Wu Feng lived in a concrete apartment block on the edge of the industrial district, his unit indistinguishable from the hundreds that surrounded it. Chen Wei climbed the stairs, his shoes echoing on the metal steps, and knocked on the door of 7B.
The man who opened the door was in his fifties, compact and muscular, with a face that looked like it had been carved from granite. A scar ran from his left ear to the corner of his mouth, pulling his lip into a permanent sneer.
"Detective Chen," Wu Feng said. He didn't sound surprised. "I've been expecting you."
The apartment was sparse, almost monastic-a single chair, a small table, a bed in the corner. No decorations, no personal items, nothing that might reveal the man who lived there. Wu Feng gestured to the chair and sat on the edge of the bed.
"You want to know about Mrs. Zhao," he said.
"I want to know about a lot of things. Su Yue, for example."
Wu Feng's expression didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes-a flicker of calculation, of a man weighing options. "Ancient history."
"History has a way of catching up with people."
"Does it?" Wu Feng stood and moved to the window, looking out at the factory lights in the distance. "I was twenty-five when Su Yue disappeared. Young, stupid, hungry. The Zhaos offered me a way out of the slums, and I took it. I've regretted it every day since."
"You killed her."
"I drove her to the river. Mrs. Zhao told me to scare her, to make her leave town. Su Yue was asking questions, digging into things that were none of her business." Wu Feng's voice grew distant. "But when we got there, she wouldn't stop crying. She said she had proof, evidence that would destroy the Zhao family. She said she was going to the police in the morning."
"So you killed her."
"I held her under. It didn't take long. She was small, weak." Wu Feng turned back, and for the first time, Chen Wei saw emotion on his face-not guilt, exactly, but something like exhaustion. "I told Mrs. Zhao it was done. She paid me ten thousand yuan and promised me a job for life. I've been working at that factory for twenty years, Detective. Twenty years of looking over my shoulder, waiting for this day."
"You confessed to murder remarkably easily."
"Because I didn't kill Mrs. Zhao." Wu Feng's voice hardened. "I may be a murderer, Detective, but I'm not stupid. Killing her would mean throwing away everything I've built. Why would I do that?"
"Maybe because she was the only one who could connect you to Su Yue's death. With her gone, the secret dies with her."
Wu Feng laughed, a harsh, barking sound. "You think Mrs. Zhao was the only one who knew? Her husband knew. Her daughter found the diary. And Su Yue-" He stopped abruptly.
"Su Yue what?"
"Su Yue had a sister. Twin sister, identical in every way. Name of Su Xue." Wu Feng's scar seemed to pulse in the dim light. "After Su Yue disappeared, Su Xue swore revenge. She said she would destroy the Zhao family, no matter how long it took."
"Where is she now?"
"I don't know. But if I were you, Detective, I'd be looking for a woman with Su Yue's face and twenty years of hatred in her heart."