Chapter 8

Perhaps having enjoyed Luo Jingyao’s annoyed but restrained expression long enough, Lin Jiafan finally looked away. After ending the call with Pang Guangbuyi, he got out of the car at a leisurely pace.

Internally grumbling for quite a while, Luo Jingyao finally resigned herself and pushed open the car door.

The two walked silently into the Jinshi Public Security Bureau building and took the elevator up to the sixth floor.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Luo Jingyao saw Pang Guangbuyi approaching. Perhaps from being overworked all day, his face looked not only long but also slightly greenish under that explosion of bleached yellow hair.

“Boss, where the hell did you go…?”

The urgent question stopped short when he saw who was inside the elevator. His eyes widened in surprise:
“Coach Luo?!”

With his mouth slightly agape, Pang Guangbuyi glanced from the expressionless Lin Jiafan to Luo Jingyao, who was still carrying the same big backpack from earlier that day. The next second, he let out a dramatic wail:
“No way, right? I miss one training session and you come after me in the middle of the night for extra drills? Late-night workouts can kill you!”

Lin Jiafan merely shot him a look of disdain and walked straight toward the interrogation room at the end of the corridor.

Luo Jingyao naturally followed behind.

The interrogation room was minimalistic: a table, a chair, and a surveillance camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling—nothing more.

After settling her in, Lin Jiafan didn’t begin questioning immediately. Instead, he turned and left the room.

Once the initial shock passed, Pang Guangbuyi, who had followed behind, finally began to piece things together.

The two began speaking just outside the door, making no effort to keep their conversation private. Their voices, though somewhat muffled, drifted through the door and into Luo Jingyao’s ears. With just a slight turn of her head, she could clearly see everything happening outside through the glass panel in the door.

“Captain Lin, what’s the plan for Ma Hongtang, the one lying in the hospital?” Pang Guangbuyi asked in a lowered voice.

“After he fled the scene, the evidence team found quite a few interesting items in the vacant apartment on the second floor. Some of them have already been identified as stolen goods from recent burglaries in Hexi District,” Lin Jiafan replied, pausing briefly.

Pang Guangbuyi’s eyes lit up:
“So theft and unlawful entry charges are a sure thing. We’ve got plenty of time to deal with him then!”

“According to the lady downstairs, Ma Hongtang had been living in that second-floor unit for more than just a day. The infrastructure around Sanjiang Road in Hexi District is notoriously poor. I suspect he chose that run-down neighborhood to hide for precisely that reason,” Lin Jiafan analyzed calmly.

With no sufficient surveillance cameras in and out of the area, and most of the residents being elderly, the chances of him being noticed by the police were significantly lower. He was making full use of the “hidden in plain sight” tactic.

“For a repeat offender like Ma Hongtang, scoping out a location beforehand is a must. He wouldn’t just break into a vacant house on a whim. The top priority now is to find out why he went there. Whatever he saw or experienced could be the key to solving the two murder cases.”

Pang Guangbuyi nodded in agreement. The two leaned in closer and exchanged a few more words. Just then, hurried footsteps drew their attention.

The newcomer was also a member of the special case investigation team. Slightly shorter than Lin Jiafan and Pang Guangbuyi, the man had a stocky build and wore thick black-rimmed glasses that covered most of his face.

If Luo Jingyao remembered correctly, his name was Guo Zhen.

He came running down the stairs and quickly made his way over to Lin Jiafan, reporting in a muffled voice:
“Captain Lin, I just completed the re-examination of last week’s murder victim and the preliminary autopsy of today’s new victim. Here are the two reports—please take a look.”

He reached out to hand over the documents, but as he opened his mouth to speak, his gaze inadvertently fell on the half-open door of the interrogation room, and his words stuck in his throat.

Sensing his hesitation, Lin Jiafan didn’t bother explaining. He simply said,
“Speak.”

With years of teamwork between them, Guo Zhen quickly understood. It wasn’t the first time they’d subtly leaked information to a suspect for psychological effect.

After all, criminal investigation is mostly a game of mental warfare.

Sometimes, the more a suspect believes the police have solid evidence, the more likely their psychological defenses will collapse.

After a brief pause to consider, Guo Zhen continued,
“First of all, these two recent murder cases do share several similarities with the 6/13 serial killings from two years ago. For example, all the victims were women between the ages of 20 and 40. In both cases, the perpetrators skinned the victims, removed the flesh, left only the bones, and took the victim’s middle finger after the crime.”

“These so-called similarities,” Lin Jiafan said without even lifting his eyelids, his tone calm and emotionless, “are all details the police publicly disclosed after the original case was solved. Anyone who took the time to study the 6/13 serial case could easily replicate it on the surface.”

“That’s right, so the key lies in the differences between them,” Guo Zhen said, pointing to a specific part of the two reports. “Whether it was Huang Guojun two years ago or the perpetrator of these recent murders, both skinned and defleshed the victims after brutally killing them. As a result, the weapons used inevitably left traces on the bones.”

“Captain Lin, take a close look at the comparison between the bone markings from the recent two victims and those from the 6/13 serial murder case… It can be confirmed that the weapons used were different. Moreover, the direction and depth of the tool marks are inconsistent. It shows that Huang Guojun was right-handed, while this copycat is left-handed and clearly not as strong as Huang.”

“Mm.” Lin Jiafan nodded in affirmation, then added his own thoughts: “Actually, there’s another clear difference. Back then, Huang Guojun always committed the murders inside the victims’ homes and never moved the bodies afterward. But the killer in these recent cases did the opposite—he processed the bodies elsewhere and only dumped them at the locations where we eventually found them. This means we still haven’t identified the actual crime scenes.”

“That alone is enough to conclude that this copycat is more cunning than Huang Guojun,” he added after a brief pause, then instructed in a low voice, “Guo, contact forensics later and push them to run a cross-comparison between the physical evidence collected from today’s case and the one from last week. Let’s see if anything new turns up.”

Guo Zhen readily agreed.

Pang Guangbuyi, who had remained silent until now, finally let out a long sigh. “That’s great. At least we finally have a lead. We can confidently say that these two cases aren’t some ‘serial killer resurrected from the dead’ nonsense like what’s being spread online.”

“Captain Lin, you have no idea how much attention this case has gotten since Huang Guifen made a scene earlier today. The online speculation is getting out of control.”

Upon hearing this, Lin Jiafan fell silent, tapping the autopsy reports rhythmically with his fingers.

A few seconds later, he turned and walked back into the interrogation room.

Perhaps unwilling to waste more time on meaningless back-and-forth, he went straight to the point: “It’s been a while. Coach Luo, have you decided what you want to say?”

But what he didn’t expect was that Luo Jingyao, having been worn down by his repeated tactics, was now clearly irritated. She pulled out her phone, opened her photo gallery, and with a loud “thud,” tossed it onto the table.

“I really did come to apologize, and I really was curious how Huang Guifen knew about details of an active investigation. This is the only photo I took at her home.”

Lin Jiafan slowly picked up the phone and studied the screen carefully.

“At first, I was just surprised to see envelopes at her house. But when I got closer, I noticed there seemed to be something inside them.”

Luo Jingyao had never been someone who judged others by appearances. Initially, she had simply been surprised that someone still used handwritten letters in this day and age. But it was Huang Guifen’s suspicious and nervous behavior in hiding the letters that truly caught her attention.

Pang Guangbuyi leaned in curiously beside Lin Jiafan. “Hmm? The envelope doesn’t have a stamp or postmark. From the photo alone, we can’t rule out the possibility that it’s empty.”

“That’s assuming Huang Guifen didn’t cover it up right in front of me,” Luo Jingyao countered, standing her ground now that she had laid everything out.

After all, even if she noticed something or suspected anything, she couldn’t act on it—only the police could.

Shrugging noncommittally, Pang Guangbuyi suddenly changed the subject. “If I remember correctly, Coach Luo used to be in competitive sports. When did you start working as a private investigator?”

“…” Luo Jingyao was caught off guard, then simply gave up and replied, “To be honest, I often wonder if I chose the wrong career path. I regret it every day.”

Upon hearing that, Lin Jiafan lifted his eyelids slightly and glanced at her, mentally drawing his conclusion:

Nonsense.

Luckily, Pang Guangbuyi didn’t dwell on the topic. Instead, he turned to Lin Jiafan and whispered, “Speaking of Huang Guifen, she’s definitely suspicious. Director Zhang also mentioned assigning someone to question her. Should we go talk to her too?”

“You think she’ll tell us anything if we ask?” Lin Jiafan didn’t seem convinced.

If Huang Guifen really had something to hide, questioning her directly might just alert her.

Would she just hand over the envelope from the photo? Who knows what she’d actually give them.

“She definitely won’t,” Pang Guangbuyi sighed. But they were in the middle of a multi-pronged investigation—they couldn’t afford to ignore a lead right in front of them.

Lin Jiafan didn’t respond. He simply pushed the phone back across the table and smiled gently.
“Thank you for cooperating with the investigation today, Coach Luo. Sorry for all the trouble.”

Waving him off, Luo Jingyao bent down to pick up her backpack from the floor, ready to leave.

“And considering how you’ve been looking after our team these past few days, I was wondering if Coach Luo would be willing to give me a chance tomorrow—to properly express my gratitude and apologies?” As he spoke, Lin Jiafan pushed up the rimless glasses on his nose, his tone oddly suggestive. “How about we go for a massage? Loosen up a bit?”

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

Two surprised voices rang out in the interrogation room almost at the same time.

Compared to Pang Guangbuyi’s simple confusion, Luo Jingyao’s reaction carried a bit more disbelief. She instinctively looked up at Lin Jiafan, who remained expressionless.

This guy… unbelievable.

He really knows how to bend and flex just to get what he wants.