Anti-gang campaign: Female bureau chief

Jiang Ruolan interrupted him, her voice suddenly becoming sharp, "Then how do you explain the Fang Zhiqing case?"

A 24-year-old female accountant in New South Wales was found suffocated to death by having a plastic bag placed over her lips. There were lipstick marks of unknown origin on her lips. The technician who conducted the on-site investigation told you that this mark indicated that the murderer had a special criminal motive and that it was likely a series of crimes.

Did you hear me? No. You signed four words on the last page of the case file—"Investigation temporarily suspended." Three years ago, the drug trafficking network of Ding Hai, Zhou Haipeng, and Wei Xiaojun was still in its infancy, and Fang Zhiqing was the first person to discover their secret.

If you had investigated Fang Zhiqing's case thoroughly, you could have easily taken down the entire gang back then. You wouldn't have saved Fang Zhiqing's life, but you could have saved Su Nian. That girl was only twenty years old last year; she didn't have to die.

The air in the interrogation room felt as if all its warmth had been sucked out.

Sun Zhengyang lowered his head.

It wasn't the kind of bowed head that comes from being defeated, but rather an extremely heavy movement, as if it were gathering strength.

After a full half minute of silence, he raised his head again and spoke in a tone completely different from before.

The tone lacked the composure and experience of a criminal investigator, leaving only the weariness of a man who had been burdened by a secret for many years.

"I know Song Ya."

Jiang Ruolan's pupils contracted slightly.

She didn't say anything, but walked back to the table, sat down, picked up the glass of water that had gone cold, unscrewed the cap, took a sip, and then quietly waited for him to continue.

"It wasn't that kind of acquaintance. I was her informant—no, the opposite. She was my informant. From 2015 to 2017, when I was in the Criminal Investigation Division of the Xinzhou Municipal Public Security Bureau, I recruited a group of informants, and Song Ya was one of them."

She is a TV presenter for Ngee Ann TV, but she attended university in New South Wales. Her ex-boyfriend was a local drug lord in New South Wales, so she is quite familiar with that circle.

Through her, I obtained several leads on drug trafficking and solved several cases.

But I later discovered that there was a pattern to the information she gave me—she only reported competitors, never her own people's businesses. She was playing me.

Sun Zhengyang's voice grew softer and softer, but his enunciation remained clear, as if he were giving a case report that was several years overdue.

He said that in the second half of 2017, he discovered through technical means that Song Ya had close ties with people from Fengmao Group, especially Zhou Wenxuan.

Zhou Wenxuan is Shen Wangshan's chief advisor and controls all of Fengmao's legal and illegal financial flows. Song Ya's motives for approaching Zhou Wenxuan are definitely not just about a romantic relationship.

He met with Song Ya and pressed her about her relationship with Feng Mao.

Song Ya admitted at the time that she worked for Feng Mao—not in drug trafficking, but in an "information business".

Taking advantage of her position at the television station, she collected various sensitive information about the official and business circles in Yi'an, and sold it to those who needed it through Zhou Wenxuan.

Some of this information pertains to the provincial task force investigating Fengmao at the time.

Sun Zhengyang said he faced two choices at the time: report it or suppress it.

He chose the third option—to threaten Song Ya, making her turn around and become his informant within Fengmao.

"I really want to solve a major case."

When Sun Zhengyang said this, a bitter smile appeared on his lips. The smile contained self-mockery as well as a kind of indescribable bitterness. "At that time, I was forty-two years old. I had been working in criminal investigation in Xinzhou for more than ten years and was about to miss the age limit for promotion."

After my father retired, he lost his influence in the provincial government, so I had to rely on my professional skills. But in Xinzhou, major cases were handled by the provincial department, and all I could get my hands on were petty thefts and long-standing cold cases.

I needed a breakthrough, and Song Ya was that breakthrough. I thought I could control her. I was wrong.

His voice trembled slightly as he said "I was wrong".

Jiang Ruolan did not interrupt him, but listened quietly, her fingers gently stroking the inside of the cup.

Sun Zhengyang was silent for a while, as if sorting through that chaotic memory that he didn't want to touch, before continuing.

In 2018, Song Ya told him something—Feng Mao had a real estate development project in the east of Yi An City, and a murder had occurred at the construction site.

It wasn't a worker safety accident; it was murder.

The deceased was a woman whose identity was unclear. It was only known that she came from out of town and had a romantic entanglement with a minor leader in Fengmao.

The gang leader accidentally killed someone after drinking, and in a panic, he sought help from people inside Fengmao.

Later, Zhou Wenxuan personally handled the matter. The body was buried under the foundation of the construction site and covered with cement.

Song Ya said she didn't know exactly who did it, only that Zhou Wenxuan went to the construction site on the day the body was buried, and his face looked terrible when he came back.

"I should have reported it to the provincial authorities immediately. That information was enough to launch a covert investigation. But I didn't."

Sun Zhengyang's voice grew increasingly hoarse, as if he were sanding his throat. "Because I'm afraid. I'm afraid that once the investigation starts, my use of Song Ya will be exposed."

As a deputy head of the criminal investigation team, I maintained a single-line contact with members of a criminal group for a long time. The information I obtained was incomplete and untimely, and I was even used against myself. This is a serious violation of organizational discipline, and my career is over.

I comforted myself by saying I'd wait until I had more solid evidence before reporting it, and that I should play it safe for now. But that playing it safe meant I never had another chance.

In early 2019, Song Ya suddenly went missing.

Her phone was disconnected, the TV station said she had taken a long leave of absence, and her place had been emptied.

Sun Zhengyang panicked and used various means to find her. Finally, he used a technical means to find her last call record before she went missing—the other party was a local Yi'an mobile phone number.

He called back, and a man answered the phone. He claimed to be Song Ya's "friend" and said that Song Ya was not feeling well and needed to rest for a while, and told him not to contact her anymore.

"Who is that man?" Jiang Ruolan asked.

"I don't know. I checked the number, and the owner's registration information was a fake ID. But I know that person must be the foreman who killed someone at the construction site, or someone directly related to that incident."

Song Ya knew too much; either she was silenced or she was being held captive.

Sun Zhengyang closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "My second mistake was choosing to remain silent at this moment. Because I was even more afraid."

Song Ya's disappearance means that this lead in my hands has been completely cut off, and if anyone investigates this lead in the future, I will be the first person held accountable—because I failed to report it in time, which led to the death of an important informant.

So I chose to say nothing. I deleted all records related to Song Ya, pretending that I had never developed a relationship with her.

Later, when Fengmao collapsed, Zhou Wenxuan was arrested, and Song Ya was arrested at the North City Wharf, I was sitting in front of the TV watching the news. I felt like I had been doused with ice water – because I didn’t see her being put into the police car; the news only showed a side profile.

What I was thinking at the time was, "Is she dead or not?"

..............