The 80s Female Detective's Guide to Self-Preservation [Criminal Investigation] - Chapter 22

Chapter 22

“I didn’t expect someone to spend their precious day off playing ‘Lei Feng’ and doing good deeds for the community,” Xia Sui remarked, dressed in her nightgown after freshening up. She looked at a new row of small potted fruit trees lined up on the balcony.

Sui sat on a small stool by the balcony door, letting the natural breeze dry her hair.

Xia Qiuyuan sat on the sofa, looking intensely serious as she pored over a handwritten guide titled Common Fruit Tree Pests and Daily Care. “I ran into her on the way out. I was… dragged into it,” she muttered.

“If you really wanted to refuse, could she have tied you up and forced you?” Xia Sui took a deep breath. The previously empty balcony was now filled with a light, sweet citrus scent. The most flourishing lemon tree even had a small tag hanging from its pot: it detailed watering and fertilization frequency and noted that it was about to bloom.

Hence the fragrance.

Xia Qiuyuan remained silent, hiding behind the manual and refusing to meet Sui’s eyes. Though Qin Yu hadn’t literally bound her, Qiuyuan blamed her own lack of resolve. She found it impossible to say no to every word that came out of that beautiful woman’s mouth. Even though she had rehearsed a dozen firm rejections in her head, her lips had betrayed her with a simple, “Okay.”

Sui brushed her hair, sighing. “Life is good. Clock out on time, eat on time, the country is at peace… I hope these quiet days last.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Qiuyuan’s left eyelid twitched violently.

“My eye is jumping.”

Xia Sui: “?”

“Take it back! Spit it out right now!” Qiuyuan jumped off the sofa, lunging at Sui. “I have a terrible feeling! Take back that flag! I do not want to work overtime!”

“How do you know it’s not a sign of good fortune?” Sui dodged, laughing.

“If I were destined for wealth, would I be this poor right now? Spit! Spit three times!”

In the apartment next door, Qin Yu sat at her desk, sketching in the notebook she had retrieved from the police station.

She drew a “Rabbit Cop” standing outside the window of the Lingnan Agricultural Lab. The figure was as straight as a pine tree, staring seriously at a calamansi tree that barely reached her shins, despite the crowd of researchers inside staring her down.

Qin Yu chuckled, remembering how her seniors and juniors had swarmed like hungry spirits at the sight of a “legendary” handsome officer. They had teased Qiuyuan relentlessly, calling her “Officer Xia” in exaggerated tones, getting nothing but a pair of bright red ears in return.

“Our lab lacks everything except fruit trees,” the eldest senior had said, plopping a lemon tree onto the small cart Qiuyuan was pushing. “These are just hybrids we play with. They clean the air and the fruit is great for tea.”

“Lemons are nothing compared to our calamansi! This one represents ‘Gold and Jade Filling the Hall’!” the youngest junior had chirped, squeezing another pot onto the overflowing cart.

If Qin Yu hadn’t intervened, half the lab’s greenery would have been relocated to Qiuyuan’s balcony.

April brought the rains to Lingnan. Along with the drizzle came the tedious, grinding work of the first investigation team. Between filing old cases and conducting community check-ins on parolees, everyone was exhausted.

Qiuyuan was chugging water from her enamel mug when the phone rang—a transfer for a criminal case.

Zhuo Yuanqing tucked a file under his arm, scribbling notes. “Understood. Team One is on the way. Keep the scene secure. Don’t let the neighbors trample the evidence.”

He hung up, locked his cabinet, and grabbed his jacket. “An elderly woman was found dead in her home. We need to confirm the situation.”

“I’ll get Sister Wei Min,” Qin Yi said, but Wei Min was already at the door with her kit.

“Fast today, aren’t we?” Hou Ming asked.

“Wei Min spent three months pestering the Chief. We finally got a dedicated phone line in the forensics lab yesterday,” Feng Ying, the new forensic recruit, said with a thumbs-up. “Sister Min is a legend!”

“Stop chatting. Work early, finish early,” Wei Min said, leading the way.

The scene was an apartment block. The victim’s mahjong partners had discovered the body.

“Usually, Ah Juan is down here playing with us by now,” one old lady said, trembling. “She’s addicted to the game. But today, she didn’t show. We went up to check because lately, she’d been complaining of dizziness, nausea, and vomiting.”

“And diarrhea,” another added. “We thought she ate something bad. When she didn’t answer the door and we smelled something… off… we called the police to break the lock.”

“Officer, this has nothing to do with us,” they pleaded with Xia Sui. “We play for small change, just for fun!”

Sui sighed. “No matter the amount, it’s still gambling, ladies.”

Entering the apartment, a thick, bitter medicinal scent hung in the cramped space.

“It’s been twenty minutes since we opened the door, and the smell is still making our heads spin,” the local patrolman said. “A few of the guys threw up after going in. Whatever herbal incense she was using to kill mosquitoes is strong enough to kill people.”

Wei Min, adjusting her mask, suddenly stopped and pushed everyone back. “How many people went in there?”

“Four. The first team got dizzy and nauseous. My partner is still over there retching.” He pointed to three officers leaning over the railing, faces pale.

“Did any neighbors go in?”

“No, we kept them out. But they complained about the smell too. You know how it is in the country—people make their own incense from herbs. Probably just used too much. They’ll be fine once they catch their breath.”

Wei Min’s eyes narrowed. “Get back! Everyone, get back! Whether you went in or not, go wash your hands and faces immediately. Disperse the crowd. If they want to live, they’ll leave. I have enough to do with the one inside; I don’t have time to perform autopsies on them too.”

The crowd, hearing her cold tone, scattered instantly. The sound of running taps echoed through the building.

“Masks on,” Wei Min ordered, handing them out. She held her breath, ran inside, and threw open all the windows.

The victim was in a horrific state: foaming at the mouth mixed with blood, body contorted in a seizure-like state, and pinpoint pupils. There were signs of incontinence on the floor.

Wei Min knelt. Even through the mask, the smell was nauseating. The old woman wasn’t the source; the incense was. She estimated the time of death at over ten hours. The cause appeared to be toxic inhalation from the burning herbs.

In the master bedroom, she found the tray of burnt ash and a sealed bag of transparent powder hidden in a drawer, wrapped in multiple layers of red plastic. Inside was a scrap of rough white paper with an address.

“Give this to Hou Ming,” Wei Min said, handing it to Feng Ying. “Tell them to start there.”