Chapter 125: Questioning by the Political Department

Ma Yishou was famously prone to arriving late.

It was one of the “privileges” of a Chief Inspector or Deputy Chief Inspector.

However, when Jin Kemu had been Chief Inspector, he had rarely been late.

Even after becoming Deputy Chief Inspector, he generally arrived on time.

Only Ma Yishou remained unwaveringly consistent.

Ever since becoming Deputy Chief Inspector, it was rare for him not to be late.

As Old Ma liked to say, now that I’m an official, there ought to be some difference between me and you bastards.

Holding a greaseproof paper packet of pan-fried buns in one hand, Ma Yishou walked and ate at the same time.

Using three fingers, he pinched out two buns and stuffed them into his mouth.

His face shone with oil as he ate, displaying an expression of pure enjoyment and satisfaction.

Some Third Patrol officers standing by the window saw how deliciously Old Ma was eating.

Even though they had already eaten breakfast, they could not help swallowing their saliva.

“Watching Old Ma eat really whets the appetite.”

“Well, setting everything else aside, Old Ma certainly has a healthy appetite.”

“Good appetite, good health.” Big-Head Lu joked. “With a body like Old Ma’s, he could marry three more concubines and still handle it.”

The officers were all in good spirits.

The Miyamoto Saburo case had been taken over by the Political Department.

From Ma Yishou downward, everyone in the Third Patrol felt as though dark clouds had cleared from above their heads, revealing blue skies.

“Which bastard was that?” Ma Yishou suddenly shouted in anger.

Everyone clicked their tongues in amazement.

A basketball had come flying diagonally toward him.

Old Ma executed a beautiful backbend, barely avoiding the incoming ball.

Then he straightened up again and still had enough breath to curse loudly.

That old waist of his was really something.

“Ma Tou’s back is acting up again?” Cheng Qianfan asked with an expression of surprise.

“That’s right.” Jin Kemu sighed. “Old Ma’s back has always been troublesome. So you’ll have to shoulder more of the Third Patrol’s workload while you’re young.”

Cheng Qianfan understood exactly what Jin Kemu meant.

This was support for allowing him, as Deputy Chief Inspector, to take effective control of the Third Patrol’s authority.

“Chief Jin’s kindness leaves me overwhelmed with gratitude.” Cheng Qianfan put on a delighted and grateful expression and made as if to stand and salute.

“Sit, sit, sit.” Jin Kemu smiled broadly. “There’s no need for formalities between uncle and nephew. I’ve always regarded you the same way I regard He Guan.”

“Thank you, Uncle Jin,” Cheng Qianfan said emotionally.

“Qianfan, someone from the Political Department will come ask you a few questions shortly,” Jin Kemu said with a smile.

“Someone from the Political Department?” Cheng Qianfan asked in surprise.

“Mhm. Just answer whatever they ask. It’s nothing serious, merely routine questioning.” Jin Kemu gave Cheng Qianfan a meaningful look.

“Yes, Chief Jin.” Cheng Qianfan’s expression became serious.

Idiot.

He cursed inwardly.

Strictly speaking, He Guan had caused him trouble.

It was not that he objected to He Guan killing a Japanese man.

The more Japanese invaders died, the better.

The problem was that He Guan had handled the matter far too crudely.

If it had been Cheng Qianfan, he could think of at least a dozen ways to kill Miyamoto Saburo without anyone noticing.

Knock knock knock.

A knock sounded at the door of Jin Kemu’s office.

Cheng Qianfan immediately rose from his seat and quickly straightened his police uniform.

His eyes lowered respectfully, presenting the appearance of a subordinate attentively receiving instructions from Deputy Chief Inspector Jin.

Jin Kemu also adopted a serious expression and cleared his throat.

“Come in.”

A young Western man entered.

Behind him followed a Chinese detective.

The Chinese detective flashed Jin Kemu an awkward smile.

The young foreigner stood nearly 190 cm (about 6 ft 3 in) tall, with a powerful build and broad frame.

Standing in the doorway, he blocked the sunlight streaming in from the corridor window.

“Hello, Lieutenant Pete,” Jin Kemu greeted him.

Pete, Deputy Head of the Political Department’s Investigation Unit, a retired French Army lieutenant.

“Hello, Jin. I hear Cheng is here. I ask him some questions.” Pete’s Chinese pronunciation was somewhat unclear.

Still, it was already quite impressive.

After all, among the Europeans and Americans in the concessions, especially the French, who considered themselves number one in Europe, and the British, who considered themselves number one in the world, most looked down upon China and rarely bothered learning Chinese.

“Be my guest.”

Pete shrugged, unconcerned by Jin Kemu’s cool attitude.

He knew he was investigating Jin Kemu’s nephew.

Such a reaction was only natural.

“Cheng, please come with me,” Pete said coldly.

Cheng Qianfan said nothing.

He seemed somewhat startled by the seriousness of the situation and glanced at Jin Kemu.

Jin Kemu merely returned a stern look.

Pete led Cheng Qianfan down the corridor and up a flight of stairs before arriving at an office on the left side of the third floor.

“You, get out.”

Pete pointed at his Chinese subordinate.

“Don’t let anyone eavesdrop.”

Once the man had gone out, closing the door behind him, and his footsteps had retreated several paces,

Pete burst into laughter.

Wearing an equally broad smile, Cheng Qianfan embraced him.

“Hahaha! Qianfan, my friend! Didn’t expect this, did you? Pete is back! The handsome and dashing Pete has returned! The scenery of the Far East has become even more beautiful because of my return!”

“When did you come back? I thought once you returned to France, you wouldn’t come back again.”

The two men conversed in French.

“I returned last week. Uncle Xi Neng said you’d gone to Hangzhou. What a pity. The fresh foie gras I brought back from France was wasted on you.”

“You think I’d believe that?” Cheng Qianfan exposed the lie mercilessly. “Let me calculate. You boarded at Marseille and crossed half the world by sea. The foie gras would have gone rotten halfway through the journey.”

“You’re still as lacking in a sense of humour as ever, my friend.” Pete shook his head.

“And your new wife?” Cheng Qianfan asked.

He put on an exaggerated expression.

“You didn’t leave your newlywed wife behind and come back alone, did you? Be careful, or the next time you return to France you’ll discover several extra children.”

“Oh, your terrible sense of humour.” Pete glared at him. “Linda is a good girl. I trust her.”

“She came to Shanghai with me.”

“One of these days I’ll host a dinner for the two of you,” Cheng Qianfan said.

“Now that’s more like it.”

After exchanging pleasantries and catching up, Pete’s expression became slightly more serious.

“Officer Cheng Qianfan, I have a question to ask on behalf of the Political Department.”

“Please go ahead.”

“At approximately two o’clock yesterday afternoon, was Officer He Guan at your residence with you?”

“Yes.” Cheng Qianfan nodded.

“Are you certain?” Pete asked.

“I believe so.” Cheng Qianfan adopted a thoughtful expression. “When He Guan left, it should not yet have been three o’clock. Someone saw him when he left. That person can confirm it.”

Then he looked at Pete in surprise.

“Did something happen?”

Upon hearing that there was an additional witness, Pete appeared visibly relieved.

“An ugly little Japanese dwarf was killed. Officer He Guan appeared near the crime scene, so we’re conducting routine inquiries.”

Seeing Cheng Qianfan’s concerned expression, he smiled.

“Don’t worry. I know He Guan is your friend. His suspicion has now been cleared.”

“Pete, thank you,” Cheng Qianfan said.

From Pete’s attitude, he could determine the position of both the police station and perhaps even the authorities of the French Concession:

The murder of Miyamoto Saburo absolutely could not be linked to any police officer of the station.

With Cheng Qianfan’s testimony, especially the existence of an ordinary civilian witness, He Guan now possessed an alibi.

The authorities of the French Concession could finally breathe easy.

This would “perfectly” clear He Guan of suspicion.

He could even infer further that the official announcement would likely conceal Cheng Qianfan’s role as a witness.

Instead, it would focus solely on the testimony of the ordinary citizen who had seen He Guan at Cheng Qianfan’s home during the relevant period.

Such testimony would carry the greatest weight.

After the official questioning concluded, Pete and Cheng Qianfan continued chatting for a while.

“My friend, I brought back some good things from France.” Pete waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Cheng Qianfan.

A delighted expression appeared on Cheng Qianfan’s face.

In truth, he felt even more excited and pleased than he allowed himself to show.

“Where are they? What good merchandise did you bring this time?” he asked in a low voice, unable to wait.