Po Sir's Police Affairs: The Hunter

When Chen Zhiming was brought into the interrogation room, his expression was very calm.

He sat in the chair, looking at Jiang Bo and Zhou Xiao opposite him, without saying a word. Jiang Bo also remained silent, simply watching him. The fluorescent light shone on Chen Zhiming's face, revealing a fine layer of sweat on his forehead.

Zhou Xiao spoke first: "Chen Zhiming, do you know why we asked you to come here?"

Chen Zhiming nodded: "I know. You suspect I killed my wife."

"So, did you kill him?"

Chen Zhiming looked up at Zhou Xiao, then at Jiang Bo. He took a deep breath and said, "I didn't. I was working overtime at the company that night; there's CCTV footage to prove it."

"The surveillance footage only proves you entered the company, not that you didn't leave." Zhou Xiao pushed the photos in front of him. "Your company has a freight elevator, but no surveillance cameras. There are no cameras at the exit of the underground parking garage either. You could sneak out from there and go to the riverbank."

Chen Zhiming paused for a moment, then shook his head: "I haven't gone out. I've been at my workstation the whole time, my colleagues can vouch for that."

Which colleague?

"Li Qiang, he also worked overtime that day. We stayed together until after 11 p.m. before leaving," Chen Zhiming said. "You can ask him."

Zhou Xiao and Li Qiang spoke on the phone. Li Qiang confirmed that Chen Zhiming had been at his workstation the whole time, but there was one detail—Li Qiang said that he was wearing headphones and watching videos that night and didn't notice whether Chen Zhiming was there or not. He only glanced at it occasionally and saw a figure at Chen Zhiming's workstation.

That figure might be Chen Zhiming, or it might not be.

Jiang Bo pushed the photo of the cigarette butt in front of Chen Zhiming: "Did you smoke this cigarette butt?"

Chen Zhiming glanced at it and said, "Yes, I'll smoke Yuxi cigarettes."

"What about the lipstick mark?"

Chen Zhiming's expression changed slightly, but he quickly regained his composure: "I don't know. Maybe a colleague smoked it while chatting at my workstation. There are a lot of women in our company."

Jiang Bo looked at him. This man was lying, but he spoke steadily, without any panic. He was experienced, or had thought about how to deal with it beforehand.

"Your maternal grandmother's surname is Ding?" Jiang Bo suddenly asked.

Chen Zhiming paused for a moment, then said, "Yes."

Do you know Ding Laosan?

Chen Zhiming was truly stunned this time. He opened his mouth, but didn't say anything. After a few seconds, he finally said, "That's my cousin."

"Cousin-in-law?" Zhou Xiao interjected. "Why didn't you mention it before?"

"You didn't even ask," Chen Zhiming said. "What happened to my cousin?"

Jiang Bo looked into his eyes: "Your cousin has disappeared. He ran away right after we went to question him."

A flicker of unease crossed Chen Zhiming's face, but he quickly suppressed it: "I don't know where he is. We don't usually keep in touch."

"You don't keep in touch much?" Jiang Bo leaned back. "Then why did you rent his boat?"

Chen Zhiming suddenly raised his head: "I didn't!"

"No?" Jiang Bo pulled a photo from the folder and pushed it in front of Chen Zhiming. The photo showed the small boat, the oars, and the wet raincoat. He pointed to a dark stain on the raincoat's cuff. "This is blood. The DNA test results aren't back yet, but we can compare them. If it's your wife's blood, how do you explain that?"

Chen Zhiming's face turned pale. He looked at the photo, his lips moved, but he didn't say a word.

Zhou Xiao added from the side, "There's other DNA on the raincoat, possibly left by the killer. Once we compare it, we'll know who it is."

Chen Zhiming's hands began to tremble. He lowered his head, staring at the photograph, and after a long while, he finally said, "I...I don't know."

"Don't know what?"

"I didn't know there was blood on that boat." Chen Zhiming looked up, his eyes reddening. "I did rent his boat, but I didn't kill anyone. I just... I just wanted to take a look."

"What are you looking at?"

Chen Zhiming bit his lip and remained silent for a long time. Then he took a deep breath and said, "Let's see if my wife really had an accident there."

Jiang Bo and Zhou Xiao exchanged a glance. This turn of events came somewhat suddenly.

Chen Zhiming began to speak, his voice low, as if talking to himself: "I know Fang Min has been acting strange lately. She goes out for a run every night, sometimes coming back very late. When I asked her, she said it was a running club activity. But I know the running club activities are on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and she sometimes goes out on Wednesdays and Fridays too. I followed her and found out she met with a man."

He looked up at Jiang Bo: "She cheated on me. I don't have proof, but I know it."

Jiang Bo remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"I was indeed working overtime at the company the night she disappeared, but I slipped out halfway through. I took the freight elevator down to the parking garage, went out through the back door, and took a taxi to the riverside. I wanted to see if she was meeting that man again. But I walked around the riverside and didn't see her," Chen Zhiming said. "Then I went back to the company and continued working overtime. The next morning, you came looking for me."

Why didn't you tell us this?

"Because I didn't know she was really in trouble," Chen Zhiming said. "I thought she had gone somewhere with that man again and would be back in a few days. I never imagined she would die."

Zhou Xiao, standing nearby, asked, "Who is that man?"

Chen Zhiming shook his head: "I don't know. I didn't see his face clearly, only his back. He was probably in his forties, about 1.75 meters tall, and thin."

"Where did you meet her?"

"Binjiang Park, below Zhongjiang Pagoda. I saw them talking on the observation deck, and then I left," Chen Zhiming said. "I was afraid she would see me, so I didn't dare to go any closer."

Jiang Bo was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "When did you rent your cousin's boat?"

"That was that night," Chen Zhiming said. "I wanted to cross the river to see what they were talking about. But halfway across, my oar fell off, and I almost capsized. I don't know how to row, so I had to row back."

Where are you rowing now?

"I turned around about halfway to Zhongjiang Pagoda before reaching it," Chen Zhiming said. "I tied the boat up, put the oars back, and left."

"Where's your raincoat? Are you wearing it?"

Chen Zhiming nodded: "I wore it. My cousin had a raincoat on his boat. I was afraid of getting my clothes wet, so I wore it. It didn't rain that day, but I still wore it."

"How come there's blood on the raincoat?"

Chen Zhiming was taken aback for a moment: "I don't know. It might have been my cousin who did it. He gets blood on his hands when he's fishing and cleaning fish."

This explanation makes sense. Killing fish does involve blood, and fish blood and human blood look very similar; without DNA testing, it's impossible to tell the difference.

Jiang Bo stared at Chen Zhiming, his mind racing through the information. This man's words were half true and half false. The truth was he had indeed slipped out; the lie was he hadn't reached Zhongjiang Tower. But what about the DNA evidence? What about the scratches on his hands?

"How did you get that injury on your hand?"

Chen Zhiming looked down at his hands, paused for a few seconds, and said, "Fang Min scratched them."

"When?"

"She disappeared three days before," Chen Zhiming said. "We had an argument, and she scratched me."

"Why are you arguing?"

Chen Zhiming fell silent again. After a long while, he finally looked up, his eyes red-rimmed: "I questioned her about who that man was, and she denied it, so we started arguing. She said I was paranoid, and I said she was hiding something. Then she scratched me, slammed the door, and left."

Jiang Bo didn't ask any more questions. He stood up, walked to the door of the interrogation room, and glanced back at Chen Zhiming. The man sat there with his head down, his shoulders trembling slightly, it was hard to tell whether he was crying or afraid.

Stepping out of the interrogation room, Zhou Xiao asked in a low voice, "Do you believe him?"

Jiang Bo didn't answer. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the corridor wall. The interrogation room door was closed, and no sound could be heard from inside. The corridor was quiet, save for the hum of the fluorescent lights.

He recalled the case from last year. Li Hongmei went missing while jogging at night and was found in the river; the case was closed as an accidental drowning. There was no autopsy, no DNA testing, and that was it. Now Fang Min is dead, in the same place, in the same way, but this time evidence has been left behind.

The two cases were separated by a year. If they were indeed committed by the same person, what was the killer doing during that year? Waiting for the next target to appear?

Jiang Bo recalled the newspaper clipping tucked in his mentor's notebook. 1999, an unidentified girl, on the Yangtze River beach. The case remained unsolved, the file gathering dust in a corner of the archives. The girl's dress was embroidered with little figures running at night.

A little person jogging at night.

A thought suddenly flashed through Jiang Bo's mind. He stubbed out his cigarette and strode towards the archives.

Zhou Xiao followed behind: "What's wrong?"

"Investigate that case from 1999," Jiang Bo said. "The unidentified girl on the Yangtze River beach."

The archives were on the second floor, in old-fashioned metal cabinets, with rows of files from decades ago. The administrator was a retired police officer, wearing reading glasses, who searched for a long time before finally finding the file folder. The cover was yellowed, and the writing was blurry, but it was still legible: "August 15, 1999, Yangtze River beach, unidentified girl, drowned."

Jiang Bo took the file folder and opened it. Inside were several black and white photographs, handwritten visit records, and a folded piece of paper. He unfolded the paper; a line of text was written on it:

"The river can carry away evidence, but it cannot take away sins."

It's my master's handwriting.

Jiang Bo stared at those words for a few seconds, stunned. He folded the paper and put it back, then took out the photos. One was of a little girl's body, lying face down in the reeds, wearing a floral dress. Another was a close-up of the dress, with a small figure embroidered on the chest, its arms swinging back and forth, its legs raised high—a little figure jogging at night.

Jiang Bo stared at that photo for a long time.

A skirt from 1999, embroidered with little figures running at night. A night runner from 2024, dying in the same spot.

He put the photo back in the file folder and said to the administrator, "I need to borrow this case."

The administrator nodded and made a note in the register.

Jiang Bo walked out of the archives with the file folder in his hand, Zhou Xiao following behind. At the top of the stairs, Zhou Xiao whispered, "Jiang Bo, do you think these two cases are related?"

Jiang Bo stopped and looked out the window at the sky. It was getting dark, and the sunset over the river was as red as fire. He remembered the scene he had seen from the observation deck early this morning—Li Hongmei's hands were gripping the railing, but someone had forcibly pried them open and pushed her off.

Twenty-five years have passed, and that scene remains there, waiting to be seen.

"Zhou Xiao," he said, "go check tomorrow to find out who the mother of that girl from 1999 was and what happened to her afterwards."

Zhou Xiao nodded and took out his phone to write it down.

Jiang Bo turned and went downstairs. Reaching the front door, he glanced back towards the archives. His mentor's notebook was still in his desk drawer, the last page containing the newspaper clipping. He'd never turned to that page before, but today, he would.

Because he suddenly remembered something—

What else did Master write in that notebook besides that sentence?