Po Sir's Police Affairs: The Hunter

Chen Zhiming's alibi is very strong.

Company surveillance footage shows that he entered the office building at 7:53 PM on August 14th and left at 12:21 AM on August 15th. He spent the entire four and a half hours in the office. His clock-in and clock-out records show his entry and exit times, colleagues testified that they saw him working overtime at his desk, and computer backend records show that his work account was constantly processing documents.

Zhou Xiao laid the evidence out on the table: "A perfect alibi. If he didn't do it, then someone else fabricated it for him. But the surveillance footage is real-time; it's impossible to fake it."

Jiang Bo sat behind his desk, silent. It was dark outside, and only he and Zhou Xiao were in the office, the fluorescent lights humming softly. On the desk lay the case file of Fang Min, and a copy of last year's Li Hongmei case.

The results came back from Su Min's side: the DNA from the skin flakes under Fang Min's fingernails matched that of Chen Zhiming.

"Her skin tissue is normal," Zhou Xiao said. "It's normal for couples to scratch each other. The scratches on his hands could also be from a cat; they do have a cat."

Jiang Bo picked up a photograph from the file—a close-up of Chen Zhiming's hand. There were three scratches, extending from the back of his hand to his wrist, wide apart, like fingers spread out as if scratching. Cat scratches are usually narrower because the cat's paws are closed together. Only human scratches are this wide.

But he didn't say anything. There wasn't enough evidence, and speaking out wouldn't help.

Zhou Xiao's phone rang. He answered it, listened for a few minutes, and then hung up, saying, "Liu Tong checked the surveillance footage, and Chen Zhiming's route is indeed correct. He took all the main roads from home to the company, and there are surveillance cameras at every intersection. The timing matches up."

Jiang Bo opened Fang Min's phone call history. In the week before her disappearance, she and Chen Zhiming had three phone calls, each lasting no more than two minutes. There were no text messages, but the WeChat chat history was normal, consisting of everyday conversations like "What time will you be back?" and "What groceries are you buying?"

A seemingly normal couple.

But the photo of the wet raincoat kept replaying in Jiang Bo's mind. He took out his phone and pulled up the photo he'd taken that afternoon by the river—the old man's boat, the moss on the bottom, the oars, and the wet raincoat. He zoomed in on the photo, examining the details of the raincoat.

The old black raincoat had a faded collar and a dark stain on the cuff. Upon closer inspection, it was bloodstains.

Jiang Bo stared at the bloodstain for a few seconds, then picked up the phone and called Su Min: "Sister Su, can you help me check something? Can the bloodstain on the raincoat be used for DNA testing?"

"What raincoat?"

"It's from a boat over at the old pontoon bridge. I'll go collect samples tomorrow," Jiang Bo said. "Also, could you check if the physical evidence from Li Hongmei's case last year is still there, especially the extract from under her fingernails?"

Su Min paused for a moment: "DNA testing wasn't done in that case at the time, so it might not have been preserved."

"Check it out," Jiang Bo said before hanging up the phone.

Zhou Xiao looked at him: "You suspect that old fisherman?"

Jiang Bo didn't answer. He stood up and walked to the window, looking at the night view outside. The office buildings in Jinghu District were lit up, and the traffic on Changjiang Road formed a ribbon of light. In the distance, the outline of Zhongjiang Pagoda disappeared into the night, with only the lights on the top of the tower flashing.

"Tomorrow we'll investigate that old man's background," he said. "Also, we'll visit all the fishermen in the old pontoon bridge area, one by one. We'll ask them if anyone has rented a boat recently, or if anyone has gone out on the river at night."

Zhou Xiao nodded, packed his things, and prepared to leave. Reaching the door, he turned back: "Officer, if the killer really did travel by water, is it possible that Chen Zhiming—grew up here?"

Jiang Bo turned around: "Check Chen Zhiming's place of origin and place of upbringing."

The next morning, Zhou Xiao sent over the results.

Chen Zhiming is a native of Jiangcheng, but he didn't grow up in the old pontoon bridge area. He lives in Jinghu District, and his parents are both state-owned enterprise employees. He went to school in the city center from a young age and had no connection with the Qingyi River area. He went to university in Feicheng and returned to Jiangcheng to work after graduation, where he has been working as a programmer in an IT company.

The situation of the fishermen in the old pontoon bridge area was also investigated. The old man's name is Ding Laosan, he is sixty-seven years old, his ancestors have all fished on the Qingyi River, and he lives in an old bungalow by the river. He lives alone, and his son works at the Jiangcheng Shipyard and rarely comes back. Ding Laosan has no criminal record and his file at the police station is clean.

Jiang Bo drove to the old pontoon bridge, hoping to talk to Ding Laosan again. But the boat was still there, but the man was gone. The fishermen nearby said that Ding Laosan had left yesterday afternoon, saying he was going to stay at his son's house for a few days.

Do you have his son's phone number?

The fisherman gave Zhou Xiao a number, which he wrote down. Jiang Bo stood on the riverbank, watching the empty boat. The raincoat was still there, folded and placed at the bow. He jumped onto the boat, picked up the raincoat, and glanced at it—the dark stain was still there, dried, but clearly blood.

He put the raincoat into an evidence bag, took a picture, and then disembarked.

Zhou Xiao was on the phone next to him. After hanging up, he said, "Ding Laosan's son said his father didn't come. He hasn't seen his father for two months."

Jiang Bo looked at him: "Where is he?"

"I don't know. My phone is off too."

Jiang Bo stood on the riverbank, watching the Qingyi River flow into the Yangtze River. The sun rose, and the river surface shimmered with golden light. Several small boats were casting nets in the middle of the river. On the bank, workers demolishing houses began their work, the sound of electric drills humming loudly.

The old man ran away.

Why did he run? If he was just renting the boat to the killer, there was no need for him to run. If he was the killer, then—

A thought suddenly popped into Jiang Bo's mind. He turned to Zhou Xiao and asked, "Where is Chen Zhiming today?"

"He's at home, and our people are keeping an eye on him." Zhou Xiao glanced at his phone. "The report just came that he didn't leave the house all morning; he just stood on the balcony smoking."

Jiang Bo checked the time: 10:23 AM.

"Let's go to Chen Zhiming's house."

Chen Zhiming lives in an old residential building in Jinghu District, a six-story building without an elevator. His home is on the third floor, a two-bedroom, one-living room apartment, simply but cleanly decorated. When the door opened, Chen Zhiming was wearing pajamas, his eyes were red, as if he had been crying.

"Officer Jiang, any news?"

Jiang Bo didn't go inside; he stood at the door watching him. Chen Zhiming's hand still had a band-aid on it, covering the scratches.

"Would it be convenient for you to come in and have a seat?"

Chen Zhiming stepped aside: "Please come in."

The living room wasn't large; it had a sofa, coffee table, and a TV—a typical family home. Jiang Bo sat down on the sofa, with Zhou Xiao standing beside him. Several ashtrays on the coffee table were full. Chen Zhiming sat down next to him, head down, saying nothing.

Jiang Bo glanced around the room. There were several photos on the TV cabinet, a picture of Fang Min and Chen Zhiming, both smiling happily. The balcony door was open, and several pieces of clothing were hanging out to dry, including a pink tracksuit—the same color as the shoes.

"Mr. Chen," Jiang Bo began, "we'd like to verify something again. Where were you last Friday night?"

Chen Zhiming looked up, startled: "Last Friday? The day before she disappeared? I was working overtime at the company."

"From what time to what time?"

"From around 7 p.m. to 11 p.m., it was the same as that day," Chen Zhiming said. "Our company has been busy with projects lately, so we often work overtime."

"Does anyone have proof?"

"The surveillance footage? Didn't you check it?" Chen Zhiming frowned. "Officer Jiang, what do you mean? You suspect me?"

Jiang Bo didn't answer, but looked at him and asked, "That scratch on your hand, was it really from a cat?"

Chen Zhiming subconsciously withdrew his hand: "Yes."

"Can I see that cat?"

Chen Zhiming paused for a moment, then stood up: "It's in the bedroom, I'll go get it."

He pushed open the bedroom door and went in. Jiang Bo stood up after him but didn't go in; he just stood at the doorway watching. The bedroom wasn't big, with a bed and a wardrobe. The curtains were drawn, and the light was dim. Chen Zhiming bent down and pulled a cat bed out from under the bed. Inside, a chubby orange cat was curled up.

"This is it." Chen Zhiming picked up the cat, which lazily glanced at Jiang Bo and continued sleeping.

Jiang Bo looked at the cat, then at Chen Zhiming's hand. Cat claws could indeed leave scratches, but the cat's nails were trimmed very short, clearly done at a pet store. Such nails would at most leave shallow red marks, not deep bloodstains.

He didn't say anything, just nodded: "Okay, thank you for your cooperation."

As he reached the door, he suddenly turned around: "Mr. Chen, where did you grow up?"

Chen Zhiming paused for a moment: "Jinghu District, around here."

Have you ever been to the old pontoon bridge area?

"I've been there, but not often," Chen Zhiming said. "My maternal grandmother used to live there, and I went there a few times when I was a child."

Jiang Bo looked at him and asked, "What's your maternal grandmother's name?"

"Her surname is Ding, and her given name is Ding something-lan, I forgot." Chen Zhiming frowned. "Why did you suddenly ask that?"

Jiang Bo didn't answer, and turned to leave.

After going downstairs, Zhou Xiao whispered, "Surname Ding? Ding Laosan's surname is also Ding."

Jiang Bo walked to the car and lit a cigarette. His mind raced through the information: Ding Laosan, 67 years old, fisherman, living alone. Chen Zhiming, 36 years old, programmer, his maternal grandmother's surname was Ding. If Ding Laosan was some kind of relative of Chen Zhiming, then it was possible he helped Chen Zhiming rent boats, or even helped him commit crimes.

But Chen Zhiming has an alibi for that night. The surveillance footage clearly shows him entering the company and not leaving until four and a half hours later. If he really committed the crime, how did he do it?

Unless he left halfway through.

Jiang Bo picked up the phone and called Liu Tong: "Check the surveillance footage of the building where Chen Zhiming's company is located. See if there are any back doors, fire exits, underground parking garages, or anything like that. See if there's any possibility that he might have left midway through."

Liu Tong was typing furiously on his keyboard: "I'm investigating now. That building only has one main entrance with surveillance cameras, but the underground parking garage has an exit that leads to the street behind it. That exit doesn't have surveillance cameras, so anyone can go through it."

Jiang Bo's heart skipped a beat: "Can the garage security cameras see his car?"

"You can see that his car was parked in the underground garage, and the surveillance camera captured it clearly," Liu Tong said. "His car went in at 7:53 p.m. and didn't move until 12:21 a.m.

Jiang Bo took a drag of his cigarette and looked out the car window. The car wasn't moving, but he could. If he parked in the underground garage and walked out through the exit, no one would know. There were indeed no security cameras on the street leading to the garage exit; it led directly into the old town, full of narrow alleys, all the way to the Qingyi River.

"Zhou Xiao," he said, "let's calculate the time. How long would it take to walk from Chen Zhiming's company to the old pontoon bridge?"

Zhou Xiao took out his phone to check the map: "About three kilometers, about half an hour if you walk briskly."

"How about taking a boat from the old pontoon bridge to Zhongjiang Pagoda?"

"Twenty minutes."

Jiang Bo did the math in his head. If Chen Zhiming entered the company at 7:53, parked his car, slipped out of the garage through the back door at 8:00, arrived at the old floating bridge at 8:30, and reached Zhongjiang Tower at 8:50, the crime would take about half an hour. He could then return at 9:20, be back in the company garage at 9:50, and be back at his workstation before 10:00. It was perfectly feasible.

The surveillance cameras only show him entering and leaving the company; no one is watching whether he stays at his workstation for those four hours.

Jiang Bo stubbed out his cigarette and started the car: "Let's go to his company."

Chen Zhiming's company was located in the Yijiang District, in a building over twenty stories high. The lower floors were a shopping mall, and the upper floors were office space. Chen Zhiming worked on the twelfth floor, at an IT outsourcing company. When Jiang Bo and Zhou Xiao entered, it was lunchtime, and there weren't many people in the company.

Zhou Xiao contacted the property management and retrieved the surveillance footage from the 12th floor on that day. The footage showed that Chen Zhiming entered the company at 7:58 PM on August 14th and never came out again—at least not from the 12th floor.

But what about elevator surveillance?

They then checked the elevator surveillance footage. The building has four elevators: two passenger elevators and two freight elevators. The passenger elevators have surveillance cameras, but the freight elevators do not. The freight elevators lead to the underground parking garage and also to the back entrance on the first floor.

Jiang Bo looked at the location of the freight elevator—it was at the end of the company corridor, just around the corner. If Chen Zhiming stood up from his workstation, walked to the freight elevator, and took it down, no one would know.

"Check the fire exits at his company," Jiang Bo said.

The fire escape is in the stairwell, and there are no security cameras. It takes about fifteen minutes to walk down from the twelfth floor to the back door on the first floor. The back door leads to a small alley; after a few twists and turns, it takes about ten minutes to reach the Qingyi River.

Jiang Bo stood at the twelfth-floor window and looked down, seeing the Qingyi River clearly. The river surface shimmered in the sunlight, and several small boats rowed slowly along. If he started from here, took the fire escape to the back gate, and then went to the riverbank, he could indeed avoid all the surveillance cameras.

He turned around and looked at Chen Zhiming's workstation. The computer was still on, and there were a few books and a potted plant on the desk. Next to the workstation was a window, and on the windowsill was an ashtray with several cigarette butts inside.

Jiang Bo walked over, picked up the ashtray, and looked at it. The cigarette butts were Yuxi brand, the same brand Chen Zhiming smoked. But one cigarette butt was different—there was a lipstick mark on the filter.

He put the cigarette butt separately into the evidence bag.

Zhou Xiao whispered from the side, "What does this prove?"

Jiang Bo didn't answer. He recalled Fang Min's autopsy report—sleeping pills were detected in her stomach contents. If Fang Min was drugged before being strangled, the drugging must have happened before she left the house.

Who was Fang Min with before she went out?

Chen Zhiming.

He packed his cigarette butts and glanced out the window. The sun was high in the sky, and the river shimmered. He suddenly remembered something—Ding Laosan had said that the person who rented the boat "speaks the local dialect," and Chen Zhiming was a local who spoke the local dialect.

Ding Laosan was a relative of Chen Zhiming's maternal grandmother.