The Eight Curious Cases of Inspector Zhang by Stephen Leather Read Free Book Online Page A

to sit on the sofa next to Mr. Wong. She put her arm around him. Inspector Zhang sighed, but didn’t say anything. It was not procedure to offer physical comfort to the recently bereaved, but Sergeant Lee was young and relatively inexperienced and a woman. He made a mental note to mention it to her later.
    â€œWe’re very sorry,” whispered Sergeant Lee.
    Mr. Wong cried for several minutes, then he suddenly got up off the sofa and rushed to the kitchen. He reappeared shortly afterwards, dabbing at his face with a piece of kitchen towel. “Is it okay for me to have a drink?” he asked Inspector Zhang.
    â€œOf course,” said Inspector Zhang.
    Mr. Wong went over to a cupboard, poured himself a large measure of brandy and sat down again. He took a long drink, his hands trembling. “What happens now?” he asked.
    â€œAt some point you will have to go to the Forensic Medicine Department to identify the body, but that is a formality. It is definitely her, I am afraid. Then you need to contact a funeral director to make arrangements.”
    Mr. Wong nodded at the inspector and dabbed at his eyes again.
    â€œMr. Wong, I know this is painful for you, but I do have some questions for you,” said Inspector Zhang. “Was your wife troubled in any way?”
    â€œShe was having problems at work,” said Mr. Wong. “She works for an import-export business and they were about to downsize. She was worried she might lose her job.”
    â€œAnd where do you work, Mr. Wong?”
    â€œAt the airport. I work in the baggage handling department.”
    â€œAnd were you and your wife having any problems?”
    â€œWhat are you suggesting?” said Mr. Wong. “Are you saying that you think my wife killed herself because of me?”
    Inspector Zhang held up his hands. “Absolutely not, Mr. Wong, but it would be helpful if we knew what her state of mind was when she was on the roof.”
    â€œWhy? She’s dead. That’s the end of it. She killed herself. Why do you need to know what she was thinking? Will knowing bring her back?” He sniffed and wiped his eyes.
    Inspector Zhang grimaced. “It’s my job, I’m sorry. It’s just …” He left the sentence unfinished.
    â€œWhat?” said Mr. Wong.
    Inspector Zhang shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “The thing is Mr. Wong, people either want to kill themselves, or they don’t. Those that do tend to just do it. They write a note, usually, and then they do what they have to do. But there are others for whom suicide is a cry for help, they want attention, they want to be noticed, they want to talk.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œSo your wife is unusual in that she did both. She was talking, she was shouting that she wanted to jump, and then she did. That is a rarity. Once they start to talk, they usually continue. That is why we have negotiating teams who are trained to deal with a person in crisis.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I shall not intrude on your grief any longer. Someone from the Forensic Medicine Department will call you to arrange a viewing.”
    â€œA viewing?”
    â€œTo identify the body. That has to be done by a relative.”
    Mr. Wong didn’t get up and Inspector Zhang and Sergeant Lee saw themselves out.
    â€œWould you like to know something, Sergeant Lee?” asked the inspector, as they walked out of the building.
    â€œOf course,” said the sergeant.
    â€œI never trust a man with a goatee beard,” he said. “I’m not sure why, but there is something inherently deceitful about a man who spends an inordinate amount of time shaping his facial hair, don’t you think?”
    Sergeant Lee frowned. “I’ve never given it much thought,” she said.
    â€œYou should, Sergeant,” said the inspector.
    Sergeant Lee took out her notebook and scribbled in it.
    Inspector Zhang was at his desk at exactly nine