Red Mandarin Dress

hospitals,” Liao said. “They keep all records of all sexually transmitted disease.”
    “It’s too much of a long shot,” Li said. “Before you could go through all the records, he’ll strike again. We only have one week’s time, Inspector Liao. Besides, even in your scenario, he could have sought medical help secretly.”
    “Most sex murderers are sexually impotent,” Yu said. “According to Chen, the murder is a sort of mental orgasm. So the theory of sexually transmitted disease may not hold.”
    “Liao has a point,” Hong said more resolutely. “Out of the three victims, two were engaged in some sort of sex services. That at least suggests a pattern. Often, the victims fit a certain stereotype, which plays an important role in the killer’s sexual fantasies. He may or may not have been hurt by one of these three-accompanying girls, but it is evident that he has a grudge against them.”
    “So what’s your proposal?” Li demanded.
    “I would like to make a suggestion based on Liao’s analysis. If he is going to strike again, it’s probably among those girls. Let’s set up a decoy for him.”
    “There are so many karaoke clubs, nightclubs, and restaurants in the city,” Yu said. “How could you tell from which one he’ll pick his next victim?”
    “I don’t think he would repeat himself.”
    “Please explain.” Li appeared to be interested.
    “After Jasmine, one was an eating girl, one was a singing girl—out of the three-accompanying girls. The next one, logically, would have to be a dancing girl. People are all creatures of habit,” Hong said. “So he locates his victims by frequenting those entertainment spots of the city. They are easy targets, as you just said. But more importantly, he is a man given to symbolism. The red mandarin dress may be just part of it. So he will most likely choose a dancing girl as the next victim in his elaborate scheme.”
    “But to set up a decoy for him may just be like waiting for a rabbit to knock itself out on an old tree, as the proverb goes,” Yu said. “And he is far more dangerous than a rabbit. I talked to Chen; he believes such a psychopath is capable of anything.”
    “Do you have a better idea?” Li turned to Yu, almost fiercely. “Or does your Chief Inspector Chen?”
    “Perhaps the bureau is too small of a temple for someone like Chen,” Liao joined in.
    Yu, surprised by the animosity demonstrated by both Li and Liao, made no response.
    No one made any further objection to Hong’s proposal. No one had a better idea, as Li had put it. So Hong was going to a dance club that afternoon.
    Afterward, Yu considered it necessary to contact Chen. After the headline “Shanghai in Crisis,” he didn’t think that Chen would keep burying his head among books.
    As he picked up the phone, he thought he knew how to guarantee Chen’s full attention.
    “I have to talk to you now, Chief. Let’s meet in front of Bund Park.”
    “Why Bund Park?”
    “The third red mandarin dress victim was found there this morning, close to the Tai Chi Corner on the Bund, just a stone’s throw from the park.”
    “What—the third one was found on the Bund?”
    “You’ll read about it in the newspapers—perhaps along with a reader’s letter, asking, ‘What is our Chief Inspector Chen doing?’ ”
    “I’m on my way, Yu.”

FOURTEEN
    TWENTY MINUTES LATER , YU arrived at the Bund again.
    Checking around, he chose a green bench that faced the park. Sitting there, he could see down into the shrub grove where he had examined the body earlier. A crowd was still lingering there. The shrub grove looked somewhat like the flower bed where the first victim was found, but that might just be a coincidence. He didn’t believe the murderer could have chosen the places to dump the bodies for that reason.
    With the heavy traffic along Zhong Road, it wasn’t practical to cordon off the area. There wasn’t any yellow crime scene tape there, which would have attracted even more people. Nor was it necessary. Any evidence at the scene was long gone.
    It wasn’t long before he saw Chen emerging out of the throng, climbing up the flight of steps. A man taller than most of the people around him, Chen wore a trench coat and was carrying a briefcase. He had a pair of tortoise-rimmed, amber-lensed glasses that accentuated his broad forehead. Perhaps Chen didn’t want people to recognize him, what with reporters still at the scene, looking around for familiar faces.