Free A Perfect Crime by A. Yi Page A

first reaction to freedom was to erupt in a violent fit, calmed only as the blood returned to my limbs. I stood up. The sweat poured off me and my trousers were weighed down with shit, but I pushed through the crowd of tourists and made my way down the hill. I was starving. I washed myself in the cold lake water and decided never to do that again.
    M idway down the hill was a small village. Shop flags fluttered in the wind and plumes of steam from baskets of buns filled the air. Locals were laying out displays of walnuts and almonds by a line of parked buses, with tour groups poking at their wares. I’d stepped out of a cold and desolate world into one of warmth and sensuality. They knew nothing of what I’d been through, the horror that had just befallen me.
    Breakfast restored me and I went to find a telephone kiosk.
    ‘Who is this?’ the voice from the other end said, clearly shaken.
    ‘Li Yong, it’s me.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Me.’
    His silence told me he knew.
    ‘Don’t worry. I just called to say one thing. Remember this day and raise a glass to me every year. I’ll be your brother in the next life too.’
    The idiot started crying. ‘Of course.’
    I had planned to ask him what people were saying about me, but I decided I could well imagine. So I hung up.
    I found a shady billiard shack, picked up a cue and started playing. The boss wanted the business, so he came over to play with me. I took out my last three hundred and placed them under a stone at the edge of the table. ‘One hundred a game.’ The boss looked me up and down and said we should play a game first.
    It was just as well, as he was an impatient guy who didn’t put any thought into his shots. Balls that needed only the lightest nudge, he’d thwack. I played carefully, trying to prolong the game with tactics. It wasn’t my usual style, but right now I thought it might not be a bad option. It was like playing mah-jong with the boss; you had to let him win, but not too easily. He accused me at times of taking too long. He had a dirty mouth and after a while I too started recklessly smashing balls. At least that way he stayed and played.
    I was controlling him and I wasn’t going to let the game finish just yet. Only when a group of guys camein did I let my real skills show, leaving the boss reeling in shock.
    ‘I just wanted you to help me kill time.’
    He looked insulted, picked up the cue and started thumping it against the table. I didn’t look at him but went over to the refrigerator, took out a cola and a packet of cigarettes and dropped a hundred note.
    ‘Keep the change.’
    I drank a long gulp of the cola, puffed on a cigarette and examined the suits who had just strode in. They looked over a few times, but dismissed me.
    ‘Who you looking for?’ I asked gruffly.
    They came over. One took out a photo and showed it to me. I was looking at a picture of myself with a grisly beard and messy hair. I was staring down the lens. I don’t think I’d have recognised myself either.
    ‘What a bunch of novices.’
    They looked insulted and turned to leave. I blew out a curl of smoke and reached out as it clouded my eyes.
    ‘I killed Kong Jie.’
    I only said it because of the smoke in my eyes.
    They looked at each other and then swarmed around me, pushing at my shoulders, stamping on my legs, trying to wrestle me to the floor.
    ‘I could have been long gone, if I’d wanted to.’
    Once in the back of the car, they treated me with abit more reverence. I was a murderer, after all, not just some tramp. In fact, they handled me like an expensive ceramic vase, afraid I’d break. They couldn’t hide their latent narcissism, though.
    ‘How did you know who we were?’
    ‘The leather belts.’
    They looked down at their waists. The buckles were printed with a police crest.
    ‘I want a KFC,’ I said, and then dropped off to sleep.

The Interrogation

T hey covered my head. The sound of their voices was distant; it felt like I was the only one