Somebody in here?
Holy Moses.
What a way to go.
Have you seen this M.O. before, Detective--
men cremated alive?
Yeah. Third time this year.
11th time, actually.
There were three in Seattle, three in Los Angeles
and two in Boston-- all Chinese men,
between the ages of 20 and 40.
All recent immigrants.
We weren't able to determine any of that
until just recently.
The other two bodies were much more badly burned.
We got lucky with this one.
Lucky?
That's an interesting word for it.
You have any leads on this case, Detective?
Any thoughts or ideas?
We've had a big influx of immigrants from Hong Kong
trying to get out before 1997.
And we've seen stepped-up gang activity
in the Chinese community, but so far
we can't tie these deaths to anyone or anything.
You got anybody that can read or speak Chinese?
Yeah, Glen Chao.
He's right over there. Why?
Will you get him for me?
I want to see if he can read this for me.
Sure. Glen.
One second.
Detective Chao.
Glen Chao, Agent Mulder.
Hi. What do you got? Hi.
There's something written up here on the ceiling.
I was wondering if you could read it.
Yeah. It says gui.
It means "ghost."
Ghost?
Does that mean anything to you?
I don't know, but it's something strange
for a man being burned alive to write, don't you think?
Hmm.
What's this?
Does anybody recognize this?
Looks like some kind of foreign currency.
It's called hell money.
It's to use as an offering during
the Chinese Festival of the Hungry Ghosts.
Is it worth anything?
It's not money per se.
It's a symbolic offering
to the evil spirits and the ghosts for good luck.
Where would I get this "hell money"?
Well, there aren't a whole lot of places
in Chinatown that sell it.
That's good.
Maybe we just found a way to identify the body.
His name is Johnny Lo.
He moved here about six months ago from Canton.
Still in the INS application process.
He was a dishwasher in Chinatown.
How many dishes do you have to break
before your boss tosses you in an oven?
I think it's pretty clear
this is some kind of a horrific cult
or gang retribution killing.
Why would he write the character for "ghost"
on the inside of the crematory oven?
I don't know.
What about the guard seeing three figures
that seemed to vanish without a trace?
So now we're chasing ghosts?
Who you gonna call?
Ghosts or ancestral spirits
have been central to Chinese spiritual life for centuries.
So you're saying that the ancestral spirits
pushed Johnny Lo into the oven and turned on the gas?
That would sure teach him to respect his elders, wouldn't it?
I checked all the neighboring buildings.
Nobody saw or heard a thing--
not surprisingly.
What does it say?
I don't recognize that.
It could be idiomatic-- some kind of code.
It's still tacky.
Can you copy it down for me?
Yeah. Sure.
Thanks.
Talk about tacky.
Someone's been here.
This place has been cleaned up.
Look at this.
What's that smell?
Maybe it's this new carpet.
Yeah. That's what it looks like.
What slumlord would spring for a new carpet
in a dump like this?
Looks like they saved some money on carpet tacks
and didn't even bother replacing the old padding.
What's this?
Chinese herbal medicine.
And what about this?
That's a dried frog.
I think they're sometimes used as charms--
good health and prosperity, protection.
Looks like Mr. Lo could've used a little of both.
Let's get this blood tested.
Li Oi-huan!
Xin!
I couldn't tell you what any one of these things are.
Well, they're roots mostly, like ginseng, turmeric.
Then you got your more exotic stuff--
bear gall bladder, snake, shark fin--
usually prepared in a soup or a tea.
What had the victim been using?
She says that it's skullcap root and Chinese angelica.
They're used for painkillers.
Does she remember Johnny Lo
or remember selling it to him?
Ask her if she knows he's dead.
Ask her if she recognizes those characters
that were painted on his door.
What was that about?
She says that the house was branded the Tsang Fang.
A haunted house.
Haunted?
You mean by ghosts?
Yeah.
It's hard to give an exact translation,
but it's what I was telling you about before.
The Chinese Yu Lan Hui--
the Festival of the Hungry Ghosts.
You see, on the...
15th day of the seventh moon in the Chinese calendar,
it's believed the gates of hell are opened
and the ghosts of unwanted souls roam the earth.
Now, believers protect themselves
by leaving gifts of food and hell money
outside their homes to appease the ghosts.
To keep them from coming inside and causing trouble.
But for some spirits--
the ghosts most feared by the Chinese--
there's no buying them off.
The Preta-- the ancient ghost
of a murdered man who wanders the earth
exacting its revenge on the living.
Or the Wu Chang Kuei,
who collects the souls of doomed men
and drags them down to Tai Yu...
to the Chinese hell.
You think these murders could be related?
It makes sense.
This year's festival is just about over.
What about you, Detective?
Do you believe in Yu Lan Hui?
I find it hard to argue
with 2,000 years of Chinese belief--
the stuff my parents and grandparents believe in.
But the truth is, I'm more haunted
by the size of my mortgage payments.
Hey!
What are you doing?
The night patrolman described three men
wearing the same masks as the ones I.D.'d at the crematory.
What were they doing here?
We don't know exactly.
They were spotted around this grave over here,
but we can't figure out exactly what they were up to.
Is this a newly dug plot?
Yeah. There's a burial here at noon tomorrow.
Chinese?
I don't know. We can check.
Chao, see if you can get the name
of the future occupant here.
I still don't understand
what anybody would want with an empty grave.
What the hell's he doing?
Something just occurred to me.
Looks like somebody was trying to get two burials
for the price of one.
What'd you find?
A lot.
And I haven't even finished my preliminary visual exam.
Look at this.
This guy's like a jigsaw puzzle.
These are all surgical incisions,
and judging by the color of the scars,
I'd say they were all made within the last year.
What was wrong with him?
If you ask me, nothing.
Nothing? What do you mean?
Do you know how much the human body is worth, Mulder?
Depends on the body.
I don't know. A few bucks.
How much?
It's worth a fortune.
You're saying that this guy
was selling his body parts for money?
A kidney, a portion of the liver, a cornea,
bone marrow--
a person can lose these things and live
to cash his Social Security checks.
He won't be cashing any Social Security checks any time soon.
No. But if I'm right,
this is one man who left his heart in San Francisco.
Scully, even if you're right, it doesn't figure.
There's no long-term business sense to dying.
What connection does this have to the crematory deaths?
I only saw one body, but the only thing
that wasn't burned to a delicate crisp on Johnny Lo
was his glass eye.
Oh, God.
Hsin Shuyang!
What's this?
Maybe you can tell us.
It was found in the body cavity of the man
who was dumped in the grave.
This?
You said the frog was a symbol of luck and prosperity.
Unless this is somebody's sick joke,
I'd say it must have another meaning.
Well, if it does, I don't know what it is.
I mean, it could be some kind of... triad symbol,
something from organized crime.
Well, maybe you can tell me this:
have you heard any word on the street
about the black market selling of body parts?
What?
Here in Chinatown?
This man with the frog in his chest
was missing a cornea and a kidney.
They were taken prior to
the time of death,
before the final removal of his heart.
And I found what is known as "sterile ice"
on the skin in and around the incision on his chest.
It is a substance that is used
to preserve human organs for transplant.
I don't even know where to start.
Well, we're going to need more help
from you than that, Detective.
The implication being that I'm not trying to help?
No.
Either you resent us being here,
or you feel some kind of protectiveness
towards the Chinese community.
Look, you don't even know
what the hell you're dealing with here.
This isn't some pretty little lacquer box
you can just take the lid off and find out what's inside.
You might see the face of a Chinese man here,
but let me tell you something-- they don't see the same face.
They see the face of a cop.
American-born Chinese-- ABC.
To them, I'm just as white as you are.
You know, you think because I speak the language,
I can get all your answers for you,
but what good is an interpreter
when everyone speaks the language of silence?
What's this?
It's the name of the company that installed the carpet
in Johnny Lo's apartment.
I just happened to run across it while I was sitting there
twiddling my thumbs.
You coming or not?
I'm Detective Chao with the San Francisco Police.
Could we have a word with you?
I'm late for work.
It'll only take a minute.
Could we come in, please?
Mr. Hsin, can I ask what happened to your eye?
Accident at work.
Carpet tack.
How long have you lived
in this country, Mr. Hsin?
Three years.
You live here alone?
My daughter.
Mr. Hsin, you laid a carpet in an apartment
that was occupied by a man named Johnny Lo.
I... don't know the name.
The-the man I work for tells me address only.
Well, we contacted the man that you work for.
He said that it must have been a job you took on the side.
He has no record of a work order.
What was the name of the man
who lived in this apartment?
His name was Johnny Lo.
He's dead now-- murdered--
and we think that the carpet was laid
in an attempt to cover up evidence.
Do you remember who called you about the job?
I don't know any of this.
Thank you, Mr. Hsin. If we need you,
we'll get back to you, okay? Thank you.
What's up?
I'll tell you in a second.
What was that about?
He has the back window blocked up.
Told him it was a firetrap.
Do you know what this is?
No.
Do you know what it says?
It's the character for "wood."
Wood?
Yeah. Why?
What are you thinking?
That this guy didn't have
an accident at work.
He's missing his eye,
and I'd like to know how he lost it.
I say we monitor Hsin's every movement.
I doubt they're to the ophthalmologist though.
Look like you just saw a ghost.
No, I'm just a little tired, jumpy.
One more string of firecrackers goes off,
I'm going to get out of the car and shoot somebody.
He hasn't left his apartment, has he?
No, but I'm glad you're here,
because I was just about to go up and ask Mr. Hsin
if I could use his bathroom.
Well, you can use the one
down at St. Francis Hospital.
What do you mean?
Detective Chao was attacked in his town house tonight.
I just talked to Lieutenant Neary.
He says he's cut up pretty bad.
Well, who cut him?
I don't know, but I think
we should go check it out.
How is he?
He's gone.
I got down to see him; he's not in his bed.
Did anybody see him get up?
The nurse said they just finished sewing him up,
that he got up to go to the bathroom.
That's the last anybody saw of him.
Why would he just take off?
Can I see his chart?
His chart? Yeah.
Sure. I guess.
You want to see what his injuries were?
I want to see what his blood type was.
His blood type?
Why would he run?
You think Chao's involved?
Maybe all this heel dragging is a diversion.
That ghost story's a ruse.
What was the hemotype
of the blood we found on the carpet padding?
Thank you.
Uh, O-negative.
Glen Chao, O-negative.
Well, that's a coincidence.
Wait a minute.
What are you saying?
That the blood that we found
on the carpet padding in the victim's apartment
was Detective Chao's.
And I'd be willing to bet that he's the one
that asked for it to be installed.
Mr. Hsin.
Yeah, that conversation they had wasn't about any firetrap.
We're looking for Mr. Hsin.
Is he home?
No. I'm sorry.
Are you his daughter?
Yes.
May we talk to you?
What's your father involved in, Kim?
I don't know.
He goes out.
I know he does it for me.
Because of me.
You're sick, aren't you?
Um, I was diagnosed
with acute lymphocytic leukemia six months ago.
But that's a treatable form of cancer.
We have no money or insurance.
And now, I fear that my father has done something illegal,
that he made mistake
and something bad is coming.
Who are these men that come to visit your father?
Oh, I don't know them.
I just know my father say he want out.
He want out, but of what, I don't know.
Do you know what this is?
No.
Do you know what it says?
I found it over there by the TV before.
It is, uh, the symbol for wood,
but in Chinese, it also correspond to the eye,
like fire
to the heart, and earth
to the flesh.
This is a human leukocyte workup.
Was your father rejected as a bone marrow donor?
Yes.
Several months ago.
This is from
the Organ Procurement Organization.
It's dated only a month ago.
Your father had an HLA,
but he also had his kidneys measured, his liver.
They're playing some kind of game.
Agents Mulder and Scully.
Thanks. We need some information,
and we need it as soon as possible.
What kind of information?
You had a man come in here named Shuyang Hsin.
He had an HLA workup and...
I think I may know what this is about.
What?
Well, we've seen a number of
Asian men come in for typing and antigen workups,
but when we find a compatible recipient for them,
their doctor says that they've left the area or disappeared.
Do you have a name or a phone number for this doctor?
Hsin Shuyang!
311 Porter, right?
Yeah. That's where the doctor's phone
is registered.
Hey, Scully, look who's here.
This must be the place after all.
It's definitely not Chinese food I'm smelling.
Smells like rubbing alcohol.
Or sterile ice.
What's this?
What is that?
Sounds like it's coming from upstairs.
Chao?
Hands in the air. Hands in the air!
He's still alive.
Chao.
What did he say?
He said...
the game's not over.
My people live with ghosts.
The ghosts of our fathers
and our fathers' fathers.
They call to us from distant memory,
showing us the path.
No ghosts called to those men.
You did, by preying on their hopelessness
and their desperation.
Yes, they were desperate.
Just as I was desperate when I first came to this country,
but I committed no crime.
You cheated them out of life
by promising them prosperity
when the only possible reward was death.
In my belief, death is nothing to be feared.
It's merely a stage of transition.
But life without hope--
now, that's living hell.
So, hope was my gift to these men.
I don't expect you to understand.
I understand this.
You are going to prison for a very long time.
Can I talk to you for a minute?
I just got back from St. Francis Hospital.
Hsin's still in intensive care.
What about his daughter?
I checked with the donor procurement organization.
She's been put on the recipient list.
That's great.
Yeah.
What's wrong?
It's our case against this guy.
We've had our task force interviewing everybody we busted
at the gaming parlor that night.
And?
They put up a wall of silence.
They all claim to be members of some social club,
that they saw nothing.
What about Chao?
His testimony would be enough to lock this guy up.
We can't find him.
He was supposed to testify
before a grand jury this morning.
When he didn't show, they went to his home.
He's vanished.
Like a ghost.