Concealment

After finishing the statements, Tang Yu and Xiang Hongbo took their leave. Han Bin personally escorted them out of the conference room, closed the door after watching them go, and the room was left with only four people.

“Xiang Hongbo seemed quite nervous while giving his statement,” Tian Li remarked.

“Who isn’t nervous when being questioned by the police?” Zhao Ming yawned.

Han Bin lit a cigarette, using microexpression analysis to sense that there was something off about Xiang Hongbo. Yet even after interviewing Tang Yu again, he found nothing amiss—her expressions and demeanor remained perfectly natural.

“Nervousness isn’t evidence. If those two coordinated their stories beforehand, it wouldn’t make a difference how we questioned them. Don’t forget, they spent last night together,” Li Hui pointed out.

“Hui, must you always make that kind of joke? I can barely keep up,” Zhao Ming teased.

“You two, be serious. We’re discussing the case here—enough nonsense,” Tian Li chided.

Taking a drag from his cigarette, Han Bin said, “I still think there’s something wrong with Xiang Hongbo.”

“What sort of problem?” Tian Li pressed.

“Just a feeling.”

“Come on, is a feeling enough to count as evidence? Don’t forget, He Shirui’s death hasn’t officially become a case yet,” Li Hui reminded him.

Tian Li flipped open her notebook and glanced over her notes. “During his statement, Xiang Hongbo said he paid for He Shirui’s room. We can start looking into that.”

“Tian Li has a point. Let’s check with the front desk,” Han Bin agreed.

“I’ll call Luo Hongchang over too. Things will go smoother with him present,” Li Hui said as he pulled out his phone and dialed Luo Hongchang’s number.

Moments later, the four of them arrived at the front desk. The receptionist already recognized them, so there was no need to show their badges again. Luo Hongchang had already gotten off work, but he’d called ahead, instructing the receptionist to fully cooperate with their investigation.

Soon, the receptionist produced the records for the rooms and the guests’ information.

“He Shirui, Tang Yu, and Xiang Hongbo booked two rooms. The reservation was made under Luo Xinghua’s name, and he also paid for the rooms,” the female receptionist informed them.

“Now who’s this Luo Xinghua?” Li Hui muttered.

After securing Luo Xinghua’s information, the four of them left the hotel.

“I checked online—Luo Xinghua’s phone number is local,” Tian Li said.

“Three out-of-towners visit, and a local friend hosts them. That makes sense,” Zhao Ming commented.

“Even the best of friends have their limits. Look at these charges—He Shirui’s ocean-view room is 1,800 yuan a night, Tang Yu and Xiang Hongbo’s deluxe room is 800. That’s 2,600 a day. Rich people aren’t fools; money doesn’t grow on trees. Why spend all that without something in return?” Li Hui scoffed.

“It does seem Luo Xinghua’s relationship with He Shirui isn’t ordinary,” Tian Li observed.

“One’s wealthy, one’s attractive. I’d bet Luo Xinghua was pursuing He Shirui,” Li Hui declared confidently.

“Hui, then take a guess—how did He Shirui die?” Zhao Ming winked at him.

Li Hui rolled his eyes dismissively.

“Instead of guessing, we’d be better off taking Luo Xinghua’s statement,” Tian Li suggested.

“I recommend a verbal summons,” Han Bin said.

Tian Li glanced at the printout. “The hotel reservation only lists Luo Xinghua’s phone and ID number, not his address.”

Zhao Ming checked his watch. “Let’s leave it for tomorrow, then.”

Han Bin massaged his forehead with his right hand. “We’ll set Luo Xinghua aside for now. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that Xiang Hongbo is hiding something.”

“If the case isn’t filed, there’s nothing we can do,” Li Hui shrugged.

Han Bin sighed. Without a case, they were indeed powerless. “Let’s report to Captain Zeng. If there’s nothing else, go home and get some sleep.”

The suggestion was met with unanimous approval. Li Hui went to get the car, Tian Li called in their update, and Zhao Ming checked his phone.

Han Bin stepped aside and made a call.

A moment later, a man’s voice answered, “Bin, you’re looking for me?”

“Chen San, where are you?”

“At home, of course.”

“So well-behaved now.”

“I’ve turned over a new leaf! Following the nation’s call: early to bed, early to rise, good health, studying hard, striving forward, all for the country’s development.”

“Alright, cut the nonsense.”

“Heh, heard you’ve transferred to the detective squad. Impressive!”

“Just serving the people. It’s the same wherever I am. Come out and help me with something.”

“Bin, you help the people, I help you—does that mean I’m serving the people too?”

“It does. Qianhao Hotel by Golden Sands Beach. Get over here.”

With that, Han Bin hung up.

Li Hui pulled the car around and poked his head out. “Hop in.”

“You guys go ahead. I’ve got something to take care of.”

“What is it?”

“Send me the photos of Tang Yu and Xiang Hongbo. I want the bartender, Jiang Anyang, to identify them.”

“Want us to come with you?”

“No need. I’ll go alone. Too many people would draw attention, and if Tang Yu or Xiang Hongbo saw us, they’d get suspicious.”

When Li Hui seemed about to protest, Han Bin waved him off. “Go on, get moving.”

After watching the three drive away, Han Bin headed to the bar by the beach. The area was brightly lit, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. The bar itself was quiet and nearly empty.

“Officer Han, back again?” Jiang Anyang asked, puzzled.

“I need you to identify someone.”

“Don’t tell me it’s another dead woman. There’s barely a customer this late—you’re not here to scare me, are you?”

“This time it’s a beauty.”

“Really?”

Han Bin pulled up Tang Yu’s photo on his phone. “Have you seen her?”

Jiang Anyang studied the image. “She looks kind of familiar.”

“Take a closer look,” Han Bin urged.

“I really can’t remember clearly,” Jiang Anyang shook his head.

Han Bin switched to another photo and zoomed in. “What about these nails—do you recognize them?”

“Yes, yes! That color, I remember that. I’m sure of it,” Jiang Anyang replied confidently.

“It’s called peach blossom pink. Remember it.”

“You know about that too, officer?”

“How old are you this year?”

“Twenty.”

Han Bin grinned. “Have a few more Valentine’s Days and you’ll know.”

Jiang Anyang shook his head. “Forget it. I’d rather stay ignorant.”

Han Bin put away his phone. “How much is a bottle of beer here?”

“We’ve got fifteen, thirty, and fifty yuan bottles. Which do you want?” Jiang Anyang handed him the drinks list.

Han Bin closed the menu without looking. “If you don’t want to ring up a sale, I’ll leave now.”

“No, no, don’t go! I’ll give you the staff price—just say it’s for me, alright?” Alone by the sea at night, thinking of the woman’s body found on the sand, Jiang Anyang felt a chill run down his spine.

Every time he looked down at his phone, he couldn’t help but worry something would crawl out of the ocean.

“How much for one bottle?”

“Five.”

“How much?”

“Three.”

Han Bin waved his hand generously. “Two bottles.”

“Only for you, brother. You give me a sense of instant camaraderie. Anyone else, I wouldn’t sell at this price for the world.”

Han Bin smiled, thinking to himself that the guy was just scared of being alone.