frightfiction Chapter 1101 Arrest of Suspect Zhao Qiang
Chapter 1101 Arrest of Suspect Zhao Qiang
Sun Laosi suddenly became agitated, and the iron chain rattled as he was pulled: "He owes me money! He borrowed 30,000 yuan in 2019, and now he owes me 100,000 yuan with interest. I've been asking him for half a year, and that day I finally caught him at the gas station!"
These words perfectly matched Chen Miao's bank statements—there was indeed a loan record of 11 yuan in 2019, with the creditor listed as "Sun," but subsequent repayment records were intermittent, with the last one not occurring until November 2022. "He said he had no money and told me to go with him to get it," Sun Laosi's voice trembled with tears. "When we drove to the pond, he suddenly said he was going to call the police. I was afraid of being arrested, so I argued with him for a bit, and he drove off. I didn't even chase after him!"
Xiao Wang pulled up Chen Miao's taxi's GPS track, and there was indeed a speeding record at 10:05, which perfectly matched Sun Laosi's description of "driving away." "Then why did you sell the tricycle? Why were you hiding in the pump room?" he pressed, his gaze falling on the hole in Sun Laosi's left sleeve, which matched the hoodie described by the scrap yard owner.
“That scarred guy blocks my house every day,” Sun Laosi said, tears and snot streaming down his face. “If I don’t sell the car, I won’t have the fare to run away. I wear a hoodie to avoid being recognized.” He suddenly remembered something. “Chen Miao’s taxi later drove towards the brick kiln. I heard the engine sound getting farther and farther away, and I thought he was going home.” This detail matched Chen Miao’s GPS track—after 10:10, the vehicle did indeed drive towards the brick kiln until the signal disappeared at 10:30.
The most crucial evidence came from the bloodstain analysis on the crowbar. Although the blood type matched Chen Miao's, DNA typing showed they weren't from the same person. "I got this from a fight last week," Sun Laosi said, rolling up his trouser leg, the wound on his knee still unhealed. "It has nothing to do with Chen Miao; I didn't even touch his car." Technicians also found no biological samples related to Chen Miao in the tricycle's cargo bed, only Sun Laosi's fingerprints and soil from the cornfield.
As Xiao Wang placed the report ruling out Sun Laosi as a suspect on the table, the brick kiln outside the window was bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Sun Laosi's tricycle had been found, and the hoodie under the seat was indeed his, but its fiber composition was completely different from the gray-black tire rubber found by the pond. "File Sun Laosi's file," Xiao Wang said into the walkie-talkie, "Focus on investigating the connection between Zhao Qiang and Scarface, especially their movements after 10:30 p.m. on July 12."
Three days later, Xiao Zhou finally made significant progress.
Xiao Zhou's fingers tapped rhythmically on the license plate number "冀A?735XX", the fluorescent lights in the information center humming as if echoing the rapidly processing clues in his mind. "Check this car's driving trajectory on July 12th," he said into the walkie-talkie, his fingertips tracing the coordinates of Chen Miao's taxi disappearing on the screen, "Focus on its destination between 10 PM and midnight." Technician Xiao Ma's keyboard clattered, GPS data weaving a network on the screen, the red trajectory line starting from Zhao Qiang's company, briefly stopping at the gas station, and then pointing straight towards the pond.
"Found it!" Xiao Ma suddenly shouted. The red dot on the screen overlapped with Chen Miao's taxi trajectory at 10:23. "Zhao Qiang's car was parked in the cornfield near the pond for 47 minutes and didn't leave until 11:10. This time coincides with the time period of Chen Miao's death!" He zoomed in on the image. "The parking location was less than 50 meters from the starting point of the drag marks, and there was an S-shaped route, as if it was avoiding something."
Xiao Zhou immediately retrieved the gas station's surveillance footage. In the 10:15 AM clip, Zhao Qiang's black sedan was indeed following Chen Miao's taxi, the window half-rolled down. A figure in the passenger seat was smoking, and a scar on his cheek was particularly noticeable under the lights—it was none other than "Scarface" Zhang Long. "They were indeed together," Xiao Zhou said, comparing the surveillance screenshot with Sun Laosi's testimony. "Sun Laosi said Chen Miao had a recording pen in his car, which likely recorded their secret."
While investigating Zhao Qiang's financial transactions, Xiao Zhou discovered a strange account. "For the past three months, Zhao Qiang has been transferring 20,000 yuan to Zhang Long every week," he pointed to the "service fee" note on the bank statement, "but the two have no business dealings at all; it's more like hush money." Following this lead, at Zhang Long's loan shark company, a loan contract clearly listed "Chen Miao" as the borrower, with an amount of 150,000 yuan, an interest rate far exceeding the legal limit, a date of March 2022, and a blank guarantor section.
“Chen Miao not only owes Sun Laosi money, but also Zhang Long 7 yuan in usurious loans,” Xiao Zhou drew a triangular relationship diagram on the blackboard. “Zhao Qiang is caught in the middle, afraid that Chen Miao will report him for tax evasion, but also having to help Zhang Long collect the debt. His motives are quite sufficient.” He pulled up the call records. At 10:30 pm on July 12, during the 1 minute and 17 seconds that Zhao Qiang called Zhang Long, the base station location showed that both of them were near the pond. “This call was most likely about discussing how to deal with Chen Miao.”
The surprise inspection of Zhao Qiang's company yielded an unexpected discovery. In the safe in the finance office, besides ledgers detailing tax evasion, there was a bloodstained baseball bat. The grayish-black fibers clinging to the wooden handle matched the composition of the floor mats in Chen Miao's taxi. "The bloodstains on the baseball bat have been tested and are Chen Miao's," a supplementary report from forensic pathologist Zhang Lin had just arrived. "The impact was strong enough to cause unconsciousness before asphyxiation, but not fatal, fitting the characteristics of 'teaching a lesson' rather than 'murder.'"
As the arrest warrant was being issued, Zhao Qiang was signing a contract in the conference room. His pen paused at the signature of "Tongda Taxi Company." "Mr. Zhao, come with us," Xiao Zhou said, flashing his badge and glancing at the mole behind Zhao's right ear—a perfect match for the figure in the gas station's surveillance footage. "We need your assistance in the investigation of Chen Miao's case." Zhao Qiang's face turned deathly pale, and the pen in his hand slammed onto the contract, the ink spreading across the date "July 15th."
The incandescent light in the interrogation room cast Zhao Qiang's shadow on the wall. His fingers repeatedly traced the buttons on his suit cuff, as if counting the lines on them. "I just had Zhang Long scare him," his voice trembled. "Chen Miao threatened me with a recording pen, saying he'd expose the company's tax evasion, which could land me in jail!"
"Does intimidation require a baseball bat?" Xiao Zhou pushed the bloodstained evidence bag in front of him, the fibers gleaming silver under the light. "At 10:23 PM on July 12th, what did you and Zhang Long do to Chen Miao by the pond?" Zhao Qiang's Adam's apple bobbed violently, and he suddenly raised his voice: "He attacked first! He took a wrench from the taxi and said he wanted to take us all down with him!"
This statement perfectly matches the investigation record of Chen Miao's taxi - there was indeed a wrench in the passenger-side storage compartment, and the fingerprints on it belonged to Chen Miao, Zhao Qiang, and Zhang Long.