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

down a corridor. “Along there, first door on the right,” he said.
    Inspector Zhang thanked him and walked along to the bathroom. When he got back to the sitting room, Sergeant Lee was sitting on the sofa next to Wong. They were looking through a photograph album. There were tears in Wong’s eyes.
    â€œWe’ll leave you now, Mr. Wong,” said the inspector. “And once again I’m sorry for your loss.”
    Wong sniffed. “What will happen now, Inspector?”
    â€œOur investigation will continue,” said Inspector Zhang.
    Mr. Wong showed them out. Inspector Zhang smiled at Sergeant Lee as the door closed on them. “I never trust a man who cries easily,” he said.
    â€œHe’s just lost his wife,” said Sergeant Lee. “Wouldn’t you cry if you lost your wife?”
    Inspector Zhang considered the question for several seconds, then he nodded slowly. “I would grieve. I would be sadder than I have ever been in my life. But I’m not sure that I would cry. Grief is not about tears; grief is a state of mind.” He took off his glasses and polished them with his handkerchief. “But perhaps you are right. Perhaps I am too critical of Mr. Wong.”
    â€œPerhaps it is the goatee,” said Sergeant Lee.
    Inspector Zhang smiled and walked down the corridor, stopping at the apartment next to Mr. Wong’s. He knocked on the door. It was opened by an elderly Indian man.
    â€œMr. Diswani?” said Inspector Zhang. He held out his warrant card. “I am Inspector Zhang from New Bridge Road police station.”
    Mr. Diswani blinked at the warrant card and then nodded. “I am Mr. Diswani,” he said,
    â€œDid Mr. Wong have occasion to talk to you about the volume of your television set last night?”
    Mr. Diswani’s jaw dropped. “He called the police about that? I told him, it was no louder than usual but he pointed his finger at me and called me terrible names.”
    â€œAnd what time was this?”
    â€œAbout ten o’clock,” said Mr. Diswani. “And I turned the volume down immediately, but then I could barely hear it. Come in for yourself and listen. I don’t understand why he was so angry.”
    â€œIt isn’t a problem,” said Inspector Zhang, putting away his warrant card. “You enjoy the rest of your evening.”
    Mr. Diswani closed the door, muttering to himself. Inspector Zhang and Sergeant Lee walked to the elevator and went down to the ground floor. “So what do you think, Sergeant Lee?” asked the inspector as they headed for their car.
    Sergeant Lee sighed. “It is confusing,” she said.
    â€œYes, it is,” agreed the inspector. “Let us suppose that she was murdered, that she was dead before she hit the ground. So the question we have to ask, Sergeant Lee, is why the murderer felt that they had to kill Mrs. Wong twice.”
    â€œOverkill,” said Sergeant Lee as Inspector Zhang unlocked the front passenger door and climbed in. Sergeant Lee got into the driving seat and closed the door. “Perhaps the killer wanted to make sure that she was dead,” she said.
    â€œThere are easier ways to do that,” said Inspector Zhang, settling back into his seat. “Besides, I think it would be obvious that she was already dead so there would be no need to make sure.” He sighed and took off his spectacles. “I think I am getting a headache,” he said, massaging his temples
    â€œI have aspirin in my bag,” said the sergeant.
    â€œWe can wait until we’re back in the office,” said Inspector Zhang. “Aspirins are best taken with water.” He put his spectacles back on. “Water,” he said. “I’d forgotten, the water.”
    â€œWater?” repeated Sergeant Lee.
    Inspector Zhang turned to look at her. “Celia Wong drowned, but her clothes were dry when she went off the building. How could that be