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

The lights in the interrogation room of the Criminal Investigation Detachment were as cold as ice. Zhou Ming sat on the metal interrogation chair, his hands firmly handcuffed to the armrests. He wore a wrinkled black coat, the collar still stained with restaurant grease, his hair disheveled and plastered to his forehead, but his eyes held a deliberate stubbornness—when he was first brought in, he was shouting in the corridor, "You've arrested the wrong person!" Now, facing Zhang Hui behind the interrogation table, this stubbornness concealed an unconcealable panic, his fingers unconsciously rubbing against his knees, leaving shallow marks.

Zhang Hui opened the file in front of him, tapped the "Bloodstained Brick Test Report" lightly with his fingertips, and said in a calm but penetrating voice: "Zhou Ming, name, age, occupation, and where you were and what you did between 8 pm and 2 am 6 days ago, do I need to repeat that?"

Zhou Ming's Adam's apple bobbed violently, and he tilted his head to one side, avoiding Zhang Hui's gaze. His voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible: "My name is Zhou Ming, I'm 42 years old, and I run a Sichuan-style restaurant. That night, I was doing the accounts at the restaurant, and I went home around 10 p.m. It has nothing to do with Li Shengli, so please don't wrong me..." His shoulders trembled slightly, and when he said "it has nothing to do with me," his voice noticeably weakened. His eyes unconsciously darted towards the corner of the interrogation room, as if he were trying to avoid something.

"Settling accounts at a restaurant?" Zhang Hui picked up a photo and pushed it in front of Zhou Ming. The photo showed a black tool bag in a pile of construction waste at a demolition site, with the words "Sichuan Flavor" clearly visible on it. "This is the tool bag that Li Shengli was carrying when he disappeared. His wife confirmed that the 'Sichuan Flavor' embroidery on it is the logo of your restaurant. The technical department extracted your fingerprints from the bag strap and zipper. How do you explain that?"

Zhou Ming's body stiffened abruptly, as if all his strength had been drained away. His carefully maintained composure crumbled instantly. He stared at the toolbox in the photo, his lips trembling, unable to utter a word for a long time. His face slowly turned from pale to ashen, and large beads of sweat slid down his forehead, dripping onto the interrogation record and spreading into a small patch. "I...I just helped Li Shengli repair the kitchen equipment before, and I touched his toolbox. The fingerprints might have been left then, but that doesn't prove I killed him!" He suddenly raised his voice, as if trying to bolster his courage, but his clenched hands betrayed his nervousness; his knuckles turned white from the force.

"Help him repair the kitchen equipment?" Zhang Hui produced a second piece of evidence—Zhao Gang's testimony. "Your childhood friend Zhao Gang said that around 8 p.m. six days ago, you went to the demolition site he was in charge of and said you 'needed to pick up something.' After that, you took bricks and went with Li Shengli towards the drainage ditch. The 'things' you picked up were the bricks you used to injure Li Shengli, right?"

Zhou Ming suddenly burst into tears. He covered his face with his hands, his shoulders trembling violently, and suppressed sobs escaped from between his fingers: "No! I just went to the construction site to drink with Zhao Gang, I didn't take any bricks! Zhao Gang is mistaken, he must be mistaken!" His cries were filled with despair, but he dared not look up at Zhang Hui, as if he could overturn the evidence as long as he didn't admit it.

Zhang Hui didn't rush to ask further questions. Instead, he produced a third piece of evidence—a photo of a brown cotton work jacket: "This jacket, found in the kitchen cabinet of your restaurant, has the same fiber composition as the coarse brown fibers found at the scene of the drainage ditch. There are also a few dark red stains on the cuffs that haven't been cleaned properly. Tests have shown that they are Li Shengli's bloodstains. You say you didn't kill him, so how come his bloodstains are on your clothes?"

These words were like a sharp knife, instantly piercing through Zhou Ming's last pretense. His crying suddenly stopped, he lowered his hands from his face, his eyes were bloodshot and filled with fear and regret. "I was wrong... I shouldn't have killed him... He forced me to..." His voice was broken, his body shaking violently with agitation, the handcuffs clanging against the armrests, the sound particularly jarring in the silent interrogation room.

Zhang Hui handed Zhou Ming a tissue and waited for him to calm down a bit before slowly saying, "Tell me the whole story, including why you killed him, how you tricked him into going to the demolition site, how you injured him and strangled him, and how you disposed of the body. If you confess now, you can still get leniency. Don't try to hide anything; we have all the evidence."

Zhou Ming wiped away his tears, took a deep breath, and began to speak haltingly, his voice thick with nasal congestion: "I owe Li Shengli three months' wages, a total of 1.5 yuan. He asks me for it every day, but my restaurant's business has been bad these past two years, and I simply don't have the money to pay him. A while ago, he said, 'If you don't pay me, I'll report you to the labor department and the market supervision bureau, saying my restaurant's hygiene is substandard.' I know he means what he says. If he really does report me, my restaurant will definitely be shut down, and my family will have no way to survive..."

He paused, a glint of ruthlessness flashing in his eyes: "I thought, why not find a way to shut him up? I know he's an honest man; as long as there's work to do and he can get paid, he'll definitely go. Six days ago, in the afternoon, I called him and said, 'The exhaust system at the suburban branch is broken. Go and fix it. I'll pay you 5000 yuan after you're done, and the rest later.' He agreed without even thinking about it."

"You don't even have any branches in the suburbs, do you?" Zhang Hui pressed, his pen scribbling rapidly in his notebook.

Zhou Ming nodded, his voice even lower: "No, I was just lying to him. I told him we'd meet at the demolition site at 8 p.m. It was a remote place with few people, making it easier to make a move. Around 7 p.m., I went to the site to find Zhao Gang and said I'd 'get something,' but actually I just wanted to find a brick. Zhao Gang didn't ask any questions and let me in. I picked up a sturdy red brick in a corner of the site, hid it in my clothes, and then waited for Li Shengli at the site."

"What happened between you after he arrived?" Zhang Hui continued to press, his tone heavy.

Zhou Ming's body began to tremble again, as if recalling the terrifying scene: "Around 8 p.m., Li Shengli came with his tool bag and asked me, 'Where is the smoke extraction equipment?' I told him, 'It's behind the construction site, come with me.' When we got to the construction waste pile on the west side of the site, I took advantage of his inattention, picked up a brick from behind my back, and smashed it down on his head. He screamed and fell to the ground, bleeding profusely from his head."

His voice trailed off, his eyes filled with terror: "I was afraid he wasn't dead, so I hit him again, and he lay motionless on the ground. I panicked, not knowing what to do. After thinking for a long time, I finally remembered to open his toolbox, take out the wrenches and screwdrivers, throw them in the construction site's garbage dump, and then drag his body to my van—I was afraid his tools would leave my fingerprints, and I was also afraid someone would recognize him by the tools." (End of Chapter)