GOALS ACHIEVED
Marcus Shaw had a female officer escort Vera Magnus to the bathroom. He retreated to his office and drank a few mouthfuls of water.
He was about to return to the interrogation room when Captain Harris rushed in, clutching some documents. Seeing Marcus Shaw, he said, "Perfect timing. Intelligence just came through from the technical investigation unit. They traced the operation records and identified the person who forged Dominic Hale's identity—a household registration officer at a police station in Shuangyang District. He's in custody and has been interrogated. Not only did he take Dominic Hale's money, they're actually distant relatives."
Marcus Shaw took the documents and reviewed them, feeling a weight lift from his chest. "I was worried Dominic Hale had a high-level mole inside our ranks. Looks like I overthought it. Thank God it was just a local registration cop. If he'd managed to buy off someone in leadership, the damage would have been far worse."
Captain Harris's face hardened. "Regardless of who it is, anyone who provides cover for criminals is a traitor. No matter their rank, I'll chase them to the ends of the earth."
Marcus Shaw nodded. Looking at Captain Harris's chiseled face—carved like a blade—he suddenly remembered his conversation with Captain Reed. At the time he'd thought Reed was timid, even suspected him of hiding something. Now he understood: a lifetime in criminal investigation, Reed had never given up, never feared anyone.
That look of concern in his eyes—that had been worry. Worry for Marcus Shaw.
Only now did he realize, too late. No chance left to apologize.
The thought opened something inside him—a wellspring of emotion—and then Captain Harris's hand clapped down on his shoulder, jolting him like a pan flipped mid-toss. The simmering feeling settled, the flame went out, and something inside him was finally fully cooked.
Captain Harris seemed to read his mind. He kept his hand on Marcus Shaw's shoulder and said, "When we're done interrogating Vera Magnus and the Dominic Hale case is closed, you and I will pick up a couple tins of Huangshan Maojian and go see Captain Reed. Let him share the good news."
Marcus Shaw nodded without speaking.
---
Back in the interrogation room, Vera Magnus was drinking water from an enamel mug. Marcus Shaw strode over and snatched it from her hand—startling Zack as well. But upon closer inspection, it wasn't Captain Reed's usual mug.
Marcus Shaw stood frozen, gripping the handle.
Vera Magnus said, "What, is there a charge for a murderer drinking police water? I didn't ask you to escort me to the bathroom. What are you getting worked up about?"
Marcus Shaw snapped out of it and slammed the mug down on the metal tabletop. Zack explained quickly, "We're out of paper cups. I just grabbed an unused one from the cabinet."
Marcus Shaw said nothing. He sat back down and waited for Vera Magnus to finish her water before continuing. "Next topic: how did you tamper with my car?"
The moment he said it, her face broke into a grin. "That Finn Carter—wherever he popped out of, he was heaven-sent. The moment he showed up, I suddenly had a legitimate excuse to park right outside your precinct. Saved me a lot of trouble. At first I was still figuring out how to use him as a pawn, but then you went and showed compassion, so I just followed your lead."
"After my accident on the highway, I went back and asked him about it. He didn't say a word. He never mentioned he'd seen you. If he had, you would have been exposed months ago."
Vera Magnus laughed. "Naturally. In his eyes, I was a good Samaritan. I even treated him well in front of you, so you'd think well of me too. And since he'd done something shameful to me, but I responded with kindness, naturally he ruled me out as a suspect. More importantly—the good things I did for him—those were things he'd never voluntarily tell anyone. Because talking about them would only expose his own pettiness and shame. A single piece of guilt sealed his lips forever."
Marcus Shaw rested his chin on his hand, studying the woman before him. After a while he said, "His father hasn't had a relapse lately. He asked me to pass on a message: even though you used him, he still wants to thank you. He's working hard, saving money, planning to pay you back everything."
Vera Magnus opened her mouth, closed it, and turned her face away.
"You didn't just try to kill me once. The man who framed me for soliciting prostitution—he's been arrested. You slept with him, fed him sweet talk, pretended you wanted a life together, tried to get him to poison me. But even he wasn't stupid enough to murder a police officer for you. He wouldn't do it."
Vera Magnus gave a cold laugh. "I knew that wretch couldn't be trusted."
"The caltrops you scattered, the flower pots you threw, the storm drain cover near the market cameras—all your little tricks."
"That wasn't all, actually. Plenty of other times too. You were just lucky—never hit, never noticed. For instance, I also poisoned the grilled noodles I made for you."
Marcus Shaw's heart lurched. He remembered the day he interrogated Vince Conrad—later, when Vince Conrad finally agreed to talk, Marcus Shaw had rushed off without touching the noodles. By the time he came back, they'd spoiled, so he'd thrown them away.
And the bowl he'd sent in to Vince Conrad must have been poisoned too. Thank God Vince Conrad hadn't eaten it either.
If Vince Conrad had died on his watch, that would have been another unresolvable mess.
The irony: he'd nearly gotten Vince Conrad killed, and Vince Conrad had unknowingly saved his life.
It took Marcus Shaw a moment to collect himself. "You assumed I'd eat the food—or else I'd discover the poison and you'd have to retreat. So you called the urban management hotline and anonymously reported yourself, giving yourself a legitimate reason to move your stall away from the precinct."
The room fell silent.
Marcus Shaw smiled suddenly. "You went to all that trouble to kill me, but I must have a charmed life."
Vera Magnus said nothing, picking her teeth with the tip of her tongue.
"My father loves ornamental fish. You learned that from my wife as well?"
Vera Magnus raised an eyebrow. "Your wife is a real idiot."
"Watch your mouth."
She smirked. "Oh, so now you're protecting her? Where was that energy before?"
Marcus Shaw glared, his face cycling between red and white.
"So how did you set it up? There aren't many fish that my father would go out of his way for—unless they were extremely rare."
"I searched online. Found someone in another city trying to sell, connected them with the shop your father always visits. Sure enough, they called him right away."
"Then you contacted kidnappers on the dark web, told them my father was an invisible millionaire, gave them his physical description and the approximate time and location, and encouraged them to make a move."
She said nothing, resumed picking at her teeth on the left side.
"But if you were already on the dark web, why not just hire a hitman directly? If the kidnappers had been suspicious, if they'd refused to follow your plan, everything would have fallen apart."
"Hire a killer? You think I didn't want to? I couldn't afford it. I never saved any money from construction—every cent went to Shane's tuition. Otherwise you wouldn't have lasted this long."
"My father was stabbed once. Even though that's not what killed him, but—" He paused. "But you also cost me my partner."
Vera Magnus burst out laughing. "That's right—your second little brother, killed by me too! Hahaha! You must be so devastated. Why not just kill yourself? How do you have the nerve to keep living?"
Marcus Shaw said nothing. Under the table, his hands were clenched on his thighs, knuckles white, veins bulging.
After a long time, he spoke. "I'm in pain. But I'm not reckless enough for that. At least now I've caught you. I can give them the clarity they deserve."
---
"You killed my captain for the same reason you tried to kill me."
Marcus Shaw stared at Vera Magnus and continued: "How did you know my captain and I had argued—that you could frame me for his murder?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Thanks again to your pig teammates, of course."
Marcus Shaw frowned, staring at her for a long time, his mind racing—until he remembered the late-night comfort message Viktor Dunn had sent him, intercepted by the virus on his phone.
He'd already told Viktor Dunn to stop discussing things on WeChat, but in the heat of the moment, the man had forgotten. A single careless slip.
While he was thinking, Vera Magnus added, "Your captain went dancing with his wife every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon. All you had to do was pay attention, and you'd know where someone would be at any given time. You don't know your own captain. You don't know your own wife. You don't pay attention to the people around you. You're a hypocrite with no heart."
Marcus Shaw said nothing. After a pause, he sighed. "I accept your criticism." Then his tone shifted. "So after reading Jinwu's message, you had your inspiration. You quickly designed your plan, and even deliberately tossed my nail clippers into the stairwell. And that large wrench—you lifted it from Finn Carter."
Vera Magnus curled her lip. "That was barely a plan. Thrown together at the last second—I nearly couldn't get away. Call it improvisation."
"How modest."
"Though your little detour to pick up your wife from work—that was an unexpected bonus. It made you look even guiltier. I was genuinely worried you'd have an alibi."
The two of them sat in silence for a while, the only sound the rhythm of Zack's typing.
Marcus Shaw's voice dropped low. "Captain Reed was about to retire. Couldn't you have let him go?"
Vera Magnus smiled. "Why would I care when he retires? He was complicit in the old case too. Failed to fulfill his duty. A useless old thing. I did him a favor by hastening his retirement."
Marcus Shaw scratched the surface of the table. After a long pause, he said, "There was more to the old case than appeared. Dominic Hale slipped through our grasp—that was my failure to dig deep enough. The responsibility is mine. But I want you to understand something: police officers are human. Each of us has limitations. We're not the omniscient detectives from novels who crack a case with a single flash of insight. Investigation means battling people—battling wits and courage. Human beings are cunning, and sometimes we fall into their traps. Shane Mercer's death, for instance—Dominic Hale set that trap from the beginning. All the company's business documents had been altered to look seamless. Suspicious, yes, but no matter how you looked at it, Shane Mercer was the legal representative. I wanted to question him in person, but Dominic Hale moved fast. By the time we found Shane Mercer, he was already dead. Dead men tell no tales. The cold medicine, the fingerprints on the water glass, the pharmacy surveillance footage—all the evidence pointed to suicide. Add in false testimony from accomplices, and the case seemed airtight. The brass wanted it closed fast, everyone was under enormous pressure, and in one sloppy moment, Dominic Hale slipped through. But the primary responsibility is mine. Captain Reed had little to do with it. If you had doubts, or evidence, you could have contacted me. I would have investigated. Why did you have to—"
Vera Magnus twisted in her seat. The chair legs shrieked. She cut him off: "Contact you? What good would that do? You people take bribes and protect each other. Even if you weren't in on it, you're just one policeman—what could you do? Reopen a closed case? I was better off doing it myself. Quicker. Cleaner."
Marcus Shaw exhaled deeply. "It's not as bad as you think. The person who helped Dominic Hale was a distant cousin—a low-level household registration officer. He's been arrested and is being interrogated. There's no conspiracy. The old case was a failure of investigation, plain and simple."
Vera Magnus lowered her head. Her expression was hidden, but her chest heaved.
"Police work is never perfect. No country, no matter how developed, no matter how sound its legal system, can guarantee that every guilty party is caught or that no innocent person is ever convicted. What we can do is minimize those failures, and when we discover mistakes, we do everything in our power to correct them."
Vera Magnus yawned.
Marcus Shaw thought for a moment, then softened his tone. "The truth is, the food poisoning case back then wasn't mishandled either. The people who were punished deserved it. You probably don't care about that—you only cared about Shane Mercer and those who framed him. He was innocent. I've since uncovered the truth, and the evidence chain is solid. Everything that didn't make sense before adds up now. We'll clear his name."
Vera Magnus looked up and smiled. "Clear his name? He's dead. What good does a clear name do?"
Marcus Shaw sighed. "You can't look at it that way. Even though a person is dead, they live on in other people's hearts."
Her eyes reddened. "In my heart, he was always innocent. I never needed any proof."
Marcus Shaw was quiet for a moment, then asked, "You don't have any evidence that he was framed?"
"No. But I know it was those people at the company who destroyed him. You people failed to solve the case, and that's why he was killed." She was flushed, her large eyes bulging with fury.
"But his death wasn't caused by the police. I'm not deflecting blame. Think about it—even if I'd seen through Dominic Hale's scheme and brought him in alongside the others, Shane Mercer would still be dead. We had no chance to intervene. The moment the food poisoning happened, he was transferred out with Dominic Hale, and then he was murdered."
The two of them stared at each other until Vera Magnus moved her lips and turned away.
Several minutes passed before she turned back. "So did you catch Dominic Hale?"
After a pause, Marcus Shaw answered: "I shot him dead."
Vera Magnus smiled—a genuine smile. "Good. That, you did right."
"You copied his clothes and style to make me think he was the one committing all the murders. You wanted me to notice him, to make sure he didn't slip away again."
"He deserved what he got."
Marcus Shaw nodded. "So look at it from another angle. You tried to kill me multiple times and failed. Maybe that failure was the universe giving me a mission—to get this case right, to clear the name of the innocent, to punish the guilty. And I've paid a heavy enough price for my own failures. From that perspective, all your goals have been achieved."