As the car headlights flickered past the blinds, the lead-gray walls changed, resembling the keys of an old piano, and a man's black silhouette paced over them. He walked to the filing cabinet by the wall, opened the top drawer, fingers sifting through layer after layer of files, selecting one from them.
The fan blades made a soft ticking sound, and the papers on the desk rustled in the breeze. On a sultry summer night, the air in the police station's office was a dull gray, and the TV in the corner of the room was playing a midnight commercial:
"Qile Circus, home to the most amazing animal friends, thrilling acrobatic performances, and everyone's favorite puppet master and magic witch show! The new coast tour is about to begin, so join us in Big Creek Town and embark on this exciting and fun adventure!"
Amidst the turning of papers, black and white crime scene photos appeared one after another: a charred pit with scattered human bones, the blurred face of a girl's corpse, muddy footprints, and bloody handprints on walls...
Finally, the man's gaze settled on the title marked at the top of the document – "Big Creek Town Massacre 1939."
Knock, knock, knock, the door was rapped upon. The sheriff put down his newspaper and walked over to open it. As soon as the door opened, he saw a man in a police uniform standing outside the office.
He wasn't exactly middle-aged, his face still relatively young, but the serious expression and solemn demeanor added a touch of maturity to him. The sheriff walked over, shook his hand, and said, "Chief of the Siv City Police Department, Baol Sisipus. Just call me Paul."
"Peter Parker, just came from Chicago."
"I heard, top student from the Chicago Police Academy." The sheriff led the man who introduced himself as Peter Parker into his office, fished out a pack of cigarettes from his desk. Peter shook his head, indicating he didn't smoke.
"You have a bright future; you could have stayed in Chicago or gone to Boston. Coming to a remote town like ours, there must be compelling reasons. Can you tell me about it?"
"My wife is about to give birth, and she needs someone to care for and accompany her. My job is busy, and I'm worried about something happening if she stays at home alone. Her family has an old house in Big Creek Town, where her aunt's family lives. We will be staying there until the children start school."
"I see." The sheriff appeared relieved, pulled out a cigarette from his pack, lit it, took a puff, and then said, "Since your wife is a local, I won't nag you much. Remember, you have a bright future; there's no need to find trouble for yourself."
"Yes, sheriff. It's too late today, I'll report in tomorrow morning. Good night."
"Good night." The sheriff paused after saying this and then added, "Are you heading back to the town tonight?"
"No, we've found a hotel in the city. I'll accompany her back after I complete the reporting and officially start my duties."
"Good, that's for the best. I wish you both a pleasant night."
Peter left the sheriff's office, observing the environment of the police station without making any noticeable movements. It was a typical small-town police station, established in the 19th century, renovated in the 20th, but still carried a shadow of the previous century.
The wooden floors were somewhat aged, a gray-brown color, and the walls were covered with lead-gray paneling. The ceiling fan blades in the office had yellowed and turned sluggishly, so a fan with a wire mesh cover was placed on a table by the door. In the reception hall at the entrance, the varnished surface of the benches was peeling, and the metal of the coin slot on the vending machine beside them was polished bright from wear.
As he pushed open the door of the police station and stepped out, the street outside was pitch black, with only a faint light coming from the southeast. A few signs were lit there, looking like a gas station.
Peter tightened his coat and took a folded map out of his pocket. It was a map of Siv City, but it also covered the terrain of six towns within its jurisdiction.
A conspicuous red dot marked on the map, marked with a marker pen. Peter's gaze fell on that red dot—it was a town that seemed once to have been very prosperous, with the town's name written beside the dot: "Big Creek Town."
"Hello, this is the Siv City Public Safety and Rescue Center hotline. How can we assist you?"
A man sat at his workstation, one hand holding the telephone receiver, the other sorting the cord. Over the line came the sound of faint sobbing.
"Please, save me, I beg you. Don't do this! Don't do this to me! Help me...help me..."
"Ma'am, please calm down first. Tell me where you are and what kind of help you need, okay?"
"Please save me...save me..."
There was not a trace of urgency in the operator's voice as he kept repeating, "Can you tell me where you are? I need to know your location to provide you with assistance. Tell me your address..."
"No, don't do this...no!!!"
A sharp, piercing scream from a woman was followed by the call being disconnected. The operator sitting at the desk sighed. His colleague returned from the bathroom, sat down at the workspace next to him, and then said, "Did that prank call come in again?"
"Yes, right on time, without missing a day. I really don't know what's going on," the operator shook his head and said, "I've asked everything I can, and I've reported it to the police, but it's the same routine every day. I don't know where this guy found such creepy recordings..."
"If you ask me, don't answer the calls at this time every day. If I were you, I'd be scared out of sleeping."
"I can't do that. What if someone really needs help? This is my duty, and I must do it well."
"You're a good person, Kent. I've rarely seen social workers as dedicated as you. You know, most people in this position just get by. We can never provide enough help to those in need of assistance."
"Actually, it's not your fault. I reported it to the police before, but they didn't take it seriously. People in this city can be quite indifferent, but someone must stand up, right?"
"You're right. It's time to clock off, but I still have some work left. You go ahead. Have a pleasant evening."
"You too."
The operator stood up. He was particularly tall and strong, wearing a beige shirt and black-framed glasses. When he turned around, his bright blue eyes stood out.
He picked up his coat, but didn't put it on, just draped it over his arm. Then he took a tape from his workstation and tucked it under his clothes, before leaving the office.
He got on his bicycle and rode westward along the office building. As he passed a hotel, he happened to see a man supporting a pregnant woman as they entered the hotel.
"Maybe he'll become a dad before this Christmas," Kent thought. He kept riding until he reached the entrance of a somewhat old apartment building, took his coat upstairs, and unlocked the door with a key.
It was a slightly cramped little apartment, with only a small living room and a bedroom. Kent walked over to the sofa in the living room and sat down, fished out a tape recorder from under the coffee table, and inserted the tape.
"Please, save me, I beg you. Don't do this! Don't treat me like this! Help me... help me..."
The tape recorder began playing the tape, and the content recorded was precisely what was said during that harassment call just now, the woman's cries for help.
"Not having Super Hearing sure is inconvenient," Kent sighed, talking to himself.
He listened to the entire recording, then rewound the tape and listened again. Then a second time, a third time...
Finally, he seized the opportunity, stopping the tape recorder at just the right moment, switched to slow playback, brought the tape recorder to his ear, and started listening carefully.
Sure enough, amidst the woman's screams, there was a piece of cheerful music in the background, seemingly an advertisement playing on the TV:
"...Circus... animal friends... witch... tour begins... sizzle... sizzle... Big Creek Town... adventure..."
Kent listened again from the start but could only pick out a few scattered words, yet he managed to capture what sounded like a location name and wrote it down.
Early the next morning, he got up as usual and went to work. After sitting down at his workstation, he casually asked a colleague, "Do you know where Big Creek Town is?"
"Big Creek Town?" The colleague said, somewhat surprised. "Isn't that the town to the west? Why?"
"Nothing, I just heard it on the radio."
"That's a bit odd, that place is quite remote, in the valley to the west, generally nobody mentions it. Where did you hear it from?"
"I've forgotten." Kent said, "I can't believe there's a valley to the west, I've been here so long, I didn't know."
"Yes, the scenery there is quite nice. But because it's so remote, highways can't directly reach there, usually nobody goes. But I heard from my dad, that town used to be quite famous."
"Oh, why?"
"I don't know either, maybe because the scenery is good. You can tell from the name, there are mountains and water there, perhaps some people like going there for vacation?"
"If that's the case, there wouldn't be no road," Kent remarked and stopped talking about it. After a while, he finished his work, then said, "I need to go out for a bit, my friend has something for me, I'll be back soon. If any calls come in, can you take them for me?"
"Go ahead, there won't be anything."
Kent nodded and walked out the door. Once outside, he got back on his bicycle, but this time rode east, quickly arriving at the entrance of a gas station.
He stood there. Inside the gas station store, a man at the checkout seemed to sense his gaze, turned his head to look over. He was also quite burly, with short black hair, wearing a white T-shirt and a black motorcycle jacket over it, his face quite handsome, but he looked a bit melancholic, even those blue eyes revealed a touch of desolation.
Finishing the checkout for the last customer, he walked out from behind the counter, came up to Kent, and said, "Why are you here?"
"Remember the harassment phone calls I mentioned that come every night?"
The other person nodded and said, "Yes, you said there was a woman asking for help."
"I recorded that call, listened to it repeatedly on the tape recorder, and heard a location name in the background advertisement."
"What location?"
"Big Creek Town, Bruce. Your suspicion is correct, your daughter's disappearance probably indeed has something to do with that town."