Chapter 9: Investigating the Big Client (Part 2)
I told Boss Drake the whole story about Tai Sun, and after listening, he sighed: "Once people have money, they really can't trust anyone. If Boss Li really was my big client, he was about to flee the country with his wealth—and yet he ended up dying in a fire!"
I said, "In that case, Tai Sun's betrayal was justified! Victor Li entrusted so much to him, but he was secretly preparing to smuggle himself out. Tai Sun was just a scapegoat!"
Boss Drake asked: "You said Tai Sun was planning to smuggle himself abroad?"
"Yes."
"After Victor Li died, the big client kept communicating with us. But even though he'd already paid, he still refused to meet in person. That suggests it's probably Tai Sun impersonating his old boss."
I said: "If Victor Li was really about to flee the country, and Tai Sun chose that exact moment to strike, isn't that too convenient? Maybe the gold zodiac was just an excuse. Tai Sun hid the asset transfer from Nora Zhao and wanted the biggest prize for himself. He knew that if he didn't act before Victor Li escaped, he'd never have another chance. But I can't figure out how he found out about something so secret. Victor Li wouldn't have told him—no matter who knew, it shouldn't have been Tai Sun!"
"Why not?"
"Because Tai Sun was taking the fall for so many of Victor Li's crimes. Once Victor Li fled, every illegal act would land squarely on Tai Sun's head. Why would Victor Li ever let him know he was running?"
"Oh, I can answer that one," Boss Drake said mildly. "The asset transfer was also done under Tai Sun's name—that's how I traced it back to Victor Li. If Tai Sun had been suspicious enough to investigate in the other direction, he might have found me."
I said, "So it sounds like Victor Li had no one else he could trust. When the walls crumble, everyone scatters. Boss Drake, I'm no use to you anymore. Are you going to kill me and add another body to your count?"
"You're still useful. We can't confirm the big client's identity yet—it's too risky to decide my fate based on a single recording. I need absolute certainty."
"How are you going to confirm it?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sealed bag containing several cigarette butts.
"These were left in my private tea room. Only I have access—not even the cleaners go in, so they've been preserved..." Boss Drake explained. "After I discovered the client might be Victor Li, I immediately sent someone to search the tea room for evidence. The intermediary only smokes Liqun cigarettes. These Su cigarettes must have come from the big client. I can extract DNA from the butts."
I said, "But you still can't prove this is Victor Li. You don't have his DNA on file!"
"I don't. But I can get it."
"How? His apartment was completely gutted by fire."
"Little brother, where do you think we are right now?"
He grabbed me and hauled me out of the trunk.
I stumbled onto solid ground. All around us was desolate mountain terrain, but at the top of the far slope stood a large building, its sign clearly visible.
A crematorium.
He said softly: "You've seen Victor Li's body... haven't you?"
I swallowed. "What are you planning to do?"
"Let me be reasonable—the police these days are so unreasonable. They won't let corpse photos circulate, claiming it's to 'clean up the internet' and 'protect the victim's family.' As if we want to do something bad! We just want to see what the body looks like, and maybe steal it on the side. Is that really such a heinous crime?"
I muttered: "Some photos are still out there..."
"They're pixelated."
"I have unblurred photos on my phone. I can show you."
He put his hand on my shoulder. "It's too late for photos now. The body's inside a coffin. Who can see it?"
I swallowed again. "Even if you haven't seen the body, you could've looked at the memorial portrait and the name of the deceased. You talked so much just because you didn't want to go yourself."
"You cost me a whole case of gold bars. Shouldn't you be the one to go? I've arranged help, but this is my first time working with them. I need absolute certainty—how can I send my own men with someone I've never worked with before?"
"I refuse... Stealing a corpse is a crime."
"Look at this before you decide."
Boss Drake played a video on his phone. The screen showed my rental apartment.
A cold voice came through the speaker: "Boss Drake, I've located the target. One word from you and they're dead."
Boss Drake asked with evident interest: "How quickly can you do it?"
"The old woman is disabled, and the young one looks fragile. I can barricade the door and smash a window, set the place on fire, and have them both dead in under five minutes."
"How can you be sure they won't escape through the windows?"
"The other side of the windows has security bars. They're welded shut."
"Wait for my signal."
Boss Drake hung up. His normally icy expression shifted into a smile that chilled me to the bone.
He turned and gestured to his men.
They produced a knife and a large pair of bolt cutters. The knife severed the ropes around my legs, and the bolt cutters snipped through my handcuffs.
Boss Drake patted my shoulder. "You can run if you want. You can even call the police. But I can kill your wife and your mother in five minutes. Even the fastest cops can't fly."
"You bastard!"
I threw a punch at him, but he sidestepped smoothly and drove a fist into my gut.
I dropped to my knees, retching bile.
"Don't let my build fool you—I earned this wealth and this position fighting in the streets. When you get up the mountain, look for a hearse with license plate ending in 352. Tell them you're with me."
Boss Drake glanced at me, then climbed back into his car.
I forced myself to my feet, staring after him with pure hatred.
I had no other choice.
I swallowed the pain and started up the mountain road, my heart pounding.
Mom...
Elena...
I refused to let disaster fall on anyone else.
Boss Drake hadn't even taken my phone. I could call the police right now—but as he'd said, cops weren't 24-hour bodyguards stationed beside Elena and my mother. There would always be gaps.
I made my way to the top of the mountain. The crematorium loomed ahead. A hearse was parked by the roadside—license plate ending in 352.
I knocked on the window. The doors unlocked—a signal to get in.
Inside were two men. One had a neck tattoo, and the other wore a cap.
The cap guy turned to me and said: "Who sent you?"
"Monkey Drake. What do you need me to do?"
"Listen carefully. Boss Li was a wealthy man—even in death, he's getting buried rather than cremated. They're only bringing him here today for the embalmer and to purchase supplies. After the mourners pay their respects, the coffin gets sealed."
"How do you know all this? And how did you get a hearse so fast?"
"Because we really are the pallbearers for Boss Li. Professional funeral services."
"But you do this kind of thing?"
"Five thousand for a funeral, two hundred thousand for a corpse. Would you do it?"
"No."
"You want to act like you have morals?"
I looked out the window at the crowds outside the crematorium.
I said, "It's too dangerous. How am I supposed to carry a body out in front of all those people?"
"We're not asking you to carry it out now."
"Then what do you—"
"Get in the coffin!"
My eyes went wide. The tattooed man handed me a small toolkit: "Take this. There's an oxygen canister and some tools inside. Once the coffin's on the hearse, we'll remove the nails. You bring the body out and find a way to escape."
I said dumbly: "Can't we just dig up the grave after the burial?"
"No. Boss Li's funeral lasts three days."
"Must be nice being rich..."
"Get in."
They pointed to the coffin in the back. It was empty. I climbed in.
Soon I felt myself being lifted—they were carrying me into the funeral hall.
After a while, the coffin lid was pushed open.
I was in a bare room. The cap guy said: "Boss Li's body is about to be placed inside. You must stay perfectly still, no matter what. Clear?"
"Understood."
They began arranging burial goods around me—fresh flowers, copper coins, paper money, paper gold ingots—piling them over my body.
Then they covered me with a cloth, and I felt more items placed on top.
I barely dared to breathe, lying perfectly still and waiting.
The room gradually filled with noise—voices and sobs mixing together.
Then I felt something large and heavy settle on top of me, accompanied by a sickening stench that nearly made me gag.
That must be Victor Li's body.
Somber music played over speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we gather today with heavy hearts to remember Mr. Victor Li. As each of you pays your respects, please place a flower. Let us keep individual tributes brief so we may stay on schedule. Mr. Victor Li's eldest son, Howard Li, will now deliver the eulogy."
I lay there listening to the wailing outside, growing increasingly anxious—if only because I was struggling to breathe.
Finally, Howard Li's voice rang out.
"Thank you all for attending my father's funeral. My father... he was a good man..."
Right. He was a good man who preyed on others.
"He obeyed the law and was kind-hearted..."
Right. He built stalled condos, exploited people, and planned to flee the country.
"Yet he passed away prematurely at the age of fifty-two..."
Right. Good riddance.
I waited forever until they finally sealed the coffin.
As the nails went in, the first thing I did was push Victor Li's body off me—heavy and suffocating, with his legs tangled over mine.
A burned corpse isn't actually that heavy, but even so, being trapped under one for any length of time was unbearable.
Once the coffin was sealed, the air quickly grew thin.
I used the oxygen canister, and breathing became easier. I turned on my flashlight and prepared to extract what I needed.
Stealing an entire corpse in broad daylight was impossible.
But Victor Li's body had one unique feature...
I examined his hand. Sure enough—the severed finger had been stitched back on.
Trying not to retch, I took the scissors from the toolkit and carefully snipped the sutures.
The finger came free as the last thread was cut.
Evidence, secured!