Our building is equipped with excellent surveillance, yet the couple next door met with a bizarre death.

The police exhausted all means but only found their heads in the refrigerator;

No other parts of their bodies or traces of the murderer were discovered…

01

Early in the morning, as I was feeding my daughter, I heard noises outside, followed shortly by a knock at my door. Upon opening it, I saw two policemen standing there; the door to apartment 1603 next door was open, with many officers going in and out. Near the elevator, a crowd had gathered, including property management staff, security guards, and other neighbors, all appearing very anxious.

“Is there something wrong?” I nervously asked.

The middle-aged policeman pointed to the surveillance camera above my door and said, “There’s a case that needs your cooperation, can you check if this camera is working normally?”

“Of course, I’ll cooperate. This is a backup of my home surveillance; please have a look.”

I hurriedly took out my phone and opened the playback feature of the camera app. After one of the policemen took my phone, the redhead officer continued to stare at me intently and casually asked, “May I come in for a sit?”

I stepped back from the door, allowing him into the living room.

Once inside, he glanced around and finally focused on my daughter. “Your daughter is very cute, how old is she?”

“Eleven months.”

After amusing my daughter for a bit, he suddenly asked, “Is it just you at home? Where’s her mother?”

“She went back to her mother’s home.”

Hearing this, the redhead officer chuckled, “It’s not good for a young couple to have disputes. By the way, what do you do? It’s a weekday and you’re not at work.”

“I’m a freelance writer; I usually work from home, write some articles, and take care of the child. There’s no need for me to go out to work.”

The redhead officer showed a look of envy, “That’s a good job. I wanted to write novels when I was younger, but this job didn’t leave me any time. However, I enjoy reading novels. What genres do you write? What’s your pen name? I’ll check it out sometime.”

“I write everything, mostly mysteries lately. My pen name is ‘Jiutian’.”

The policeman nodded as if noting it down, and after a while, he asked, “How are your relations with your neighbors?”

I did not hide anything and told the truth, “Not very good, otherwise I wouldn’t have installed a camera at my door. That couple is well-known in our community for being unreasonable; they think they’re losing out if they don’t gain something, having such neighbors is just my bad luck.”

After venting, I asked in return, “Is there a big issue happening? Did something happen to them?”

“They were murdered,” the middle-aged policeman said, sizing me up, “How long has your camera been installed?”

I replied, “Almost a year now. When my daughter had colic and was crying at night in February, they banged on my door, claiming she disturbed them, and forced me to move. After arguing and getting slapped a few times, I installed it following a police mediation.”

The redhead officer inquired further, “Was there another conflict after that?”

I said angrily, “How could there not be? I’ve called the police five or six times. But each time, it ended with mediation, and they continued to make trouble, which is why my wife was so upset she returned to her mother’s home.”

The redhead officer raised his eyebrows, “When was the last conflict? What was it about?”

I impatiently said, “I forgot, are you suspecting me, treating me as a suspect?”

He smiled, “Don’t overthink it, just asking casually. Since you write detective novels, you should know that in our line of work, when dealing with a homicide, we definitely need to investigate and collect clues.”

“If that’s what you are here for, you’ve got the wrong person. Although they are my neighbors, I haven’t spoken to them for months. When I go out, it’s also when they are not at home. I don’t know about their affairs, and if you have nothing else, I’m going to put my daughter to sleep.”

Seeing me issuing a leaving order, the redhead officer wasn’t upset, and after calling to his colleague who took my phone to make a backup, he returned the phone to me.

At noon, after feeding my daughter and putting her to sleep, I quietly went out.

Outside, there were still many policemen busy at 1603, and I approached a neighbor at 1602 and whispered, “Charles, what’s happening? Our community was peaceful, why is there a murder case now?”

02

Charles, known for being well-informed within our community, had been watching the commotion all morning and knew much more than I did. Upon my inquiry, he immediately started chatting, “Who knows who the Davis couple offended. Whoever did it was ruthless. I heard from the police that aside from finding their heads in the fridge, they didn’t find anything else. It’s unclear where the murderer hid the rest of their bodies.”

I expressed my confusion, “That shouldn’t be right; our community is fully equipped with surveillance, cameras are everywhere from the elevators to the fire escapes and green belts. How could such large bodies just disappear into thin air?”

Charles immediately lowered his voice, speaking mysteriously, “That’s why they say the murderer is cunning. I heard from security that the police have checked all the surveillance footage from the community, and there’s been no one going to their house recently. Now the police suspect that it was someone from our floor who committed the crime, and that they might have chopped up the Davis couple and flushed them down the toilet. They’re planning to pump the septic tank soon.”

After Charles said this, he suddenly slapped his thigh, “Look at my memory; they definitely have to turn off the water when they pump the septic tank. I’m going back home to store some water. Your child is still young, you should prepare some water too, no idea how many days they’ll stop it for.”

Seeing Charles hurriedly running back home, I also turned and walked back inside my house.

Before I could enter, I was stopped by the same middle-aged policeman from this morning, “Luca, wait a moment.”

The redhead policeman directly called out my name, likely having already investigated my personal information.

I stood at the door, giving him a puzzled look.

The redhead officer took out his ID, smiling, “I was in a hurry this morning and forgot to introduce myself. I’m Martin from the criminal investigation team, the person in charge of this case.”

“Officer Martin, is there something you need?”

Martin pointed at my living room, “Can we talk inside?”

I blocked the door, “Not possible, my daughter is taking her nap.”

“Fair enough, children have light sleep. But I still have a few questions to ask you.”

Martin moved closer, turning on his recorder and asked, “Has your surveillance camera been moved since it was installed?”

I replied, “The backup is with you, isn’t it? If it’s been moved, wouldn’t you have seen it?”

Martin said, “We’ve seen it, but we only have records from the last seven days; everything prior has been overwritten.”

I shrugged, “There’s nothing I can do about that. I installed the camera just to prevent them from causing trouble, it doesn’t need much memory. So what exactly do you want to ask?”

Just then, Officer Martin suddenly asked bluntly, “Do you know the electronic door lock code for 1603?”

“…”

I rolled my eyes, “Officer Martin, what are you thinking? Who would tell outsiders their home door code?”

Realizing something, I countered, “Are you suspecting me?”

Martin didn’t respond, just kept staring at me as if trying to see something on my face.

I angrily said, “Come on, let’s be logical. I had disputes with that couple, but I would never go as far as to kill and dispose of bodies! My daughter is still young; I wouldn’t risk my life over some petty conflicts to end up in jail.”

Officer Martin waved his hand, “Don’t be nervous, I’m just asking.”

“Is this a question? This is outright suspicion! That’s an appalling crime of murder and dismemberment. Do you think I have the guts for that?”

Being suspected, I snapped.

Martin, expressionless, said, “I don’t know about others, but you definitely have the guts. I just checked, and you studied at a medical school and worked as a surgeon for a few years. Disposing of bodies gruesomely is something most people might not have the guts to do, but for a surgeon, it might not be a big deal.”

“You… you…”

03

Seeing Martin’s expression that seemed to say “you are the murderer,” I trembled with rage. But soon I calmed down and retorted sarcastically, “You’ve done your homework well. Sure, I was a doctor, and I attended lots of dissection classes during college, but does being a doctor mean I have the guts to commit murder and dismemberment? And what are you suspecting me for anyway? Do you have any evidence?”

Martin pointed towards the door of apartment 1603, “We’ve conducted a site investigation, the doors and windows were intact, there’s only one possibility…”

I cut him off, “Someone knows their home password and used it to open the door, right? Because I installed the camera, you suspect I know their home password, right? Please, look at the position of the camera. My camera is mounted on the south wall, their door faces north, and from no angle can you see their electronic lock, okay?”

After finishing, I clenched my teeth and said again, “Officer Martin, please do your homework before you question me next time. You suspect me of murder and dismemberment, flushing their bodies down into the septic tank, right? Then please first investigate the recent water usage of our two households, see if there’s anything unusual.”

Martin suddenly smiled, “You know quite a bit, aware to check the water usage. Indeed, we have already checked, and found no problems, which is why I came to find you.”

I hadn’t spoken yet when Martin, still smiling, patted my shoulder: “Alright, don’t be upset, I believe it wasn’t you, but in cases like this, I, being a detective, have to follow the procedure.”

The change in Martin’s tone left me a bit baffled, I reflexively asked, “If there’s no problem, why come to me?”

Martin, somewhat embarrassed, said, “I’d like to ask for your help.”

“Help? Help with what?”

I was even more puzzled.

Martin chuckled awkwardly, “I’ve briefly looked at the novels you wrote this morning, they are all about perfect crimes, really fascinating.”

Before I could speak, Martin continued, “To be honest with you, the case of your neighbors being victimized is very tricky. The crime scene, besides those two heads, left no other body tissues; the floors, walls, and furniture were immaculately cleaned; even the community’s surveillance system that you pride yourselves on, I’ve checked multiple times and found no suspicious individuals. It’s as if the murderer appeared and disappeared out of thin air, so…”

Here, Martin paused, a smirk not quite hiding his intentions as he stared at me, “I’ve read so many of your stories about perfect crimes, you must know quite a bit about the criminal minds and methods. Consider it a favor I owe you; help me strategize and analyze how the murderer entered the room, and how he destroyed the evidence.”

Although Martin put on a serious face asking for help, I wasn’t in the slightest bit inclined to show him any kindness. I knew he was testing me.

Because Charles had said, that morning the police had asked the property management for all the surveillance backups of the building, especially those of the elevators and fire escapes, and they had checked them multiple times, finding nothing unusual. This meant the only people who met the conditions to commit the crime were us, the residents of this floor.

Since our side of the building and the side where the Davis’ apartment was were separated by a corridor, and because the corridor was open to the outside and could be seen from the opposite building, the only suspects could really only be us!

This wasn’t hard to see, what help, what analysis, it was all just Martin trying to trick me into giving something away.

Perhaps in Martin’s mind, he had already decided I was the murderer of the Davis couple, but lacking direct evidence he was being polite to me.

But he was clever, and I was not stupid. After all, this was a murder case, why would I walk into it? If I said too much, even if there was nothing initially, they could make something up, and I could never clear myself of suspicion if that happened.

Thus, I tactfully declined, “Sorry, Officer Martin, I really can’t help. As you can see, I’m home alone, not only do I need to take care of my child, but I also have to do laundry, cook, and earn money, I really don’t have the time.”

After speaking, I continued to ramble about how hard it was for a man to take care of a child alone, hoping Martin would understand my difficulties.

04

However, Martin was relentless. “No worries, just consider it a casual chat. Plus, we’ve already informed your wife, and she’s on her way back.”

“Why are you calling my wife back? She’s timid, can’t even touch raw meat without screaming, and now there’s been a murder, you want her to come back and get more upset?”

I was panicked, took out my phone to call my wife. Before the call could go through, Martin snatched the phone from my hand, his expression turning stern: “Why make a phone call all of a sudden? Is there something you don’t want others to see?”

I was about to retort when Martin added coldly, “A murder has occurred, and we’re bound to investigate. It’s only because your daughter is still young that we haven’t taken you in for questioning already. Stay put, wait for your wife to arrive, and then come with us.”

There was no more pretending; I outright asked, “It seems you’ve decided it was me? Do you have any evidence?”

Martin shrugged, “No evidence, but we have time. I hope you remember, fiction is just fiction and doesn’t equate to reality. Real-life police investigations aren’t like what you write in your books.”

Seeing Martin so sure of himself, I left him with a final remark, “Then I’ll wait,” and turned back into my apartment.

Inside the bedroom, I hugged my sleeping daughter and kissed her, waiting until my wife returned before reluctantly letting go.

“Luca…”

Before my wife could speak, I noticed two female officers behind her and quickly stepped forward, pulling her into an embrace.

“It’s okay, it’s just routine questioning. I’ll be away for a few days, it’s going to be tough on you. The baby’s milk is fed every six hours, 150 milliliters each time; be careful with the supplementary food in between, don’t feed her too much to avoid indigestion…”

I went on with instructions about taking care of our daughter, until Martin interrupted and pulled me away, leaving my wife in tears.

Seeing her crying, I shouted angrily, “What are you crying for? I’m going to assist with an investigation, not going to jail. You’re an adult, face a little difficulty and all you can do is cry! What else are you good for?”

With my rebuke, my wife cried even louder, awakening our daughter, who also started crying.

For a moment, the house was filled with the shrill sound of crying.

I walked up to Martin, anger in my voice, “Is this the outcome you wanted? Just wait, after this is over, I’m filing a complaint against you.”

Martin remained silent, just gesturing to his colleagues to escort me back to the criminal investigation division’s interrogation room.

It was my first time in a police station, sitting in the suspect seat, not feeling scared but finding everything rather novel.

However, as time slowly passed, my patience wore thin.

Being confined in a small room with dim lighting, without even a light turned on, and being denied access to the restroom, the cold from the air conditioning, and the iron chair which was uncomfortable to sit on made it extremely uncomfortable.

Losing patience, I yelled, “Martin, come out! You call me in to assist with an investigation and then show no up, what’s the meaning of this?”

“Don’t think I don’t know the law, even as a suspect, you can’t mistreat me! It’s written in the Criminal Procedure Law that when summoning or detaining a suspect, you must ensure their food and necessary rest.”

As the interrogation room grew darker, so did my mood.

But my shouting didn’t seem to bring anyone’s attention, as if they had forgotten about me.

After about eight or nine hours, no one had come to take my statement, and I was alone in the interrogation room.

What made me most angry was—after eight or nine hours without a restroom, I couldn’t hold it any longer!

A grown man, wetting his pants—what kind of situation was this!