frightfiction Chapter 1110 Case Debate: Opinions Expressed
Chapter 1110 Case Debate: Opinions Expressed
Xiao Zhou pushed 1243 missing persons files to the center of the table, the excluded names gleaming white under the light. “Wang Jianjun is excluded because the time of disappearance doesn’t match; Li Wei is excluded because his height is 7 centimeters off; Liu Zhiqiang is excluded because his bank statements were interrupted in 2021; Chen Gang is excluded because his tattoos don’t match,” his finger paused on the cancelled file for “Zhao Hongwei,” “but there are doubts about his 2015 car accident file: no body was found at the accident scene, he was declared dead only based on bloodstains and vehicle wreckage; the 50 yuan insurance payout received by his family was transferred to Hongwei Building Materials’ corporate account six months later.”
He suddenly pulled up a screenshot of the social security system: "From 2018 to 2022, there was a social security record for a 'temporary worker' at Hongwei Building Materials. The name field was filled with 'Zhao Hong,' and the ID number was forged. However, the insured photo showed a blurry tattoo on the left chest and a ring-shaped scar on the right wrist, which perfectly matched the deceased's characteristics." The projector switched to the photo comparison interface, and the profile of "Zhao Hong" overlapped with the man in the noodle shop's surveillance footage by 89%.
Li Ming's fingers tapped rhythmically on the table, creating a strange resonance with the ticking of the wall clock. "There are several key questions now," he said, tracing the edge of his enamel mug over the forensic report on the "size 42 unfamiliar shoe print," "First, who is this 165cm tall accomplice? Why was he at the scene? Second, was Zhao Hongwei's 'death' staged? If he's still alive, what is his relationship with Hongwei Building Materials? Third, where are the heavy-duty wrench and hacksaw that were missing from the scene hidden?"
Xiao Yang immediately chimed in, "I think we should re-examine the railway line." He pulled up the metal shavings analysis report from the rail joints. "The high-carbon steel composition matches the wrench, and the unlocked status of the switch indicates the murderer was familiar with the railway system. I suggest using a metal detector to search a 50-meter radius around the tracks, especially the abnormal soil areas near the abandoned oil drum piles, where the murder weapon might be buried." He added, "The circular granular texture of a size 42 shoe print is common among local construction teams; we can investigate construction workers around the steel mill."
Zhang Lin opened the supplementary autopsy report: "The rice and vegetables in the deceased's stomach contents, after plant-derived DNA analysis, perfectly matched the ingredients at 'Old Zhang's Noodle Shop.'" He circled the timestamp of "7:12 PM on July 15th" in red pen. "Based on the degree of digestion, the time of death should be around 10 PM that night, which coincides with the time when the watch stopped. It is recommended to conduct a full toxicological analysis of the stomach contents to rule out the possibility of poisoning, and at the same time expand the scope of DNA comparison of skin tissue fragments under the fingernails, especially Zhao Hongwei's relatives and friends."
Xiao Wang's pen drew an arc on the informant's testimony: "Liu Laowu mentioned that the truck's tires made a 'squeaking sound' when it drove away that night, which may have been due to overloading or a tire blowout." He pulled up the maintenance records of the surrounding roads, "At 2 a.m. on July 16, there was an emergency parking lane on the national highway 3 kilometers west of the steel plant. There were fresh oil stains on the road surface, which matched the diesel composition of oil drum No. 3 at the scene. It is recommended to investigate the area, as it may find traces of vehicle repairs or dropped physical evidence."
Xiao Zhou suddenly remembered something and pulled out Zhao Hongwei's social security payment records: "The payment base in 2014 shows that his salary at that time was higher than that of ordinary workers." He compared it with the business registration file of Hongwei Building Materials: "The company's legal representative, Zhou Qiang, was the head of the equipment department of the steel plant. After Zhao Hongwei's 'death' in 2015, he took over his shares. The relationship between the two is worth investigating, especially whether Zhou Qiang has any old injuries to his right lower limb - his medical examination report shows that he suffered a right knee ligament injury in 2020, which is consistent with the gait characteristics of a size 43 shoe print."
“And that WeChat account ‘Sui Feng’,” Li Ming pointed to the payment records, “the registered phone number belongs to a virtual operator and cannot be traced, but the login IP shows that it was near the steel mill on the evening of July 15th. I suggest the technical team crack the account’s social relationships, especially the chat history with employees of Hongwei Building Materials.” He suddenly raised his voice, “Tomorrow we will split into four groups: Xiao Yang will lead the technical team to check the railway line and emergency stopping lanes; Zhang Lin will be responsible for toxicology analysis and DNA comparison; Xiao Wang will check Zhou Qiang’s whereabouts and the steel mill’s former employees; Xiao Zhou will re-examine Zhao Hongwei’s ‘death’ case file, focusing on finding witnesses to the car accident.”
The discussion continued until noon, sunlight streaming through the window and casting moving spots of light on the files. Suddenly, Xiao Yang noticed something unusual in the photos of the waste area: "There's half a blurry fingerprint on the inside of the lid of oil drum number 3," he zoomed in on the image, "The direction of the fingerprint lines matches the right index finger of a size 42 shoe print! I suggest extracting this fingerprint and comparing it with Zhou Qiang's employee records—Hongwei Building Materials' attendance sheet has fingerprint records for 17 people, 3 of whom are about 165 cm tall."
Zhang Lin's phone suddenly vibrated. A message from the forensic assistant read: "Trace amounts of phenobarbital were detected in the stomach contents, at a concentration of 0.02 mg/L. This is not a lethal dose; it may be a sleeping pill." This discovery silenced the meeting room instantly. Li Ming slammed his enamel mug heavily on the table: "This means the deceased was drugged that night. It wasn't a sudden argument, but premeditated murder!" He grabbed his coat. "Xiao Zhou, immediately check if Zhao Hongwei has a habit of taking sleeping pills; Xiao Wang, go to 'Old Zhang's Noodle Shop' and verify if any suspicious individuals had contact with the deceased on the night of July 15th."
The magnificent tattoo on the curtain gleamed coldly in the sunlight, overlapping with Zhou Qiang's signature. While packing up his investigation equipment, Xiao Yang noticed the laser pointer's beam formed a strange angle at the railway crossing—an angle perfectly positioned to see the oil drums in the scrap yard. The killer could have easily monitored whether the body had been discovered from this spot. He suddenly realized: "The killer knows the steel plant's blind spots inside and out; he must be an insider, or… it's Zhou Qiang himself."
Li Ming took one last look at the clue diagram on the wall: size 43 shoe print, Zhao Hongwei's "death" file, Zhou Qiang's shareholding change record, half an oil drum fingerprint... These fragments were slowly piecing together the outline of the truth. "Meeting adjourned," he said, grabbing the file. "By this time tomorrow, I want to see Zhou Qiang's alibi, Zhao Hongwei's true whereabouts, and that hidden wrench."
As the meeting room door closed, sunlight shone on the "Next Steps in the Investigation" list, each item circled in red: metal detection along the railway line, Zhou Qiang's gait analysis, tracking virtual phone numbers, the source of phenobarbital… These fragmented clues would eventually piece together the secret concealed for eight years amidst the rust and oil stains of the steel mill. And at this very moment, perhaps beneath an oil drum in the scrap yard, lay the key to unlocking everything, waiting to be discovered under the blazing sun.
As Xiao Wang's police car rolled over the gravel road in Zhao Village, the ruts still held the puddles from the rain of the previous days. The mud-brick house of Zhao Hongwei's father was bathed in a warm yellow glow in the setting sun, and morning glories at the base of the wall entwined the faded "Family of Honor" plaque, the water droplets on the petals refracting tiny glimmers of light.