I’ve imprisoned my brother in the bedroom closet. To prevent him from escaping, I broke all the bones in his body. I cut open his abdomen, exposing his intestines. His organs were removed and soaked in formaldehyde… And yet, he’s still alive. This wasn’t a difficult thing to do. As a professional surgeon, I have a thousand ways to torture him while keeping him barely alive. Main text: The hospital lab reported that a few milliliters of blood were missing from a sample. It wasn’t a big deal initially. Perhaps it was used in some testing process. Or maybe a few extra milliliters were recorded by mistake at the beginning. But the nurse insisted that a few milliliters had gone missing without explanation. Because the patient was HIV-positive, she decided to report it. The hospital administrator said the blood of HIV patients must be taken seriously. If someone with ill intentions took that blood to harm others, the consequences would be unthinkable! The police didn’t take this case very seriously, so they assigned my mentor, Detective Mark Thompson, a veteran officer nearing retirement, to handle it. As his new apprentice, I naturally got involved in this case as well. But this seemingly ordinary case would uncover a huge, hidden truth – one that was cruel and tragic… We didn’t find anything unusual in the hospital surveillance footage. Detective Thompson lit a cigarette and said to me, “Grab the notebook. Let’s go talk to everyone.” So we visited all the doctors, nurses, and anyone who could have accessed the blood samples recently. But there was one person whose home we couldn’t reach – she was never there when we tried. Her name was Rachel Wilson, the youngest ER doctor at the hospital. Detective Thompson and I sat at the nurses’ station, waiting because Rachel was in surgery and couldn’t meet us. “Dr. Wilson? She’s the most skilled doctor in the hospital. She’s kind, has a great temperament, and is beautiful too,” one nurse said. As soon as she finished speaking, the group of nurses started chattering, all saying good things about Rachel. “She had outstanding grades, went straight through her master’s and PhD. At such a young age, she’s already an attending physician.” “That time when we had that violent incident at the hospital, a patient’s family member came at us with a knife. It was Rachel who carefully calmed them down and prevented a disaster.” After spending the afternoon learning about her, all we heard were praises. She seemed to be a person without any flaws. As evening approached, the surgery still hadn’t ended. We figured that once Dr. Wilson came out of surgery, she’d be exhausted. It wouldn’t be right to question her then. The nurses said she had the next day off, so we decided to visit her home tomorrow instead. Early the next morning, we knocked on her door. She seemed to live alone. We heard someone in slippers walking to the door. They leaned against it, watching us for a while before opening. “You must be Detective Thompson. The nurses told me about you when I got off work yesterday,” she said. Detective Thompson nodded as she invited us in. She appeared to have just woken up, wearing a silk robe in a vibrant red that accentuated her perfect figure. As she bent down to pour us some water, her neckline gaped open, revealing smooth pale skin. Detective Thompson and I are men after all. He’s been divorced for years, so seeing such an attractive woman naturally drew his gaze. And as for me, fresh out of the academy and never having had a girlfriend, I couldn’t help but take in the alluring scene. Detective Thompson snapped out of it and surveyed her apartment, in no rush to get to business. In an interrogation, you need to gain the person’s trust first, break down their mental defenses, and look for clues in the details. “You live here alone?” he asked casually. She smiled. “Yes, my brother used to stay here, but he’s away on a business trip recently.” Her demeanor was relaxed, a gentle smile on her face. Detective Thompson made a noncommittal sound, glancing at a closed door behind her. It was a large apartment with two bedrooms. One door was open – presumably her room. The other was tightly shut, likely her brother’s room. Detective Thompson noticed some fake nails on the TV stand, then looked at Rachel’s clean, unadorned fingernails. “Do you like doing your nails, Dr. Wilson?” he asked. She smiled, touching her fingers. “What girl doesn’t? But as a doctor, I can’t really do my nails. So I bought some fake ones to stick on when I’m home and bored.” As she spoke, she stood up and brought over the fake nails. She took one out, compared it to her finger, found it matched her middle finger perfectly, and stuck it on. Detective Thompson, seeing nothing unusual in the home, was about to get to the point. But suddenly a huge noise came from the closed room. Rachel’s expression darkened for a moment as she looked back at that room. “Lucky, behave yourself,” she said sternly. “Lucky?” Detective Thompson questioned. She turned back to us, her gentle smile returning. “I have a husky. He’s quite a handful, so I usually keep him in there.” Perhaps due to his years of experience as a detective, Thompson seemed to sense something was off. He stood up and walked towards that room. Rachel stood as well, warning him: “Detective, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Lucky can be really rowdy.” Thompson kept walking. As he put his hand on the doorknob, just as he was about to turn it… A dog’s yelp came from inside the room, sounding pitiful, as if it had been abused. Thompson opened the door without hesitation. A huge husky bounded out, knocking him over, then ran around wagging its tail and crashing into things. Rachel hurried to help Thompson up, then grabbed Lucky and struggled to get him back in the room. “I’m so sorry, Detective. He really is too much sometimes,” she apologized. Thompson, feeling a bit guilty for suspecting her, rubbed his balding head. “No worries, no worries.” Then he got down to business. “Dr. Wilson, have you heard about the missing blood samples from the lab?” he asked. Rachel fiddled with the fake nail on her middle finger. “Of course, rumors have been going around for a while. Did you check the surveillance footage?” Thompson answered honestly: “We did. Nothing unusual showed up.” She made a noncommittal sound, not saying anything more. But I thought I saw her eyes go cold for just a split second. Even with the smile still on her lips, it felt like falling into an abyss. Thompson felt that he had come to interrogate her, but suddenly found himself answering her questions honestly. It somewhat bruised his pride as a detective, so he straightened up and began questioning her more formally. After a round of questioning, we didn’t find anything unusual. Unfortunately, Detective Thompson, despite his years of experience dealing with criminals, had met his match in her. All that talk of casual conversation to gain the suspect’s trust – turns out we had trusted her step by step under her subtle guidance. The case seemed to have hit a dead end. Detective Thompson told me to close it if nothing else came up. But I felt something was off, so I kept dragging my feet on closing it. Soon, another new case came to the police station. A professor from A University had gone missing. He was supposed to be on a business trip to L City, but when he didn’t return as scheduled, the school checked and found that he wasn’t at the business location or on campus. His phone was also unreachable. After contacting his family, they said he hadn’t come home either. He seemed to have vanished into thin air. At least, that’s how the officer who took the case described it to Detective Thompson. The responding officer said the missing man had left home, and had definitely boarded that flight, but never got off. Thompson asked skeptically, “What do you mean he never got off? Did he die on the plane?” The officer shook his head vigorously. “We checked the surveillance footage for a long time. We found that he definitely boarded the plane, but in the footage of passengers disembarking, there’s no sign of him.” Thompson picked up the file and glanced at the name. “Ryan Wilson. The name sounds familiar.” Then he saw the address – it was the same as Dr. Rachel Wilson’s. “Looks like we need to pay Dr. Wilson another visit,” Thompson said thoughtfully. That evening, I drove Thompson over. Unlike her confident demeanor before, Rachel looked haggard today. She wore plain clothes, her hair carelessly tied back. She didn’t even offer us water. She led us to the couch and sat down, constantly checking her phone. Since this wasn’t our first visit, we weren’t exactly strangers anymore. Thompson got straight to the point: “Your brother is missing?” She nodded, her eyes instantly welling up with tears. “Detective Thompson, please, you have to find my brother.” She grabbed Thompson’s arm, crying uncontrollably. Thompson patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I don’t believe in people vanishing into thin air. I’ll definitely help you find the truth.” She nodded through her tears. We had learned what we needed to, so Thompson and I prepared to leave. As we reached the ground floor, I happened to look up and saw a figure in her window. Though far away, I felt an intense chill. I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. Thompson turned and asked what was wrong. I hurriedly said it was nothing. When I looked back, the window was empty. This case was different from the missing blood samples at the hospital, so Thompson approached it with utmost seriousness. We carefully reviewed the surveillance footage of Ryan boarding and disembarking the plane over and over, until our eyes were strained. But we still couldn’t spot Ryan getting off the plane. We also questioned the passengers seated around Ryan, as well as the flight crew. They said Ryan had gone to the bathroom midway through the flight and never returned to his seat. It was baffling how a person could just disappear like that from a plane. So Thompson, following his years of intuition, decided to start investigating Rachel’s home. We reviewed the surveillance footage from outside Rachel’s building again and again. Ryan appeared in the footage with his suitcase. Rachel saw him off, watching until he was out of sight. We even checked older footage and found that whenever Ryan left for work, as long as Rachel didn’t have an emergency shift, she would always come out to see him off. The siblings seemed to have a good relationship. Sometimes they would even hug before parting. I was exhausted from watching so much footage and started letting my imagination run wild. “Detective, what if Ryan was abducted by aliens for experiments?” I joked. Thompson gave me a withering look. I continued speculating: “Do you think this case could be connected to the missing blood samples at the hospital?” My idle comment caught Thompson’s attention. He gave me a complex look. “Both cases are connected to Rachel Wilson. But if she did it, what would she want the hospital’s blood for? HIV doesn’t manifest immediately. If she wanted to infect someone, who would it be?” Thompson rattled off a series of questions, then continued: “How could Ryan just vanish from the plane? If Rachel did it, how did she manage that?” I was clearly clueless, but Thompson didn’t seem to expect answers from me. “And judging by Rachel’s state, she clearly cares a lot about her brother. If it really was her, what’s her motive?” Right, motive is the key to any case. So we needed to understand the relationship between the siblings better. Thompson and I wasted no time. The next day we went to their hometown to investigate. Their mother made us some tea, her eyes still red from crying. “You’re asking about Ryan and Rachel? They’ve been close since they were little. We were busy with work back then, so Ryan always looked after her.” “You wouldn’t believe it, but when Rachel got her first period, Ryan even helped wash her pants.” “The two were as close as twins. Ryan had better grades, so Rachel was inevitably compared to him unfavorably. But Ryan always defended her and spent hours tutoring her.” Thompson nodded. “Have either of them dated anyone?” Their mother shook her head. “Not that I know of. We’ve been pestering Ryan to settle down, but he always says there’s no rush. I don’t think Rachel is seeing anyone either.” Thompson glanced at me, and I suddenly remembered something. The first time we visited Rachel’s home, there was an opened box of condoms next to the fake nails. At the time, I thought it was normal for a female doctor to have condoms. But now that we know neither of them was dating anyone, who were the condoms for? Thompson immediately called the station. “Zhang, compare the surveillance footage again. Carefully compare the Ryan who left that last time with previous footage. Don’t miss any details.” Officer Zhang grumbled a bit, having watched that footage countless times already, but didn’t dare disobey orders. “Detective, did you notice anything strange?” I asked. Thompson pondered for a moment before replying: “It is a bit odd. Usually when Rachel sees Ryan off, they hug. But not the last time.” I thought hard about the surveillance footage. “But they don’t hug every time. Sometimes Ryan wants to hug but Rachel doesn’t, right?” Thompson lit a cigarette. “That’s true. The strange thing is, the last time, Ryan didn’t try to hug Rachel.” Right, why didn’t he hug her that final time? “And…” Thompson blew out a smoke ring, “That last day, he was wearing a baseball cap. We never got a clear look at his face, just assumed it was him based on the build.” Thompson suspected the person who left that final time wasn’t Ryan at all! Soon, Officer Zhang called back. “Detective Thompson, we did find some differences.” Thompson and I exchanged a glance, waiting for him to continue. “Their stride lengths are different.” “The difference isn’t much, only about 2cm, but it is different.” Zhang hesitated, sounding a bit embarrassed. “We didn’t notice this ourselves. The station just received an anonymous email pointing it out to us.” Thompson’s eyes flashed. “Have you traced the IP address?” “We’re working on it.” After hanging up, Thompson sat in the car pondering for a long while. He sighed. “This isn’t enough evidence. We need to at least find Ryan himself.” We drove back to question Rachel again. She looked exhausted when she opened the door. “Ryan never actually left this apartment, did he?” Thompson asked bluntly. Rachel seemed taken aback, then smiled. “If you don’t believe me, feel free to search every room.” She stepped aside, her openness making us hesitant to suspect her. But we were police officers after all. What was there to be embarrassed about? So we searched every room thoroughly. We even checked under the beds and in the toilet tanks. There truly wasn’t anything suspicious. We turned our attention to the person who had impersonated Ryan. After investigating, we soon uncovered his identity. In the police station interrogation room, he sat calmly, curiously observing us. “What’s your name?” Thompson asked. “Henry Young.” “What do you do for work?” He glanced at the file in Thompson’s hand. “Shouldn’t you already know that?” Thompson cleared his throat and changed the question. “Do you know why we brought you in?” He nodded. “Of course. If you found me, you must know Ryan Wilson’s whereabouts by now.” Thompson maintained his poker face. “Naturally. You know where he is too, right?” But Henry was frank: “I don’t know.” Thompson slammed the table. “You have a good job. If you insist on hiding information, your future will be ruined.” Henry shrugged. “I don’t care. I just want revenge on him.” Henry Young was a crew member for the airline. That day, Rachel found him and asked him to impersonate Ryan, leaving the apartment complex and pretending to board that flight. He was already scheduled to work that flight as a crew member, so he created the illusion that Ryan had vanished from the plane. When asked about his grudge against Ryan, Henry’s story went back many years. In middle school, Henry’s family was poor, so he studied hard, hoping to improve his circumstances someday. Ryan easily maintained the top rank without much effort. Until one time, Henry surpassed Ryan and got the top score on an exam. Ryan, unable to accept this, had Henry beaten up and all his study materials destroyed. Henry’s mother broke her leg working at a construction site to scrape together money to replace his materials. The construction company paid quite a bit in compensation. They had money for new study materials, but his mother’s leg was permanently damaged. So from then on, Henry hated Ryan with a passion. After hearing Henry’s statement, we confirmed that Ryan had never left that apartment complex. Henry leaned back in his chair, looking at us with disdain. “I’ve bought Rachel enough time. Detectives, you don’t actually think you’re clever, do you? Uncovering all this?” Thompson and I exchanged a glance, waiting for him to continue. “All the clues you’ve found were left deliberately by Rachel. You’re quite slow, only getting to me now.” We immediately applied for a search warrant, but it took three days for approval. We surrounded Rachel’s home and broke down the door. Rachel was sitting calmly on the couch, legs crossed. This time she had real manicured nails, blood red, not the fake ones from before. She held a glass of red wine. Seeing us enter, she barely glanced over, taking a sip of wine. She set down her glass and stood up gracefully, walking to Detective Thompson in her high heels, looking at him with a hint of challenge. “Detective Thompson, I could have done better. I left you so many clues.” She turned and pointed to her bedroom. “Break open the closet. He’s in there.” Then she held out her hands, waiting to be handcuffed. I don’t know what she was thinking, going with us to the station so calmly, but she refused to discuss her motives. When we found Ryan, he had been tortured beyond recognition. During my training, I’d looked at many photos of corpses to desensitize myself – bodies bloated from water, dismembered bodies, all kinds of gruesome deaths… But seeing Ryan, I still felt nauseous and nearly vomited.
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