Chapter Eight: Who Am I?

18:52

Several police cars arrived on Tristan Road.

As the door swung open, armed officers burst inside. The milk delivery man was pinned to the floor, handcuffed, and thoroughly searched.

Two men in bulletproof vests approached him. One was Alderson, and the other was his friend, Daniel, the deputy chief of Metro City Police.

Alderson waved behind him, and several officers gathered.

“Check the milk truck. See if there’s any evidence left behind!”

Daniel crouched before the delivery man, his cold gun barrel pressed against the man’s forehead, his eyebrow raised with a contemptuous gaze akin to looking at a dog. He stared at him and said,

“I don’t have time for nonsense. Tell me now—did you drive a man, someone who got in near the Art Museum?”

The milkman was utterly bewildered, but the scene told him this was serious. He shook his head desperately and explained,

“No, I didn’t stop anywhere coming back from downtown. No one got in the truck, I swear—absolutely not!”

He had barely finished speaking when the searching officers returned, holding up a pizza box and a twisted-open bottle of milk.

“Someone’s been inside the truck, ate pizza and drank milk. The pizza box is still warm, just a small piece left. Chief, do you need DNA testing?”

Daniel nodded at the officer. Though they knew who had escaped, proof was necessary, and DNA was the best way.

“Send it for testing. This time of year, a pizza left in the back of a truck will cool completely in thirty minutes, and without the pizza, even faster. If it’s still warm, it means it was eaten not long ago—the person must be nearby.”

With that, he kicked the milkman, who startled, trying to reach for the box in the officer's hand, but his hands were cuffed behind his back. As he lifted his head, a leg pressed it down hard.

“That’s my dinner! I love the pizza from Key West, bought it especially today. Officer, if someone was in the back, I truly wouldn’t have noticed! Ah! Let go, I can’t breathe!”

Alderson’s face was grim, ignoring the milkman's cries.

He patted Daniel’s shoulder, and the two stepped back, took out two cigarettes, handed one to Daniel, and lit up, inhaling deeply.

“Looks like this milkman didn’t realize someone was in the back. Now we have to search house by house along the route. We have to move quickly—if it takes more than twenty-four hours, I don’t know where this person could go, or what he might do.”

Daniel kept his eyes fixed on Alderson. His words made Daniel think harder.

“There’s a warrant, but if we search like this and the higher-ups check, we won’t be able to handle it. Tell me the truth—what’s the story with this criminal? Besides, the chief comes back tomorrow afternoon. If he asks...”

Daniel didn’t finish. Once the chief returned, he, as deputy, wouldn’t have as much authority. Alderson understood completely.

“This Zoe Zhou is the murderer of Jennifer.”

Daniel was puzzled, not hearing the full name, but that name made him pause, unable to react for a moment. Alderson paused, then continued,

“The victim’s full name is Jennifer Carter, the only child of Mr. Carter, state senator from Wisconsin. It was at Senator Carter’s instruction that this person was kept in Metro City Prison, and not allowed any sentence reduction.”

Daniel was stunned.

He nodded in recognition—he vaguely remembered something about this, but Jennifer Carter had supposedly died in a severe car accident. How had it become a homicide? He didn’t have time to dwell on details; those weren’t his concern right now. If Mr. Carter had given orders, everything was straightforward.

“I understand. I’ll mobilize all units for a full-scale search—he must be hiding nearby.”

Alderson knew urgency alone wouldn’t help. The most practical course was to launch a search; police were in no short supply now.

Tristan Road was a necessary route connecting the city and the suburbs. There weren’t many houses along the road; on the left was the seaside cliff, on the right the river embankment, steep and direct, with no way around.

If they blocked the bridge at the end of the road and searched, nothing would escape them. Alderson’s confidence surged.

Just then, his phone rang. Daniel glanced at the name displayed. His expression grew more solemn.

“Hello, Mr. Carter!”

“Cut the small talk. Have you caught him?”

Such a blunt opening made Alderson uncomfortable, but given the caller’s status, he had no right to be angry. After all, it was his own negligence that allowed the prisoner to escape.

“Not yet. We suspect he’s hiding somewhere along Tristan Road, and are about to start searching.”

“Then don’t waste time. Find him, dead or alive. If he’s alive, bring him in; if dead, show me the body!”

With that final command, the call ended. Daniel, beside him, heard every word, snatched off his cap, and exhaled deeply.

If he’d received the call himself, he wouldn’t have handled it any better than Alderson. Without pause, he grabbed the radio and shouted,

“Attention all units! Seal off Tristan Bridge. Start searching every household—don’t let even a mouse slip through. Fingerprint everyone. If we don’t find him tonight, expect my resignation letter!”

...

23:55

The doorbell rang. The door opened, and the sound of footsteps and male voices came through.

“Miss, please state your name and present your identification. We need to verify.”

A gentle female voice responded, her heels clicking at a measured pace.

“Here’s my ID. But it’s nearly midnight—checking IDs at this hour?”

“Routine procedure, ma’am. A murderer has escaped from prison and is hiding in this neighborhood. For everyone’s safety, we need to search inside. Are you living alone?”

The woman replied affirmatively.

Soon, footsteps filled the room, doors opening and closing.

“Detective, nothing found.”

“Sorry to disturb your rest!”

With those words, the footsteps faded away.

Zhou Yi slowly opened his eyes, but everything was pitch black, nothing visible. A sharp pain throbbed on his forehead; he lifted his hand and found it bandaged.

He tried to sit up, but pressure on his right hand sent pain through his shoulder, sapping his strength. His abdomen ached as well; pulling up his shirt, he found a patch over the sore spot, and frowned slightly.

Injured?

But his mind was blank—where was he?

Why was he here?

Before he could make sense of it, the door creaked open and a beam of light shone in.

The sound of high heels on wooden boards accompanied a woman descending from upstairs. Her crimson strapless gown highlighted her graceful figure.

With a click, the lights came on. The woman smiled at him, her lustrous black hair falling in soft waves, delicate features exquisitely beautiful—impossible to look away, her skin a pale, cool hue rivaling any Westerner’s, yet her appearance unmistakably Asian.

The woman in red saw Zhou Yi awake and arched an eyebrow, smiling as she gathered her skirt and walked over gracefully.

“You’re awake?”

Zhou Yi nodded blankly.

“How did I end up here?”

The woman in red smiled again, revealing perfect white teeth. She brushed her hair aside and crouched before him. Though he remembered nothing, her presence evoked a strange sense of familiarity.

“I’d like to ask you the same question. Why did you fall into my basement? The police were just searching for you, carrying your photo everywhere. Shouldn’t you tell me who you are, and why you appeared in my home?”

Zhou Yi opened his mouth to explain, but froze.

Right—who am I?

Why am I here?

Why are the police after me?

“I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to explain—I simply remember nothing. Do you believe me? And… have we met before?”