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

“Because that blind spot in the surveillance system can only be entered through the side door,” Zhao Jianguo’s voice was so low it was almost a whisper, “I installed a pinhole camera there, intending to capture evidence of Li Yunfeng stealing, but what I ended up capturing was…” He suddenly couldn’t continue, his shoulders trembling violently. The camera’s memory card was later formatted by Wang Lei, but technicians successfully recovered some of the footage—at 11:58 p.m. on July 12, Zhao Jianguo did indeed appear at the garage entrance, watching Song Yao and Wang Lei drag Li Yunfeng away, before silently turning and leaving.

As Zhao Jianguo was being escorted away, he suddenly turned back to look at the word "Justice" on the wall of the interrogation room. The sunlight reflecting off the gold ring fell precisely on the dot of the character "义" (righteousness). Wang Shuai picked up the ring from the ground; the inside was engraved with "2015.03.17"—the day Li Yunfeng joined Shengda Trading. This shrewd and calculating man in the business world ultimately never expected that he would be brought down by the forklift driver he trusted most.

The fluorescent lights in the corridor emitted their final buzzing sound and went out completely. Wang Shuai watched as the doors to the three interrogation rooms closed one after another. Song Yao's Longines watch, Wang Lei's platinum ring, and Zhao Jianguo's gold ring reflected the same cold light in the evidence bags. This storm, stirred up by greed, betrayal, and hatred, finally settled under the incandescent lights of the interrogation rooms, leaving only the blood-stained ledger, silently telling the story of a forklift driver's final struggle on the evidence shelf.

As the iron gate of the pig farm was forced open, rust crumbled in the morning light. Lu Chuan walked forward through the pig manure-strewn ground, his rubber boots sinking half a foot into the mud. The stench of manure mixed with the smell of disinfectant filled his nostrils, making him wince involuntarily. The fence at the far east end of the pigpen had been dismantled. Chen Jianfeng squatted in the corner, his hands wrapped around his knees, a few white pig hairs still clinging to his work pants, which were soaked with manure.

"Did you find the person?" Wang Shuai handed over the thermos, the hot water rippling inside. "Tell me slowly, don't rush." ​​Chen Jianfeng's fingers trembled violently, and he didn't even notice the hot water splashing onto his hands when he unscrewed the lid. "I came to feed the pigs around five in the morning. The pigs in the third pen were particularly noisy. I thought they were fighting, so I opened the fence to take a look..." He suddenly gagged, the acid in his stomach rising to his throat. "I saw a person lying by the trough, his face buried in the pig feed, not moving at all."

Yang Lin, wearing double gloves, squatted on the cement platform in the center of the pigpen. "The deceased was male, preliminarily estimated to be between 30 and 40 years old," he said, his flashlight beam sweeping over the body. "He was wearing dark blue overalls, the second button on his shirt was missing, and the back pockets of his jeans were turned inside out, as if he had been searched." He measured the distance from the body to the fence with a ruler. "1.7 meters. There are obvious drag marks in the pig manure around it, about 60 centimeters wide, and the edges show signs of being trampled."

Yang Sen was inspecting the fence latches, which had fresh scratches on the iron ones. "These latches were locked from the outside," he said, taking a picture of the scratches. "There's a broken key in the lock cylinder, like it was forcibly pried open." On the inner side of the fence, there were several pieces of dark blue fabric fibers, which looked like the material of the deceased's shirt. "There's a dent here, like it was hit with a heavy object, and there's a brown shoelace stuck in the sawdust."

Wang Shuai had already drawn a simple map of the farm in his notebook, marking the locations of the seven pigpens. "Who usually has a key here?" he asked Chen Jianfeng, circling the words "Third Pen" with his pen. "Besides you, have any strangers come here recently?" Chen Jianfeng suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot. "A pig buyer came last week, haggled with me, argued fiercely, and even kicked the pigpen door." He pointed to a dent in the fence, "That spot is about the same as where he kicked it!"

Yang Lin shone his flashlight on the edge of the feeding trough, where there was a blurry footprint. The forefoot had a diamond pattern, and the heel showed obvious wear. "Size 44, like a work shoe," he said, carefully pouring a mixture of plaster powder and water into the trough. "But the footprint has been trampled into a mess by the pig; I can only extract part of the pattern." The pig feed in the trough had already begun to ferment, with a layer of green foam floating on the surface. To the right of the carcass was a broken beer bottle, with dark red traces still clinging to the shards.

"Did you hear anything last night?" Wang Shuai pressed, his gaze falling on the security camera in the corner of the pigpen. "Is this camera working properly?" Chen Jianfeng shook his head, his voice hoarse. "It's been broken for half a month. I've had it repaired twice, but it's still not fixed." He suddenly remembered something. "But around 3 a.m., I heard a pig in the third pen squealing really loudly, like it was frightened. It was too cold at the time, and I was too lazy to get up and check. If only I had known..."

Yang Sen found tire tracks in the mud outside the pigpen, with two parallel indentations extending to the entrance of the farm. "The tires were about 20 centimeters wide and 1.5 meters apart, which is consistent with the wheelbase of a small truck," he said, measuring the depth of the tracks with his hand. "They were very deep, which means the truck was carrying a heavy load, and there was a sign of sudden braking at the entrance. The tire treads were horizontal stripes, which is very similar to those of a truck used for collecting pigs."

Yang Lin suddenly shouted, "Come and take a look at this!" He pulled a deformed lighter from the body's pocket. The words "Hongwei Building Materials" were engraved on the metal casing. "This brand of lighter is very common in the nearby building materials market. Maybe we can find out the deceased's identity." He put the lighter into the evidence bag, which was labeled "Sample A-01, extracted from the deceased's right pocket".

Wang Shuai helped Chen Jianfeng to his feet. The wind from the farm carried the stench of the pigsties, and the squeals of pigs from other pens could be heard in the distance. "What's the name of that pig buyer?" He wrote "pig buyer" in the notebook. "When will he come again?" Chen Jianfeng shook his head: "I don't know his name, I just know he drives a small white truck, the last three digits of the license plate are 789. He said last week that he would come again this Wednesday, which is today."

Yang Lin and Yang Sen summarized the investigation results: drag marks, a broken key, dark blue fibers, brown shoelaces, size 44 work boot prints, tire tracks, and a lighter engraved with "Hongwei Building Materials". "It looks like it was someone who knew the perpetrator," Yang Lin said, his flashlight beam stopping at a dent in the fence. "They knew the surveillance was broken, yet they still managed to pry open the lock and get in. They had a clear target."

Lu Chuan stood at the entrance of the farm, gazing at the distant highway. The pig manure on his rubber boots had frozen into hard lumps. "Yang Sen, check the white truck whose license plate ends in 789, focusing on the pig buyer; Yang Lin, take the fibers and shoelaces collected at the scene back to the lab and compare them with the deceased's clothing; Wang Shuai, continue questioning Chen Jianfeng to see if the pig buyer has any distinctive features." (End of Chapter)