Chapter 6: Black Moses (1)
After that conversation with Zhou Mi, I returned to the hospital and spent over a week of relative calm.
Although the wound on my throat had reopened, earning me a scolding from the nurse, perhaps because Captain Zhou had put in a word, my psychiatric status was reassessed.
They hardly made me wear the restraint jacket anymore.
I could come and go from the ward as I pleased. I liked to drape a jacket over my shoulders, walk slowly to the stairwell window, and bask in the sun and wind.
Outside the window stood a grove of tall Italian poplars, their leaves turned golden in late autumn. When the wind blew, the thick foliage clapped together with a rustling, clattering sound.
Like a flock of chattering children. Quite entertaining.
Pigeons from nearby homes flew past at the same hour every morning, their clear cooing and the trill of leg-bells ringing. Their thin, bright wings swept past the eaves with a freedom that seemed entirely indifferent to whether humans lived or died. I could stand there and watch for a long time.
One morning, I leaned out to look at a pigeon perched on a treetop. Behind me, the caretaker called out—she'd brought my meal, set it on the table, telling me to come eat.
I answered and strolled back to the ward.
I picked up the disposable lunch box. Underneath was a folded piece of white paper.
I assumed it was medical instructions. While breaking apart my chopsticks, I unfolded the note and read—
"Elyse, meet me at the intersection of Wu Yuan Road in ten minutes. You won't want to call the police. You You is in my hands. —Shane."
The lunch box clattered to the floor.
My first instinct was to tell the police—but I realized I didn't have a phone. Sylvie's phone had been confiscated by the intelligence operatives.
I gripped the edge of the desk and pulled myself up, fingertips going numb with terror. I shook my hand, the note went flying, but I was already stumbling out of the ward.
My heart was frantic and cold.
A fierce cross-breeze hit me from the stairwell. I looked around blankly, wanting to borrow a phone from the caretaker.
No one in sight.
A nurse hurried past. I opened my mouth, only to realize I didn't know any of Zhou Mi's numbers.
Standing in the ward doorway for about half a minute, I finally got my breath under control.
I started walking, step by step, toward the elevator.
Wu Yuan Road was actually just a few minutes' walk from the hospital's back gate. Last time, Captain Zhou and I had eaten rice noodles at a place nearby—there was a night market, very lively.
That was where I'd glimpsed, hazily, a Burmese man from Little Golden Port.
Almost there. Suddenly, a hand reached out from a side alley and grabbed me like an iron claw, yanking me into the gap between two buildings.
I gasped and looked up. A dark-skinned, half-smiling Burmese face.
Sure enough, not a hallucination.
"Elyse," he said in heavily accented Mandarin, the name falling from his lips with teasing casualness. "Mr. Shane has something to say to you."
A phone was pressed to my ear, the call already in progress—
"Elyse."
I started trembling violently, unable to stop myself from bending forward. The Burmese man gripped my jaw, forcing me to hear the voice on the phone clearly:
"Give me back my five hundred thousand dollars. Otherwise, your sister will pay for it."
I replied softly: "Shane, do you think I care about my stepmother's child?"
The voice on the other end seemed to chuckle, entirely unconcerned: "You might not like You You, but you definitely don't want her to die because of you. Elyse, I know you very well. Your heart is softer than anyone's."
I bowed my head, nearly collapsing to the ground.
"The money—I'll give it. Don't touch her."
"Don't be hasty, Elyse. I'm not done yet." The demon's voice drilled into my eardrum, word by word through the speaker: "You'll be receiving a big gift from me soon. And when that happens—"
"You'll come back to Myanmar on your own. You'll come back to me."
"And then—we'll settle the score properly."
My brain was screaming. I couldn't take it anymore—I slapped the phone away and stumbled out of the alley, crashing into several people.
My wound caught on something. I doubled over, gripping the roadside railings. When I looked back, my vision swimming—the Burmese man was already gone. Under the shadow of the buildings, nothing but empty air.
Amid the gasps of concerned pedestrians, I couldn't catch my breath. I slumped against the cold railing and blacked out.
2.
For yet another joint interrogation session, Elyse was wheeled in, restrained in the wheelchair.
Zhou Mi could see at a glance that she was shaking.
Another trauma response.
He lowered his eyes and made a note of it in the intelligence division's steno pad, writing it down carefully.
This time there were many observers. Besides the leadership, ten or so staff filed in, finding their seats, some conferring in very low voices.
From across the table, Elyse was visibly agitated. She seemed to loathe the direct light, her head in constant motion.
Zhou Mi spoke first to calm her: "Elyse, take it easy. The restraints are only to prevent you from harming yourself again. They'll be removed as soon as we're done, alright?"
But she seemed even more distressed, her shoulders rocking back and forth.
Captain Zhang dove straight into the topic—
"Elyse, do you know about Black Moses?"
Everyone noticed the person in the wheelchair stiffen suddenly. She raised her head, turned her gaze very slowly toward Director Lin at the diagonal, then shifted it equally slowly to Captain Zhou.
Zhou Mi felt the light in her eyes go out, just like that.
This time Captain Zhang led the questioning. His style was actually very aggressive—completely at odds with his genial appearance. In the oppressive stillness, his offensive was relentless, listing Elyse's, Sylvie's, and Black Moses's entanglements in a condemnatory tone.
"You claim Winter Lee mentioned this organization to you, and that she may have been exposed because she was investigating Black Moses, even dying because of it. Elyse, you concealed such critical information—what exactly was your purpose?"
Elyse hunched in the wheelchair like an empty shell, drained of color.
She said nothing.
Captain Zhang pressed on: "From the start, your lies have been numerous. You concealed Winter Lee's death, maliciously deleted intelligence files from the phone, Duan Po was looking for you but you claim you're barely acquainted. And now this so-called Black Moses organization—Elyse—"
His voice was hard and cold, slashing at the meager shreds of dignity she had left.
"Isn't it more likely that there is no Black Moses at all, that there's only you? That you're the one from the Charlie Group, that you orchestrated everything—killing Winter Lee, controlling Wu Xiaochuan, that you fabricated your entire experience in Myanmar!"
The accusation hit the floor and shattered. Silence.
After a long moment, Elyse stirred slightly and spoke her first words since entering the room, very softly: "Why would I do that?"
Captain Zhang's expression didn't change. He tapped his pen on the desk in a measured rhythm—thock, thock, thock.
"That's for you to tell us. Cultivating spies abroad and sending them back is nothing new. Aside from your own one-sided account, nobody knows what you were actually doing in Myanmar for the past year."
Elyse scoffed without warning: "You think I'm a spy?"
Captain Zhang shot back: "Are you?"
Elyse raised her eyes, and her gaze was razor-sharp: "Are you?"
A crack—Captain Zhang hurled his pen at the desk. Ink splattered in a black, violent bloom.
Elyse didn't flinch. She stared down the people across the table: "Do you have evidence that I am? Do you have evidence that you aren't?"
She laughed.
The laugh was laced with blood.
Captain Zhang leaned back and said evenly: "Evidence. I have some."
Elyse froze.
"At 11:30 AM on December 19th, who did you meet on Wu Yuan Road?"
Her face drained of color, inch by inch.
Captain Zhang pressed ruthlessly: "A man from Northern Myanmar, from Little Golden Port, a member of the Charlie Group. What did he say to you?"
Elyse closed her eyes and said woodenly: "He said my sister was in his hands."
A staff member to the side confirmed: "Your sister, You You, is currently attending Yining No. 2 High School in K Province. She's been commuting between school and home all this time and hasn't left the city."
Captain Zhang continued: "Based on our understanding, you have no deep affection for this half-sister. Your relationship isn't even good. Elyse, at least come up with a better excuse."
Elyse had no response.
"Even if your mouth is full of lies, some things tell the truth."
Captain Zhang threw a sheaf of documents onto the table. Elyse looked up—it was a bank statement.
"Why don't you tell us what the two hundred thousand deposited into your account on December 7th and December 10th is all about?"
He flipped through the pages, mocking: "Transferred from overseas, no less."
Elyse seemed on the verge of collapse, her voice trembling: "First, I had no knowledge of anyone transferring money into my account. My ID and bank cards were lost in Myanmar and haven't been replaced. Second, I haven't spent a single cent of it. You can't prove this money is illegal income. This is a frame-up, and I refuse to take responsibility for it."
Captain Zhang let out an exasperated laugh: "Nothing to do with you at all, right? Fine."
Elyse shook her head, her lips quivering: "I have no reason to do these things."