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

Zhang Kai pushed up his glasses, his fingertip lingering on the pancreas photo: "The mortality rate of acute severe pancreatitis is very high. Even if you are sent to the hospital in time, there is still a 30% mortality rate. Zheng Qiang's case was explosive, and it may have only taken 1-2 hours from onset to death," he analyzed. "The fact that there was no obvious life reaction in the suture groove is more likely to be caused by dragging after death or during the dying period. I tend to believe the first possibility, but I cannot rule out that the dispute induced or accelerated the death."

Yang Lin suddenly remembered something and pulled up a photo of Liu Laosi's tricycle. There was a fresh dent on the edge of the cargo bed: "The collision marks here match the curvature of Zheng Qiang's truck's rear bumper, so it may have been scraped." He magnified the fiber residue in the dent, "Dark blue, containing 70% cotton and 30% polyester, which is exactly the same as the composition of Zheng Qiang's work clothes." This discovery was like a key, instantly unlocking everyone's thinking.

“I tend to think it was an accident and a cover-up,” Li Bing suddenly put down his pen, his chair scraping half an inch off the floor. “Liu Laosi may have encountered Zheng Qiang, who was ill, in a blind spot of the surveillance cameras. The two got into another argument because of last year’s rear-end collision dispute. Zheng Qiang suddenly fainted, and Liu Laosi, afraid of getting into trouble, dragged him into the cellar with a rope, faking an accidental death.” He pointed to the cigarette butts in the photos of the scene, “Hongtashan brand, the same brand that Liu Laosi usually smokes, which means he stayed in the vicinity after disposing of the body.”

Xiao Zhou suddenly noticed something unusual in Liu Laosi's scrap metal purchase records: "On May 16th, the day after Zheng Qiang's death, Liu Laosi sold a batch of scrap metal, including a piece of bumper fragment from a Dongfeng truck, still stained with dark blue paint—the same color as Zheng Qiang's truck!" This discovery caused a sudden surge of discussion in the meeting room, and Lu Chuan immediately made a decision: "Investigate! Summon Liu Laosi immediately and focus on questioning him about his whereabouts on the night of May 15th, the details of his dispute with Zheng Qiang, and the whereabouts of the tricycle!"

Zhang Hui added, "At the same time, we need to investigate Zheng Qiang's social connections to see if he had any other enemies; retrieve all surveillance footage from the Wangjiagou area, especially the trajectory of Liu Laosi's tricycle; the technical department will also carefully examine Zheng Qiang's truck to look for any possible traces of conflict." He held the last cigarette in his hand, "In addition, Zheng Qiang's cousin said that he recently partnered with someone to 'do some business,' which may be related to his high-fat dinner. We need to investigate who he met before he died."

As dawn broke, it gradually filled the conference table, casting interplay of light and shadow on everyone's faces. Lu Chuan emptied the remaining tea from the enamel mug, the clanging sound startling everyone: "Liu Laosi is the breakthrough, but we can't rule out other possibilities. Remember, we need a chain of evidence, not assumptions." He put Zheng Qiang's photo into a file folder; the smile in the photo gradually blurred in the shadows. "This truck driver's final journey needs to be addressed."

When the meeting ended, Xiao Zhou's notebook was filled with four full pages, each entry marked with a question mark and an exclamation mark. Yang Lin carried the photos from the scene towards the technical department. The motion-activated lights in the corridor turned on with his footsteps, illuminating the four gilded characters "Enforcing the Law for the People" on the wall. Zhang Kai took off his gloves, which were stained with iodine, the smell of formaldehyde still lingering on his fingertips. He thought of the scar on Zheng Qiang's left forearm—the mark from being caught in a container three years ago. Ultimately, it couldn't withstand this sudden illness and the darkness deep within people's hearts.

Liu Laosi's summons had been filled out, and Lu Chuan signed his name in the issuing section. The sound of the pen gliding across the paper seemed to herald the upcoming confrontation. The soil of Wangjiagou held too many secrets, and at this moment, sunlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating the path leading to the truth.

Under the old locust tree at the entrance of Wangjiagou Village, Liu Laosi's tricycle was still parked where he had collected recyclables yesterday, the bed piled high with beer bottles and cardboard boxes like a crooked little mountain. As Wang Shuai approached with two police officers, the old man was binding cardboard with wire, his rough fingers weaving intricate knots into the wire, his movements displaying the dexterity unique to fishermen. "Grandpa Liu, come with us to the station. There are some things we need to understand," Wang Shuai said, his voice as gentle as possible, his gaze falling on a fresh dent on the edge of the tricycle bed—a striking match to the curve of Zheng Qiang's truck bumper.

The fluorescent lights in the interrogation room hummed, and Liu Laosi's blue cloth jacket was still stained with rust and oil. He placed his straw hat on the corner of the table, revealing his sun-darkened forehead, and the age spot on his left eyebrow looked like a faded mole under the light. "Officer, I haven't broken the law," he said, twirling his fingers on the edge of his straw hat, crushing the straw into fine powder. "I even helped Widow Li haul cabbages yesterday. You can ask her."

Wang Shuai pushed the calendar for May 15th in front of him, the date circled in red like a bloodshot eye. "Where were you that night, from eight o'clock to midnight?" Liu Laosi's Adam's apple bobbed suddenly. He picked up the enamel mug on the table and took a sip of cold water, the limescale at the bottom sinking with the movement. "I was...watching the nets at the fishpond at the west end of the village," his voice suddenly became shrill, "Recently, someone has been stealing fish, so I kept watch for half the night."

"Who can testify?" Wang Shuai's pen hovered over the notebook, the ink from the nib spreading across the words "fishpond." Liu Laosi counted on his withered fingers: "Zhang Laowu, he guarded it with me, and we even drank Erguotou together in the middle of the night." He suddenly slapped his thigh, "By the way, the surveillance camera by the fishpond can capture me. The village secretary installed it last year to prevent fish theft."

Police officers who reviewed the fishpond surveillance footage quickly reported back: At 7:50 PM on May 15th, Liu Laosi entered the surveillance area on a tricycle, the back of which was loaded with fishing nets and a small stool; at 8:15 PM, Zhang Laowu appeared carrying a bottle of liquor; the two stayed in the shack until 1:20 AM, during which time Zhang Laowu only went out to urinate once, for no more than three minutes. "The surveillance time completely overlaps with Zheng Qiang's disappearance window," the technical department's reply flashed on Wang Shuai's phone, "and it takes 40 minutes to walk from the shack to the body disposal site, so there isn't enough time for a round trip."

But the dent in the tricycle still lingered in Wang Shuai's mind. "How did you get this dent in your tricycle bed?" he asked, pointing to the photo. Liu Laosi squinted and leaned closer to look, then suddenly laughed. "Oh, this? I crashed into it last Wednesday," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I wasn't looking where I was going when I was collecting scrap, and I bumped into the old locust tree at the village entrance. I even scraped off a piece of the bark." Wang Shuai immediately sent officers to verify the information. Half an hour later, news came back: there was indeed a fresh scratch on the trunk of the old locust tree, and the remaining blue paint matched the color of the tricycle bed. The wood chips at the scratch were dated within the last seven days.

Zhang Hui also made a new discovery. "The bumper fragments Liu Laosi sold," he said wearily on the phone. (End of Chapter)