Chapter 32 chapter Five

Officer Zhao opened the drawer of the desk, took out a kraft paper file bag from inside, bypassed the sealing line, pulled out a pasted yellowed paper, and motioned to the prisoner: "Look at what this is?" Prisoner No. 124 opened his eyes and looked at it for a while: "It's a death notice." "Whose?" Officer Zhao snapped. "I, I can't see clearly..." the female prisoner whispered. "This is what you said about Brother Chen, the death notice of the first Kuomintang pilot who died!" Officer Zhao roared and threw the piece of paper in front of me.I watched carefully by the brightness of the 60-watt bulb.There is an ink grid on the paper, and in the grid is written neatly in small letters:

"It's... Brother Chen's death notice..." the female prisoner said obediently. "I still have a lot of notices like this." Officer Zhao patted the kraft paper portfolio, looking a little proud, "Then the facts of this paragraph are basically clear, Mr. Zhang, you should have heard clearly, there should be no such paragraphs. What question." I hesitated: "Yes, this history is true, but I don't understand..." "That's fine, let's talk about what happened in August 1964." Officer Zhao didn't give me a chance to ask questions, and waved his hands to signal the prisoners to continue.The time span suddenly jumped from 41 years to 64 years. My mind has not turned around at all, and the doubts in my heart have risen to the peak.But now is not a good time to ask questions.I took out half a cigarette from my pocket—the one given to me by the head of the department, Lao Yan, was stubbed out after I smoked half, and I put it away. It was just in use at this moment——I picked up the matchbox from the ashtray, He glanced at Officer Zhao inquiringly.The black-faced man noncommittally took out the aluminum foil cigarette case, took the matchbox and lit a filter cigarette for himself.When I saw it, I lighted a cigarette calmly.The two of us puffed and smoked, and after a while, the interrogation room was filled with smoke, and even the lights seemed dim.

The female prisoner frowned, as if she was a little dissatisfied with the smoke, but she still spoke: "In August 1964, I was..." "Don't tell the workplace and job content!" Officer Zhao stopped her statement in time. "Understood." The female prisoner thought for a while, and seemed to be choosing her words, "August 10 or 11, 1964, I remember that day should be Sunday, I was listening to the radio at home while mending my husband's trousers I got... the notice from my superiors, asking me to go to... the work unit." "August 9th, Sunday." Officer Zhao corrected.

"Yes, Sunday, August 9th. I took the bus to work and met the Japanese in the reception room. Can I say his name?" "Let's talk." Officer Zhao took a puff of his cigarette, put it out in the ashtray, and picked up his pen again. "I met Mr. Ishishu Sekio, the president of Japan Datong Co., Ltd., and the accompanying personnel from relevant departments of our country. He came to China with the Japanese table tennis team who went to Beijing to participate in the friendly match. His company is As the main sponsor of the Japanese table tennis team, it was specially approved. In fact, when Comrade Liao Chengzhi signed a non-governmental trade memorandum with Japan in 1962, Mr. Ishishu applied to go to China to carry out business activities, but he did not get it at that time. Permitted, he did not come to China until 1964," said the prisoner.

Director Zhao suddenly smiled at me. This meaningless smile made me feel a little creepy: "Listen, Mr. Zhang, she is going to talk about the key part." "Mr. Wuzhou Guannan said that he is very interested in a certain product produced by our company, and hopes to learn more about the situation. Since I know more about this product—of course, I am not directly responsible—and Mr. Wuzhou appointed the A woman explained it to him, so the next day after visiting the workplace, I arrived at his suite in the Beijing Hotel with samples for business negotiations. Unexpectedly, he did not talk about import and export of goods there, but talked about He told me about the past during the Anti-Japanese War. He said that he knew me and was very familiar with me. It is a miracle among miracles to see me again in this life." The female prisoner narrated calmly.

Officer Zhao suddenly pulled out a black and white photo from his file bag and held it up high: "Is it him?" "It's him." The prisoner immediately admitted. The photo is a half-length photo of a gray-haired Asian man, about fifty years old, with a stiff posture and a modest Japanese smile on his face. "Look, Teacher Zhang." Officer Zhao threw the photo in front of me, right next to Chen Guimin's death notice twenty-five years ago.I glanced around and immediately discovered his intentions. The notice described the deceased as "square face, birthmark on the neck, and canine teeth on the left side." The canine teeth and the bluish birthmark on the neck are clearly discernible.

"You mean... this Japanese is a Kuomintang pilot who has been killed for 25 years?" I was shocked. "Tsk, look." Officer Zhao spread his hands, looking a little smug.