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墨書 Inktalez
In the early hours of the morning, just after three o'clock, I was jolted awake by the sound of my phone ringing. It was Li Chuang.
"Old Qin! The DNA test results are in! Zhao Luming's DNA matches perfectly with the DNA found on the water cup at the crime scene! It's him!"
I sat up abruptly in bed. "Is the evidence chain complete?"
Li Chuang spoke rapidly, "According to Lin Qing's testimony and our investigation: First, Zhao Luming had a motive for the crime; second, his alibis provided to the police over the past twenty years are full of holes; third, he lived right across the street at the time, giving him convenient access to commit the crime; fourth, he knows too many details about what happened, proving he was present at the scene; and finally, and most crucially, his DNA was found at the scene! This evidence is enough to apply for an arrest warrant!"
"When are you planning to move in?"
"Right now!"
The next afternoon, I stood in the observation room, looking through the one-way glass at Zhao Luming in the interrogation room. He had been under questioning for nearly ten hours. If he had seemed a bit neurotic before, now he was clearly on the brink of collapse.
In front of him lay an evidence bag containing the violin string used to strangle Lin Wen, glowing faintly under the fluorescent lights. I stared at it for a long time, almost able to envision it wrapped around Lin Wen's neck twenty years ago.
Suddenly, Zhao Luming let out a scream and buried his face in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably. He confessed out of nowhere, saying he wanted to end the torment that had lasted for two decades.
After the interrogation ended, a weary and unshaven Li Chuang returned to the office. Seeing me there, he walked over and patted my shoulder. "Zhao Luming has confessed! Twenty years! This cold case has finally been solved! Old Qin, it's all thanks to you!"
I smiled and handed him a cup of water. He took it and gulped down several large sips before leaning in closer and whispering conspiratorially, "Guess what we found at Zhao Luming's house?"
"What? Lin Wen's belongings?"
"In his study, an entire wall was covered with photos of Lin Wen—many clearly taken from across the street. Each photo had specific dates and times marked… It's quite obsessive..."
As I walked out of the police station, dusk was beginning to settle in. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to the editor of False Murder:
"I think I know how this story should end."
The relevant files and the latest evidence regarding the Lin Wen Case were soon submitted to the prosecutor's office, finally bringing closure to a twenty-year-old cold case.
In the private room, members of the special investigation team were chatting and laughing, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation, having had quite a bit to drink.
"Today is a celebration! Come on, Old Qin, let me toast you!" Li Chuang raised his glass, his face flushed. "If it weren't for you, who knows how long this case would have dragged on."
As I was about to pour some wine, the Little Officer sitting across from me suddenly spoke up. "Brother Qin, I've always been curious—what are the odds? Your novel just happens to resemble the Lin Wen Case so closely, and it just so happens that Zhao Luming saw it..."
"What odds? This is what we call divine providence!" Li Chuang slapped the Little Officer on the head. "But honestly, I was a bit suspicious of Old Qin at first, haha! Good thing your DNA didn't match. Come on, let me drink one for my mistakes!"
I raised my glass and clinked it against his. The liquor slid down my throat, bringing with it a burning sensation that warmed my chest.
After several rounds of drinks, I had indulged a bit too much. I stood up and stepped out of the private room, lighting a cigarette under the night sky.
"What are you thinking about?" Li Chuang swayed over to my side at some point.
"I really didn't expect Zhao Luming to confess so quickly..."
"Ironclad evidence; struggling is useless. Now that the case is closed, how do you plan to end your novel?" Li Chuang slurred slightly as he spoke.
He pulled out a cigarette, and I flicked my lighter to light it for him. "As for the ending... the murderer gets punished, the truth comes to light, and justice is served—how wonderful."
"That ending is too ordinary! It doesn't sound like your style at all!" Li Chuang squinted his eyes and chuckled incessantly.
"You've had too much to drink..."
Late at night, I returned home, feeling the effects of alcohol surge within me as my hand trembled while searching for my keys.
The house was pitch black except for the faint glow of the computer screen in my study.
I didn’t turn on any lights; instead, I walked toward my desk guided by that dim light and fumbled to open the drawer on my right. My fingers brushed against a familiar texture.
It was that old pair of gloves.
I slowly put on the gloves, savoring their perfect fit. After twenty years, they still fit just right.
I walked over to the mirror and seemed to see that impulsive young man from years ago reflected back at me—the one who wore a hat and mask late at night and knocked on Lin Wen's door.
"Xiao Mo, you're still young. When you grow up, you'll understand that this attachment you feel for me isn't love."
Lin Wen's voice was so gentle, yet her gaze held nothing but condescending pity.
I suddenly laughed.
Zhao Luming certainly knew every detail of the crime scene because he was indeed present that night. However, he was hiding behind the curtains across the street, witnessing the False Murder unfold. At that moment, he must have thought he was concealed well, enjoying a view of the woman he loved through his binoculars. Little did he know, he would witness the death of his beloved right before his eyes, and the immense shock caused him to faint. So, he did go to the hospital that day, but he could no longer distinguish between dreams and reality.
It wasn't until he saw my novel that those buried memories began to resurface. At the same time, I stepped out of the false barrier I had constructed and recalled everything from twenty years ago.
Yet now, none of that mattered anymore. This story was finally coming to an end. I faced the computer and pressed down on the final period.
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