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

Zhang Hui conducted a final inspection of the "Fugui Pavilion" private room. The chips on the gambling table had been sealed. Underneath the chair where Zheng Guobin had sat, there was a fallen silver button, matching the style of the button on Chen Gang's jacket. Next to the beer bottles on the floor, several black fibers were scattered, preliminarily matching the fiber composition extracted from Chen Gang's fingernails. "Take all of these back to the branch for further testing," Zhang Hui told the technicians, then turned and walked out of the basement.

As Zheng Guobin was being led into the police car, his head hung low, his black work boots leaving a shallow trail on the ground. His hair was disheveled, his face smeared with cigarette ash, and his former arrogance was completely gone. "Why did you kill Chen Gang?" Zhang Hui, sitting in the passenger seat, turned to look at him. Zheng Guobin remained silent for a long time before whispering, "He forced me to pay back the money, and even said he would call the police to arrest me... I had no choice but to..." He was interrupted by his own sobs before he could finish.

The police car slowly drove away from the casino, the abandoned warehouse in the night gradually disappearing from the rearview mirror. Zhang Hui looked at the streetlights flashing past the window, knowing that arresting Zheng Guobin was only the first step; the subsequent interrogation was the key to uncovering the truth behind Chen Gang's murder. He took out his phone and sent a message to Lu Chuan: "Zheng Guobin has been arrested and is being brought back to the branch. Buttons, fibers, and other evidence have been collected from the scene for further testing." Soon, Lu Chuan replied: "Okay, I'll be waiting for you at the branch. Be prepared for the interrogation."

The carriage was silent except for Zheng Guobin's suppressed sobs and the roar of the car engine. Zhang Hui watched Zheng Guobin's retreating figure, recalling Chen Gang's gentle smile and the way Chen Gang's daughter had broken down while identifying the photograph. He secretly resolved: he would make Zheng Guobin confess to the crime in its entirety, giving Chen Gang's family a satisfactory explanation and ensuring that justice was served.

The incandescent light in the interrogation room of the Criminal Investigation Detachment was glaringly cold. Zheng Guobin sat in a metal chair, his hands cuffed, his black work boots scraping softly on the floor. From the moment he was brought into the interrogation room until now, he had kept his head down, his bangs obscuring his eyes. Only when Zhang Hui pushed a glass of warm water in front of him did he glance up briefly before quickly lowering his eyes again—the steam rising from the water seemed unable to dispel the chill emanating from him.

“Zheng Guobin, tell me, where were you on the night of August 15th, and what were you doing?” Zhang Hui’s voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable penetrating force. Across the interrogation table, Zheng Guobin’s fingers twitched, his Adam’s apple bobbed, but he remained silent. Zhang Hui continued, “Your debt dispute with Chen Gang was witnessed by all the neighbors in the community. You even had a fight on August 12th, and you said, ‘If you keep pushing me, you’ll regret it.’ Did you say that?”

“I said it, but I didn’t kill him!” Zheng Guobin finally spoke, his voice hoarse as if it had been sanded. “I just argued with him a few times, said some harsh words in the heat of the moment, how could I have really killed him? I was gambling at the casino on the night of the 15th, many people can testify to that!” He suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot, trying to use anger to cover up his panic. “You can’t conclude that I killed him based on a few harsh words, that’s a false accusation!”

Zhang Hui wasn't swayed by his emotions. He took a photo from the file folder and pushed it in front of Zheng Guobin—the photo showed his black Changan CS75 PLUS, with a broken taillight and clearly visible scratches on the rear bumper. "Is this your car? Someone saw this car near the garbage transfer station on Heping Road at 10 pm on August 15th. It seemed like there was heavy stuff in the trunk. Can you explain that?"

Zheng Guobin's gaze lingered on the photo for a few seconds before quickly shifting away: "I... I did drive to Heping Road that day, but I was picking up a friend, I didn't go to any garbage transfer station! The trunk contained my friend's luggage, nothing heavy!" He repeatedly rubbed his fingers against the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. "You can ask my friend, he can vouch for me!"

"Who is this friend you're talking about? What's his name? What's his contact information?" Zhang Hui pressed, but Zheng Guobin stammered, "He... he's from out of town. I forgot his name, and I've lost his contact information..." This flimsy answer instantly made the atmosphere in the interrogation room tense. Zhang Hui looked at him, his eyes sharpening, "Forgot his name? Lost his contact information? Do you think that's believable?"

Next, Zhang Hui produced the second piece of evidence—the vehicle inspection record. “We extracted a small amount of brown soil from inside the trunk of your car. Testing showed it was completely consistent with the soil found on Chen Gang’s trousers, both originating from an abandoned factory in the suburbs; the fingerprints on the car door handles matched the palm print extracted from the compression box at the Heping Road garbage transfer station with 100% accuracy,” he pointed to the identification results in the record. “How do you explain this evidence?”

Zheng Guobin's body stiffened visibly, his previously tense shoulders slumped, his head drooped even lower, and his voice weakened: "I don't know... maybe it was dirt I accidentally picked up when I drove past the factory; fingerprints... maybe they were left when I went to the transfer station to throw away the trash, and have nothing to do with Chen Gang's death..." His explanations became increasingly weak, and his eyes darted away, not daring to look at Zhang Hui.

Zhang Hui didn't stop there, and produced a third piece of evidence—witness testimonies. "Aunt Wang from room 401 saw you push Chen Gang against the wall on the evening of August 12th; Mr. Zhang from room 202 saw you conspiring with a strange man at the entrance of the residential area on the afternoon of August 14th; and the driver at the Didi driver's rest stop saw you wearing this black jacket when you argued with Chen Gang on August 10th," he pushed the testimonies in front of Zheng Guobin. "These witnesses can all testify in court. Are you still going to continue to make excuses?"

Zheng Guobin's breathing became rapid, his hands began to tremble slightly, and tears slid down his cheeks, dripping onto the interrogation record and blurring the ink. "I...I didn't mean to kill him..." His voice trembled with sobs as he finally confessed, "He forced me to do it. He insisted I pay back that 5 yuan, and he even threatened to call the police and have me arrested. I have so much gambling debt; if I get arrested, my family will be completely ruined..."

Zhang Hui didn't interrupt him, but instead handed him a tissue: "Explain what happened clearly. This is your only chance to get leniency." Zheng Guobin took the tissue, wiped his tears, and began to recount his story haltingly: "On the afternoon of August 15th, I used a virtual number to call Chen Gang's Didi (ride-hailing service) and asked him to take me to the abandoned factory, saying I needed to repay him. When I got to the factory, I asked him if I could have a few more days, but he refused and even took out his phone to call the police. I got angry and we started fighting..."

His voice grew increasingly choked with emotion: "I hit his neck with a steel pipe from the ground. After he fell to the ground, I was afraid he would wake up, so I hit his chest again..." (End of Chapter)