Attending ex-girlfriend's wedding, arresting the groom's officer on the spot

Through in-depth analysis of Zhao Liang's call records by the technical department, Lü Shan's phone number, like a submarine surfacing, had frequent contact with Zhao Liang and Zhou Kun before and after the incident. More importantly, cell tower location data showed that on the night of the incident, Lü Shan's phone signal briefly paused at a cell tower near Zhou Kun's home. Wang Shuai stared at the flashing red dot on the electronic map, his eyes sharpening: "This person is a prime suspect. Apply for a search warrant immediately!"

The arrest operation began at three in the morning. In the old-style apartment building rented by Lü Shan, a faint blue light shone through the curtains. When the door was broken down, Lü Shan was huddled in front of his computer, the screen densely packed with stone transaction data. An ashtray beside him was overflowing with cigarette butts, the pungent smell of smoke mixed with the sour odor of instant noodles filling the air. "Lü Shan, come with us." Wang Shuai's voice echoed in the silent room. Lü Shan turned sharply, a flicker of panic crossing his eyes behind his glasses, but he quickly regained his composure.

In the interrogation room, Lü Shan sat with his legs crossed, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the table. "Officer, I'm just an ordinary building materials broker. You've arrested the wrong person, haven't you?" He wore a neatly ironed shirt with a fine tie clip, appearing completely innocent. Wang Shuai slammed the cell tower location map on the table; the blue dot in Zhou Kun's house stood out prominently. "Why was your phone near the deceased's residence in the early morning of July 9th?"

Lu Shan's fingers paused for a moment, then he sneered, "Can't I just drop my phone? There are so many thieves these days, how am I supposed to know where it went?" His eyes defiantly met Wang Shuai's gaze. "Do you have any evidence that I had the phone?" Zhang Hui pulled up the call log and zoomed in on the details of Lu Shan's call with Zhao Liang during the time of the incident: "This call at 1:23 a.m. lasted 3 minutes and 17 seconds. What did you talk about? Zhao Liang confessed everything."

"He's spouting nonsense!" Lü Shan suddenly stood up agitatedly, his handcuffs slamming against the iron table with a loud thud. "I just introduced a few deals and earned some commission. Where did all these schemes and tricks come from?" His voice was loud, but his face showed no panic; instead, it carried a confident composure. Wang Shuai noticed that Lü Shan's pupils involuntarily contracted when he mentioned "schemes and tricks."

The subsequent interrogation reached a stalemate. No matter what evidence the police presented, Lü Shan evaded the questions with various excuses. When asked if he knew Zhou Kun, he scoffed, "The building materials industry is so small, we're just nodding acquaintances." Regarding the 50,000 yuan hush money, he was even more dismissive: "Business has its ups and downs, how would I know how they traded in private?"

The interrogation lasted a full ten hours, and Lü Shan remained tight-lipped throughout. He leaned back in the interrogation chair, feigning sleep with his eyes closed, enduring Wang Shuai and Zhang Hui's repeated questioning. Occasionally, he would speak, but it was always with a sarcastic tone: "Officers, if you don't have evidence, don't waste everyone's time. My company has several big deals waiting to be discussed."

Night fell again, the interrogation room lights still a stark white. Wang Shuai clenched his fists, watching Lü Shan's calm expression on the monitor. He knew this opponent was no simple man; to get him to talk, he needed to find more crucial evidence. Lü Shan, too, knew that as long as he remained silent, the police couldn't do anything to him for the time being. This silent battle had only just begun.

The real turning point in the case came early the next morning after Lü Shan's arrest.

When the technicians lifted the old wooden crate under Lü Shan's bed, a musty smell mixed with the stench of rust wafted out. The black jacket lay huddled at the bottom of the crate, its dark red stains on the cuffs and front gleaming eerily under the survey lights, like dried blood. Zhang Hui put on latex gloves and carefully unfolded the garment; tiny fragments of brick and stone were still stuck between the fabric fibers—a composition highly consistent with construction debris from the demolition site.

"Send it for testing immediately!" Wang Shuai's voice boomed in the quiet bedroom. On the way back to the scene for identification, Lü Shan suddenly sprang to his feet, his handcuffed hands slamming against the bulletproof glass of the police car: "Framed! This is fabricated evidence!" The veins on his neck bulged, and his eyes behind his glasses were bloodshot, but the moment he saw the forensic report, he slumped into the seat as if his spine had been ripped out.

The interrogation room was blasting air conditioning, yet Lü Shan kept wiping the cold sweat from his forehead with his shoulder. When Zhang Kai slammed the DNA comparison results onto the table, the sound of the paper hitting the metal surface sent a shiver down his spine—the bold words "supports that the bloodstains originated from Zhou Kun" on the report felt like a heavy hammer blow to his temple.

“On the evening of July 8th, Zhou Kun called me and said he wanted to talk about Yongsheng Company.” Lu Shan suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse like sandpaper rubbing. “I know he has evidence of my and Zhao Liang’s forgery, the original quality inspection reports, and our phone recordings.” His fingers unconsciously dug at the corner of the table, leaving several crescent-shaped scratches.

That night at ten o'clock, Lü Shan, carrying a steel rod he'd just bought from a hardware store, knocked on Zhou Kun's door. "He was very wary; he only opened the security door a crack," Lü Shan's Adam's apple bobbed. "I handed him an envelope containing cash, saying I needed to pay to avoid further trouble. He hesitated for a moment, then finally let me in."

The living room was dimly lit, and a half-empty bottle of baijiu (Chinese liquor) sat on the coffee table. Zhou Kun leaned back on the sofa, his fingers trembling slightly as he held a cigarette. "Lü Shan, you think you can shut me up with 50,000 yuan?" He suddenly stubbed out his cigarette on the envelope Lü Shan handed him, the flame instantly engulfing the hundred-yuan bill. "You and Zhao Liang got me chased and yelled at by the client, now the project's off, and my wife wants a divorce!"

The commotion alerted the neighbors upstairs. Recalling the scene, Lü Shan's face showed fear: "He grabbed an ashtray from the table and threw it at me. I raised my hand to block it, and the steel rod just swung out." The dull thud of metal hitting his skull lingered in his mind. "The first blow hit behind his right ear; he staggered and knocked over the TV cabinet, the sound of shattering porcelain was particularly jarring."

Zhou Kun struggled to crawl towards the door, his fingernails scratching five bloody marks on the floor. Lü Shan gripped his steel rod and chased after him, striking the back of his head and neck repeatedly. "I'll never forget the look in his eyes when he was slumped in the entryway," Zhou Kun said. He suddenly covered his face, tears welling between his fingers. "I wanted to call the police, but my phone's unlock password is his birthday. I'm afraid the police will trace it back to me."

The process of disposing of the body lasted a full three hours. As Lü Shan dragged the flatbed truck he usually used for deliveries out of the garage and wrapped the body in a sheet, the deceased's arm suddenly drooped, the fingertips brushing against his calf. "I almost fainted from fright," he said, trembling as he lit a cigarette, only to cough violently from the fumes. "After stuffing the body into the trunk, I drove around the city for two hours, finally remembering that Donghuan Village was being demolished." (End of Chapter)