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

“Preserve it for now, focus on the skeleton.” Zhang Kai removed the internal organs, revealing the complete manubrium of the sternum. “Take the pubic symphysis; this is key to age estimation.” As the fan-shaped bone was separated, he examined it carefully with a magnifying glass. “Most of the surface ridges are smoothed out, and ossified nodules appear on the articular surfaces, consistent with grade 4 in the Suchey-Brooks classification.”

Xiaolin, who was standing nearby, took notes: "Corresponding age range: 38-42 years old?"

"We also need to consider the teeth." Zhang Kai picked up a dental mirror. "The third molar is fully erupted, and the occlusal surface is worn down to the superficial dentin layer. According to the tooth wear classification, it's grade 3." He counted the dentinal pits on the molars. "The first molar has three exposed dentin areas, and the second molar has two. Based on this, I estimate the age to be around 39, with an error margin of no more than two years."

Suddenly, Zhang Kai's tweezers stopped on the deceased's left humerus: "There are signs of an old fracture healing here, a slanted healing line, likely caused when he was 20-25 years old." He measured the callus thickness. "Good healing, no deformity, probably a sports injury."

During the examination of the digestive system, the discovery of the stomach contents caused the two men to exchange a glance. "About 500 ml of chyme, containing rice, lean meat, and celery fiber." While taking a sample, Zhang Kai used tweezers to pick up a small piece of metal. "Is this...titanium alloy?" After examining it under a microscope, he suddenly stood up. "Check the recent missing persons reports for a 39-year-old man who has undergone hip replacement surgery."

"The cause of death hasn't been determined yet," Kobayashi reminded him.

Zhang Kai returned to the head dissection: "The glass shards from earlier have come up; they're CR-39 resin, commonly used in eyeglasses." He turned over the scalp, revealing a contusion band in the subcutaneous tissue corresponding to the wound. "But the skull fracture line extends radially, indicating a single, severe blow." He suddenly pointed to the temporal bone, "There's suture separation here, caused by external pressure."

"Could it be a combination of causes of death?" Kobayashi gasped.

"Take meningeal tissue for testing." Zhang Kai's voice was grave. "A wound to the back of the head isn't fatal, but it could cause a coma. The real cause of death should be in the neck." As the neck tissue was separated layer by layer, his tweezers picked up a cord-like structure. "Fracture of the greater horn of the hyoid bone, and a fracture of the ossification center of the superior horn of the left thyroid cartilage."

"Was he hanged or strangled?"

“There’s a living reaction at the fracture edge, indicating a pre-mortem injury.” Zhang Kai measured the distance at the fracture site of the hyoid bone. “The distance is 0.8 centimeters, consistent with strangulation.” He suddenly pointed to the neck muscles, “There is bleeding in the deep muscle groups, indicating that a great force was applied and lasted for at least 3 minutes.”

At six o'clock in the evening, the autopsy was nearing its end. Looking at the neatly arranged organ samples, Zhang Kai suddenly noticed a 1.2-centimeter hamartoma in the deceased's right kidney: "A benign tumor; it won't affect the determination of the cause of death." He then examined the bones of the left hand, noting, "The periosteal reaction in the second joint of the ring finger is obvious, caused by wearing rings for a long time, similar to Zhang Baohua's case."

As Xiao Lin was compiling the report, Zhang Kai suddenly pointed to the dental X-ray on the computer: "The impacted third molar morphology perfectly matches that of an employee of Ren Tao's company." He pulled up the missing persons file: "Zhou Ming, 39 years old, electronics engineer, resigned three months ago, matches all the characteristics." As the last sample was labeled, Zhang Kai removed his blood-stained gloves: "The cause of death was mechanical asphyxiation due to strangulation; the blunt force trauma to the back of the head was a near-death experience." He gazed at the body on the autopsy table: "This Zhou Ming, like Zhang Baohua, both wore rings, both worked in the electronics industry; this network is tighter than we thought."

As the night darkness seeped into the autopsy room, Zhang Kai suddenly remembered the fiber samples Yang Lin had sent: "Have the technical department compare the dark blue fibers from the vents with the workwear fabric from Zhou Ming's company." He sensed that these seemingly isolated clues were about to unleash a surprising connection at some point.

Meanwhile, Lu Chuan also made work arrangements for Zhang Hui. He led a group of people to compare the information of construction workers in an attempt to find the identity of the deceased.

The air in the Criminal Investigation Detachment's Information Center was thick with tension. The blue light from the sixteen computer screens made everyone's faces look pale at three in the morning. Zhang Hui rubbed his aching temples, the mouse wheel mechanically scrolling through the missing persons database. Each piece of information was as tedious as copying and pasting—name, gender, date of birth, date of disappearance, dense Song typeface characters distorted into blurry blocks of color before his eyes.

“This is the 732nd entry,” team member Xiao Li leaned back abruptly, his swivel chair creaking loudly. “Can’t this system be optimized? Can’t the screening criteria be more precise, like ‘39-year-old male, electronics industry, history of hip replacement’?” He pointed to the “Zhang Cuihua, 58 years old, square dance leader” that popped up on the screen, and took a big gulp of cold instant coffee. “Now everyone looks like a missing person to me, even the old man selling steamed buns downstairs looks familiar.”

Xiao Wang, working at the next station, was staring blankly at the printer. A4 sheets of paper were being ejected one by one, each containing a comparison chart of the skull reconstruction of the deceased Zhou Ming and photos of missing persons. "This paper is so rough," she muttered, holding up a sheet to the light. The fingerprint comparison frame was blurred into jagged edges. "That last one identified a double eyelid as a wrinkle; all that half an hour of adjusting the settings was wasted." Suddenly, the printer jammed. She yanked hard, tearing half a sheet inside the roller. "Damn! I have to take the machine apart again!"

Zhang Hui's gaze lingered on Zhou Ming's household registration information. The man in the photo was wearing blue overalls and had two prominent canine teeth when he smiled. The system showed that he had resigned from Hongye Electronics three months ago and was last seen near Beishan Logistics Park before his disappearance. "Check his social security records," he tapped on Xiao Li's desk, "and see if he has a new social security unit after leaving his previous job."

“I’ve checked Hui Ge eight times,” Xiao Li slammed the mouse on the table. “The social security system shows he’s stopped paying, but there’s a withdrawal record in his housing provident fund account. The amount isn’t much, just enough to buy a used minivan.” He opened the bank statement screenshot. “But the withdrawal location is in the south of the city, seven subway stops away from his home. Why would he go so far to withdraw money?”

The iron gate to the information center was pushed open, and Wang Shuai came in carrying a stack of files. The cold air, mixed with the smell of instant noodles, hit his face. "I've finished checking the surveillance footage around the warehouse," he said, slamming the files on the table with a dull thud from the plastic covers. "Two of the three cameras were broken, and the remaining one had been filming spider webs against the wall for six months." He snatched Xiao Li's coffee and took a big gulp. "The security guard said he saw a silver-gray van loitering around the warehouse entrance last Wednesday. The license plate was covered in mud; all he could make out was 'Liaoning A'."

“Add a filter,” Zhang Hui typed into the system: “Liaoning A license plate, used minivan, ownership transferred within the last three months.” Over two hundred results instantly appeared. “Search them separately, focusing on whether the owner has experience working in an electronics factory.” His fingers flew across the keyboard, suddenly stopping on one record—the owner's registered name was “Zhao Gang,” but the ID number was clearly forged. (End of Chapter)