FINALE FIREWORKS (I)
His throat raw from talking, Marcus Shaw stepped out to refill his water and brought a cup back for Vera Magnus as well.
She had barely set down the enamel mug when he said, "By the way, that hacker you hired—impressive skills. Even our tech unit was bowled over. I checked your laptop. If I hadn't caught on when I did, every move I made and every lead I pursued on WeChat would have been visible to you."
Vera Magnus picked at a stain on the interrogation chair with her fingernail.
"You said you didn't have much money. How did you convince them to take the job?"
"The price they quoted was enormous. I gave them everything I'd earned and saved, and it still came to less than a tenth of what they asked."
Marcus Shaw was quiet for a moment. "Was it worth it?"
Vera Magnus pressed her lips together. "Worth it or not—what does it matter? It's just me. What good is money?"
Marcus Shaw remembered she'd said something similar before.
"So why did they agree? Were they moved by your revenge story?"
"Hardly. I think he's the type—what's the term?—antisocial personality. Antisocial. And people like that, the tech ones, they love a challenge. I told him what I wanted to achieve, which was like setting him a goal. And I played it cool, acted like I didn't think he could pull it off. That made him even more determined to prove himself. He bent over backwards to make it happen."
"Would you be willing to cooperate, earn credit, help us catch him?"
"No."
Marcus Shaw nodded. "Just asking. Thought there might be a miracle."
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Vera Magnus said, "I don't even know where he is. If your tech people can't find him, I certainly don't have the skills."
"Fair point."
She lifted the mug and took another sip. Marcus Shaw drank a couple of mouthfuls from his own cup.
Zack needed the bathroom, so Marcus Shaw pulled the keyboard over and began typing the transcript himself.
The moment Zack left the room, Vera Magnus said, "Aren't you going to ask how I knew about you and your colleague?"
Marcus Shaw smiled. "Like you said—people don't voluntarily bring up things that shame them. I'm no exception, I'm just an ordinary person. If someone wants to know something badly enough, they'll find a way. And at this point, however you learned it—I don't really need to know."
Vera Magnus pressed her lips together. "Tongue twister?"
They looked at each other and both smiled.
"Marcus Shaw, I have to say, you're not much of a man. Married, and still carrying a torch for another woman?"
He started to protest, then decided against it. "I humbly accept your criticism. But I've turned over a new leaf. I love my wife now. And speaking of which—I have you to thank, in a twisted way. Your direct and indirect attacks, one after another, pushed my family and me closer together. You schemed and calculated, trying to drive us into an emotional abyss, but you never accounted for the trust that exists between real family members—a trust that can weather anything. My home is harmonious now. And I'm going to be a father."
Vera Magnus stared at his face, momentarily lost. After a long while she said, "Yes. A harmonious family. I once had a chance at that too."
"Sean Mercer treated you well?"
"After my adoptive father died, I started tagging along with the construction crew, cooking and washing clothes for them. A bunch of men, and me—the only woman."
She sighed, then continued: "Until one day Sean announced, 'This woman is mine from now on. If anyone else touches her, I'll kill him.'"
She paused, wiping her eyes twice with the back of her hand.
"He actually got into fights with several of them, defending me with everything he had, getting hurt without even seeming to feel it. Aside from my adoptive father, he was the only one who was genuinely good to me."
"Then why did he let his brother touch you?"
The question struck like a slap. Her face went red instantly. She turned her head away and said nothing.
"I went to your old construction site. Your former coworkers told me."
The room was quiet for a long time before she turned back. "The two of them were close. Sean didn't mind, so I didn't mind either. We were family."
Something heavy plopped inside Marcus Shaw's chest, like an overripe papaya dropping into still water. His father often used that same word.
"We're still family, no matter what."
"If they didn't think I was dirty, then I was happy to be their shared woman..." She paused, staring without blinking, her expression like someone gazing at a beautiful landscape. Speaking as if to herself, she said, "Shane liked to lie on top of me and tell me jokes. He knew I loved jokes. I still remember the year the two brothers threw me a birthday party—I didn't even know when my real birthday was. But I always remembered: the day Sean said I was his, May twenty-eighth. I made that my birthday."
She paused.
"On my birthday, the three of us sneaked away from the construction site. They pulled me along, running down the street, into a store that looked terribly expensive. They insisted I try on clothes. I looked at the price tags—several hundred yuan—and got scared to even touch them, afraid I'd dirty them with my hands. I tried to leave, but they wouldn't let me. They said I had nothing decent to wear and wanted to give me a present. I had no choice, so I picked the cheapest top in the shop—one hundred and twenty-five yuan. After we paid, I dragged them both and ran. They took me to KFC and ordered a birthday cake. They had the staff light candles and sing the birthday song. The cake was delicious. The burgers were delicious. It was the best meal of my entire life. After we ate, the three of us wandered the streets aimlessly. I had nowhere I wanted to go, but my heart was so full—I would have followed them anywhere. Around midnight, they pulled out some fireworks they must have stashed earlier and took me to the Yitong Riverbank to set them off. Red, green, blue, yellow—every color you could imagine. They'd burst open and swim like fish, wiggling their tails, then vanish somewhere in the dark. It reminded me of celebrating New Year as a child, when my adoptive father and I would stand at the window, huffing breath onto the glass, melting the frost with our palms, watching people outside set off fireworks and firecrackers until it sounded like they were trying to blast a hole in the sky. We set off fireworks at the riverbank for over half an hour. It was so beautiful—too beautiful to take in, like my eyes weren't enough. Then someone reported us. The firefighters came and fined us five hundred yuan. I was heartsick over the money. But they just said, 'As long as you're happy, it was worth every cent.'"
Marcus Shaw had long since let his hands fall from the keyboard. He leaned back in his chair and listened without interruption. He thought of Danny as a child, holding a sparkler, not gripping it properly, and burning a hole in his new cotton shoes—howling with grief. Marcus Shaw had given his own new shoes to his brother. They were too big, so he stuffed in an extra felt insole.
Vera Magnus's gaze was still distant, her voice soft as she went on. "Sean said that once Shane graduated and got a proper job, once we'd saved enough to get a place of our own, he'd marry me. We'd go to the civil affairs bureau and make it official. A family of three, living a decent life. He said, 'Just wait a little longer. It'll be soon. Just hang on.' But then Shane was lured away, stopped studying, went to work for that rotten company, and got himself killed. And Sean—his condition flared up because of it all, and he died on the construction site."
She wiped her eyes again.
"At that moment, I knew. My good days were over forever. There would never be anyone else who loved me like that. The day Shane died, Sean and I went to claim his body. This grown man cried like a child. He held Shane's body and tried to board a train, saying he was taking him home, burying him in the ancestral soil. They stopped him before he could enter the station—forced cremation. The instant they pushed Shane through, Sean nearly collapsed. The first time, Sean and I carried Shane's ashes home together. The second time, it was just me, alone, carrying Sean's ashes home. I buried the two of them side by side. I went back to visit them often, sat with them, told them about the new jokes I'd read—though most weren't actually that funny. I told them my plan. The incense burned straight as arrows. Both of them approved. They told me to avenge them. I said, 'Don't worry, I'm almost done. Three down, two to go. When you two can close your eyes in peace, I'll come join you.'"
Marcus Shaw let out a loud sigh, picked up his cup, drank a swallow, and set it down with a distinct clink.
Vera Magnus seemed to surface from her memories. She wiped away the tear clinging to the tip of her nose and said, "You really are heartless. Is that what all you police are like?"
Marcus Shaw rested his chin on his hand. "Not entirely. If I hadn't known the truth, I might have been moved by the... bond between you and the brothers. Unfortunately, I found this in the work shed where you used to live."
He reached into his file bag, pulled something out, and tossed it to her.
It was a small notebook, brown leather cover.
Vera Magnus looked at it, uncomprehending.