ear-length hair and wore silver-rimmed glasses; she looked far too refined for a detective.

“Wait a few more days.”

Zheng Xinyan refused to give up. She was right to do so, because Tata never lied to anyone.

“Why are you always lugging this case around? What’s inside?” Anan asked her.

“A power bank and a spare police uniform.” Zheng Xinyan chose the two most unimportant things inside as her answer.

Perhaps because she was so focused on the case, Zheng Xinyan forgot to tightly close the wooden box. Tata would sneak out to watch her whenever no one else was around.

At two in the morning, only one desk lamp remained on in the Major Crimes Unit office. Zheng Xinyan stared at the screen, reviewing news, files, and databases over and over, trying to find any clue linking the kway teow shop owner to the unlucky souls who had lost their heads. The coffee was as thick as mud, yet she drank it all in one go.

Oh, foolish human. She would soon wear her body down into a skeleton. Perhaps a beautiful skeleton, but a skeleton nonetheless. Tata quietly slipped into the cushion behind her seat, making it a bit fuller. This was definitely not to protect the detective’s precarious spine; He just liked being a cushion.

Sometimes, Zheng Xinyan would leave the office work to Anan and follow Prasert herself all night. On late nights when she was truly too sleepy and tired, she would fall asleep in the car. How could anyone fall asleep in the car in such hot weather?

Zheng Xinyan’s brow remained furrowed even in sleep, even showing a few tiny wrinkles. Sweat soaked the T-shirt she was wearing, making the contours of every muscle clearer—the deltoids of her shoulder blades, the serratus anterior on the side of her ribcage, and the external obliques tightening at her waist, drawing two sharp V-lines…

Oh, never mind. Tata had no interest in human muscles. Tata did not swallow. Because Tata had no saliva.

Tata slipped out of the half-open car window. He hated the stifling midnight, so He created a bit of a chilly breeze just to find some fun for Himself. He absolutely did not modify anyone’s dreams, replacing those tragically dead corpses with streams, starlings, and valleys filled with wildflowers.

On the fifth day of following Prasert, the female officers finally found a break. Every night at eleven, the man in his thirties would punctually close the shop and ride his motorcycle home. But that day, he took a detour to the Chao Phraya River.

Zheng Xinyan’s car was parked fifty meters away; she saw him throw a small, irregularly shaped object into the river.

After Prasert left, Zheng Xinyan applied for an emergency search warrant with her team leader and worked with the water police in charge of that area, dredging the river all night. When the morning sun rose, they finally recovered a bone-chopping knife wrapped in layers of plastic bags and cling film.

According to the forensic identification, the blade of this knife perfectly matched the incision on the neck of the headless MP, and the handle also bore Prasert’s fingerprints. Prasert was immediately arrested by the police.

Under interrogation, Prasert admitted to killing the MP because the MP’s wife had once walked her dog and the dog had urinated on his foot, and the MP’s wife had not apologized to him. It sounded like an absurd excuse to brush off the police. As for the other two headless murders, Prasert insisted they had nothing to do with him. Unfortunately, the other two bodies had already been cremated, making it impossible to confirm the killer through blade-mark comparison.

Regardless, the police had finally captured a suspect in the “Bangkok Headless Case.” As for the other questions, answers could be found slowly through interrogation. The police department immediately held a press conference to announce the exciting news.

It was time for the detective to repay her debt. For once, she got off work on time and sat in the garage, opening the briefcase where Tata resided.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked.

Oh, a date. Tata, of course, couldn’t attend looking like this.

The ethereal shadow slowly diffused out of the box, condensing into a humanoid entity. A teenage girl wearing a black tight-fitting camisole and a red tattered skirt leaned over the driver. Her headscarf, dreadlocks, neck, wrists, ear cartilage… every place where accessories could be worn was adorned with complex and trivial silver charms. The girl wore smoky makeup, and her pupils were a very light gray, like two mirrors made of mercury.

“Take me to a nightclub, Shay?” He said, his face almost touching Zheng Xinyan’s lips.

Both Tata and the detective needed to relax properly.

D*mn it. They were too close. He smelled that irresistible sweet scent again. The fresh, vibrant scent of a human woman.

Zheng Xinyan remained expressionless, looking coldly at the girl before her. “Get in the passenger seat.”