“No, I don’t think the murderer has to have a garage.”

“Oh, the identity of the second victim has been established. Qiao Chunyan. An eating girl. Usually at a restaurant called Ming River.”

“One of the three-accompanying girls?”

“Yes, that’s how she lived, and how she died too.”

Yu did not have to elaborate. The three-accompanying girls-the girl who accompanied customers in eating, in singing, and in dancing-was a new profession and a new term in the Chinese language. Sex business was still officially banned, but people managed to carry on under all kinds of guises. So the “three-accompanying” business flourished. There was no law against girls eating, singing, and dancing with customers. As for the possible service afterward, the city authorities acquiesced, with one eye open and one eye closed. The girls had to face occupational hazards, of course, including a sex killer.

“So they both worked at low-end jobs,” Chen said.

“That suggests a new direction for Liao. He thinks the killer might have a grudge against those girls. That’s how he started the serial killing,” Yu said. “But I don’t see a real connection between the two. For the second, there was a possibility of her falling into the killer’s hands because of her job. For the first victim, however, it’s a different story.”

“Yes, you’ve done a thorough job on her.”

“A hotel attendant is not a three-accompanying girl. From what I’ve gathered, she was a decent, hard-working girl. She helped at her hotel canteen too, but it’s too small for Big Bucks or eating girls. If she were an unscrupulous gold digger, she wouldn’t have chosen to work at a small hotel.”

“I think you’re right,” Chen said. “So what do you think is the connection between the two?”

“Here is a list of what the two have in common,” Yu said, producing a page torn from a pad. “Liao has checked most of the points.”

“Let’s go through the list,” Chen said, taking the page.

1. Young, pretty girls in their early twenties, unmarried, not highly educated, of poor family background, working at low-end jobs, possibly engaged in some indecent business.

2. Each in a red mandarin dress. Torn in the side slits, several bosom buttons unbuttoned, thigh-and-breast-revealing, erotic or obscene in the effect, though the dress appeared exquisite and conservative in style. No underwear or bra, either, in contradiction to the common mandarin dress code.

3. Bare feet, Qiao with red-painted toenails, Jasmine’s unpainted.

4. Neither of them was sexually assaulted. While the first body showed bruises possibly from resistance, no trace of penetration or ejaculation was found. As for the second, no bruises suggesting sexual violence. The first body was washed, but not the second body.

5. Public locations. Highly difficult and dangerous to dump the bodies unseen.

“Have you got any new pictures that tell us more about who they were and how they lived?”

“Yes, mostly Qiao’s pictures. She had a passion for them.”

“Let’s take a look at them.”

Yu arranged the photographs in a line on the table.

Chen studied them, like a man examining possible dates suggested by a matchmaker. It might be sheer coincidence, he noted, that each of the girls had a picture taken at the People’s Square, in the summer. Jasmine wore a white cotton summer dress, and Qiao had on a yellow tank top and jeans. Chen put the two pictures side by side. Jasmine appeared to be the slimmer of the two, and possibly taller as well.

“Do you notice the difference in their build, Yu?” he said, gazing at the pictures.

Yu nodded without speaking.

Chen placed two pictures taken at the crime scenes underneath the two taken at the People’s Square.

“According to Shen, a good mandarin dress has to be customer-tailored, tight-fitting, so it brings out all the curves. Look at the two-crime-scene pictures. In both, the dress really clings to the body. We should check the dress sizes. See if the two are slightly different.”

“I’ll check.” Yu added, “But if it is so-”

“It means that he has a supply of expensive, vintage mandarin dresses-identical in color, material, and design, but in different sizes for him to choose from.”

“He could have made them for someone he loved or hated,” Yu said, “but why in different sizes?”

“That puzzles me,” Chen said. It was yet another contradiction, like in those love stories he had been analyzing.

“What else has Shen told you?”

Chen recounted his discussion with the elderly scholar.

“In the light of Shen’s analysis,” Chen said, “the murderer could have had these made in the eighties, after a particular fashion from even earlier, and kept them in a closet all these years until the first strike two weeks ago.”

“Why the long wait?”

“I don’t know, but that may explain your failure to find any clues about the mandarin dress. It’s such a long time ago. In the early eighties, the mandarin dress was not yet back in fashion, so no mass production. They were possibly made by an individual tailor, who could have since passed away, retired, or moved back to the countryside.”

“Yes, that’s what Peiqin thinks,” Yu said. “But if they are from the sixties or seventies-during the Cultural Revolution-I doubt anyone would have chosen to wear them in those years. Peiqin recalls only one example from then-the photograph of Wang Guangmei being mass-criticized in a torn mandarin dress.”

“It was like the scarlet letter. Peiqin is right,” Chen said. “Are there any new theories in the bureau?”

“Liao still holds on to his material profile. And I’ve told you about Little Zhou’s, haven’t I? The elaborate theory about an anti-Manchurian message. He is still hawking it around.”

“That theory isn’t credible. Still, it pushes for an organic interpretation of the contradictions. In the city of Shanghai, for one thing, it is out of the question for a woman in an elegant mandarin dress to walk around barefoot. Such a contradiction can be part of the ritual meaningful to the sex criminal.”

“But whatever contradiction we are talking about,” Yu said, “I don’t think the first victim is the type of three-accompanying girl Liao has in mind.”

“What’s Liao’s theory on the relationship between the red mandarin dress and the sex business?”

“As it seems to Liao, a three-accompanying girl in a mandarin dress might have dumped and deceived the killer. So he justifies his action by putting each of his victims in such a dress.”

“But that does not account for the exquisite craftsmanship and conservative style of the dress. I don’t think a three-accompanying girl could have afforded to wear a dress like that. And since the killer went to such trouble for the dress, I don’t think he thought of his victims as trash.”

“So what’s your take on the dress, Chief?”

“The dress might have been part of the psychological ritual or sexual fantasy with a special meaning for the murderer.”

“Then how can we know what it’s supposed to mean, if he is such a nut?”

“Liao’s material profile may help, but for a serial killer, we also need to have a psychological profile.”

“I mentioned your translation of psychological thrillers to Li, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

“In Li’s logic, serial killing can occur only in Western capitalist societies, not in socialist China.”

“I have read some mysteries, but I haven’t made any systemic study of them. I wonder how a psychological approach could help the present case.”

“Here in China? I don’t know. In the West, psychoanalysis being a common practice, things can be different. Those with psychological problems might have medical records somewhere. Doctors may perform a psychological evaluation of the suspect. Or cops may have had special training. In my college years, I never took a psychology course. Just read a couple of articles on psychoanalysis for the sake of my literature papers. As for the theories and practices in mystery novels, you can’t take them seriously.”