Read The Eight Curious Cases of Inspector Zhang for Free Online Page A

and stare in morbid fascination.
    The woman was lying face down, one leg twisted awkwardly, one arm under her body, and a pool of blood was slowly spreading around her head. He didn’t need to check for signs of life. Her dress had ridden up her legs exposing her thighs and Inspector Zhang tenderly pulled it down.
    As he straightened up, a patrol car arrived and two uniformed policemen got out. Inspector Zhang showed them his warrant card, explained what had happened, and asked them to help keep the onlookers away. There were now more than fifty people pressing around trying to get a look at the body.
    Sergeant Lee arrived just ten minutes after Inspector Zhang had called her. She was wearing a dark blue suit and had her hair clipped up at the back. “I’m sorry to bring you in so late but I was the first on the scene,” said Inspector Zhang.
    â€œBut you’re not on duty tonight,” said Sergeant Lee.
    â€œAn inspector of the Singapore Police Force is always on duty,” said Inspector Zhang.
    â€œBut isn’t it your thirtieth wedding anniversary tonight?” asked Sergeant Lee, walking over to the body with the inspector.
    â€œMy wife understands,” said Inspector Zhang.
    â€œDid she jump?” asked the sergeant, leaning over the body and taking out her notebook.
    â€œShe was calling out saying that she was going to jump and I was trying to talk to her but …” He shrugged. “Sometimes there is nothing that can be done to stop them.”
    Sergeant Lee looked up at the building and shuddered.
    â€œThis is your first suicide?” asked the inspector.
    Sergeant Lee nodded solemnly.
    â€œIt is not uncommon in Singapore,” said Inspector Zhang. “We have an average of four hundred a year, more during times of economic crisis.”
    â€œI don’t understand why anyone would kill themselves,” she said. “Especially a young woman.”
    â€œIt’s usually because of money, or an affair of the heart. But our suicide rate is still well below that of Japan, Hong Kong and South Korea.”
    â€œI suppose because our lives are better here in Singapore,” said the sergeant.
    â€œDo you know which country in the world has the highest rate of suicides?” asked the inspector. Sergeant Lee shook her head. “Lithuania, followed by Russia,” said Inspector Zhang. “Their suicide rates are four times ours.” He looked down at the body. “And like you, I can never understand why anyone would want to take their own life.”
    â€œI don’t see a bag or a wallet,” said Sergeant Lee.
    â€œThat’s not unusual,” said Inspector Zhang. “Suicides generally take off their glasses and leave their belongings behind. A man, for instance, will often take out his wallet, keys and spare change and place it on the ground before jumping.” He shrugged. “I don’t know why, but that’s what they do.”
    An ambulance pulled up in front of the building and two paramedics climbed out. Inspector Zhang went over to speak to them, then returned to Sergeant Lee and told her to accompany him into the building.
    The glass doors were locked and there was no one sitting behind the counter at reception. “They probably only have the desk manned during the day,” said the inspector.
    There was a stainless steel panel set into the wall with forty numbered buttons and a speaker grille. At the top of the panel was a small camera set behind thick glass. Inspector Zhang pressed button number one. After a few seconds a man asked him in Chinese who he was and what he wanted. Inspector Zhang held up his warrant card and replied in Mandarin, telling the man who he was and that he required him to open the door. The lock buzzed and Sergeant Lee pushed the door open. Inspector Zhang thanked the man and put away his warrant card.
    He followed Sergeant Lee into the marbled foyer and looked around. “No