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

The incandescent lights in the Criminal Investigation Division's interrogation room were blindingly bright, casting a direct beam of light on Zhang Jianjun's face, revealing the panic in his eyes and his feigned composure. He sat in the metal interrogation chair, his hands handcuffed to the armrests, the cuffs of his black casual wear still stained with grease from the restaurant—just hours before, he had been enjoying braised pork at the "Old Place" restaurant, but now he was a suspect in intentional homicide and smuggling of ordinary goods. Facing the serious-looking Wang Shuai and Zhang Hui behind the interrogation table, his body involuntarily tensed.

"Name, age, occupation." Wang Shuai's voice was calm yet carried an undeniable authority. His pen tapped lightly on the record paper, producing a crisp sound that broke the silence of the interrogation room. Zhang Jianjun's Adam's apple bobbed, and he slightly raised his head, but dared not meet Wang Shuai's gaze. His voice was hoarse, as if sanded: "Zhang Jianjun, 42 years old, property manager of Haotian Building." His fingers repeatedly rubbed against the handrail, his knuckles turning white from the pressure, clearly trying to maintain a facade of composure, while his mind raced: as long as he stubbornly denied everything, the police might not have enough evidence to convict him.

"Where were you between 10 and 11 pm on August 22nd? What were you doing?" Wang Shuai went straight to the point, his gaze fixed on Zhang Jianjun's face, scrutinizing every subtle expression. Zhang Jianjun suddenly looked up, a flicker of panic in his eyes, which he quickly suppressed, his tone deliberately angry: "I was sleeping at home! What right do you have to arrest me? Just because I'm the property manager, and Li Zhiguo died in the parking lot, you suspect me? This is absurd!" His shoulders were tense, as if ready to resist at any moment. "I have an alibi, my wife can testify, I didn't leave the house at all that night!"

“We have verified your wife’s testimony,” Zhang Hui said, taking out a transcript and pushing it in front of Zhang Jianjun. “She did say you were home that night, but she fell asleep at 10 p.m., so she can’t prove where you were after 10 p.m. Moreover, we retrieved the surveillance footage from Jinxiu Garden Community. At 8:30 p.m. on August 22, you drove a black Toyota Camry without license plates out of the community and didn’t return until 1 a.m. How do you explain this car?”

Zhang Jianjun's body stiffened visibly, his eyes darting away from the statement, and his voice weakened: "That...that car wasn't mine, it belonged to a friend of mine. He asked me to take it for maintenance, and I...I just went out for a drive, I didn't go to Haotian Building." His lies were full of holes, yet he still tried to struggle, comforting himself: as long as he didn't admit to going to the parking lot, the police couldn't directly link him to the corpse.

Wang Shuai wasn't swayed by his sophistry. He pulled out the first piece of evidence from the case file—a photo of a Toyota Camry. The white scratches on the right side of the car and the non-functional right taillight were clearly visible in the photo. "We found the bumper fragments of this car near the elevator shaft on the B2 floor of the Haotian Building," Wang Shuai pointed to the location of the fragments in the photo. "The fingerprints on the fragments, after enhancement processing, perfectly match the fingerprint features you left due to your traffic violation; the tire tracks also perfectly match the suspicious tire tracks in the parking lot. Still trying to deny it?"

Zhang Jianjun's breathing became rapid, and fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead, sliding down his cheeks and dripping onto the interrogation record. "I... I was just driving for a friend, I don't know how the car ended up there, maybe someone else drove it there..." His voice began to tremble, and his fingers unconsciously dug into the gaps in the armrest. The first crack appeared in his psychological defenses—he hadn't expected the police to find even vehicle fragments and fingerprints.

Zhang Hui then produced a second piece of evidence—a DNA test report: "We extracted skin tissue fragments from the ventilation ducts in the underground parking lot of Haotian Building. The test results showed a 99.99% match with your DNA. The black cotton and linen fibers in the ducts are completely consistent with the cotton and linen rope fibers found in your storage room. There are also suspected bloodstains on this rope. What do you think is going on?" He pushed a photo of the cotton and linen rope in front of Zhang Jianjun, and the brown stains on the rope were clearly visible.

Upon seeing the photo, Zhang Jianjun's body trembled violently, his face turned deathly pale, and his eyes were filled with terror. "No...it wasn't me...that rope was what I used to tie things up, the bloodstains were probably from an accidental cut on my hand..." His voice trembled with sobs, and he began to speak incoherently, his last shred of hope crumbling away—the DNA and fibrous evidence were too direct; he simply couldn't explain it.

Wang Shuai presented a third piece of evidence—bank transaction records: "On August 18, you transferred 5000 yuan to Li Zhiguo using your wife's account. How do you explain this 'hush money'? On August 23, you transferred 100,000 yuan to an overseas account with the note 'payment for goods,' but this account's flow of funds is consistent with that of smuggled funds. Are you transferring illegal proceeds?"

These words struck Zhang Jianjun like a blow to the heart. He abruptly lowered his head, buried his face in his hands, and let out a suppressed sob. "I... I just wanted Li Zhiguo to mind his own business. That 5000 yuan was a subsidy for him, not hush money..." His defense grew increasingly weak, tears mixed with cold sweat dripping onto his trousers. He knew in his heart that the evidence was enough to link him to the case, and further denial would only make things more embarrassing. But he still clung to a last glimmer of hope, unwilling to admit to the murder.

Zhang Hui produced the last piece of evidence—a recorded testimony from Zhang Qiang. He pressed play, and Zhang Qiang's voice echoed in the interrogation room: "Zhang Jianjun is 'Brother Zhang.' We smuggled cigarettes and counterfeit alcohol through the ventilation ducts. When Li Zhiguo discovered this and wanted to call the police, Zhang Jianjun said, 'We have to get rid of him, or we'll all be in jail...'" After the recording finished playing, Zhang Hui turned off the player and said in a serious tone, "Zhang Qiang has confessed everything. He knew about your smuggling scheme and the murder to cover it up. Do you still want to hide it?"

"I was wrong... I didn't mean to kill him! He forced me to!" Zhang Jianjun suddenly broke down, covering his face with his hands and wailing, his psychological defenses completely crumbling. His shoulders trembled violently, tears streaming through his fingers, unable to maintain his composure any longer. After crying for a long time, he slowly raised his head, his face streaked with tears, his eyes filled with regret and despair: "I didn't want to kill him, but he insisted on calling the police, I had no choice..."

Wang Shuai handed him a tissue, gesturing for him to continue. Zhang Jianjun wiped away his tears and haltingly recounted his motive: "Starting in March of this year, I collaborated with Zhang Qiang and his group to smuggle cigarettes and counterfeit alcohol, transporting them through the ventilation ducts on the B2 floor of the Haotian Building. Each time, we could earn tens of thousands of yuan. Li Zhiguo is a parking lot security guard. On the night of August 20th, he discovered us moving goods during his patrol and immediately said he would call the police. I was terrified and quickly asked Zhang Qiang for 5000 yuan as hush money, but he said, 'This is illegal, you must call the police,' and even said he would report us for tax evasion to the tax bureau..." (End of Chapter)