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墨書 Inktalez
"So this is the basic information about the homeowner?" a rather stout police officer asked.
"That's right, Captain Wang," An Jinzhong replied.
Captain Wang rubbed his stubble and patted An Jinzhong on the shoulder. "You've worked hard, comrade. You all go and calm the crowd, block the reporters. Don't let anyone chaotic come up until the case is thoroughly investigated."
"Understood," An Jinzhong nodded.
An Jinzhong took one last look at the corpse before heading downstairs with the officers from the precinct. As a police officer, An Jinzhong had often dreamed of being a detective who unraveled mysteries and conducted investigations, but now, nearing fifty, he knew he would never have the chance to fulfill that dream.
He sighed as he brushed past a resident unlocking their door on the fifth floor, reflecting on how time leaves no trace. He couldn't help but feel melancholic, almost wishing to compose a poem on the spot. After An Jinzhong and his team left, the resident on the fifth floor peeked down curiously.
It turned out to be Jiang He.
Jiang He had basically arrived downstairs alongside Captain Wang. As he pondered how to slip into the hallway under the watchful eye of this police officer, Captain Wang and his team hurriedly approached from a distance. Jiang He quickly devised a plan, glancing around before casually putting on a jacket left by someone nearby.
Some detectives were in plain clothes, so Jiang He confidently followed behind them.
Thus, one should never judge things solely by their surface; what lies on the surface is always what others want you to see. This habit of deep analysis had become second nature for Jiang He; he would always conduct a thorough examination of what he observed, sifting through countless options in his mind to find the most accurate one.
Captain Wang clearly lacked this quality.
"Old An asked me to come up and keep an eye on things, lend a hand or something," Jiang He said confidently.
Captain Wang nodded without paying much attention to Jiang He and squatted down to examine the corpse in the entrance hall, which belonged to Wu Guifeng.
Jiang He stood behind Captain Wang, both of them gazing at the corpse. His eyes functioned like a high-speed scanner, absorbing all the information about the body, while simultaneously, his brain began to analyze the data.
The female corpse appeared to be between fifty and sixty years old. She stood approximately five feet tall and was dressed in a green shirt and ordinary black pants. The surface of the pants was smooth, with only a small amount of blood adhering to them. The body leaned against a shoe cabinet that was about twenty inches high. At this moment, her head was level with the top of the cabinet, resting in its groove, preventing her from falling.
Jiang He noticed the right hand of the corpse. Her hand was rough and calloused, and despite being covered in blood, the signs of age were unmistakable. On her right middle finger was a thimble, also smeared with blood.
A knife was embedded in her abdomen. Judging by the handle, it was about four inches long, with most of the blade already plunged into her body, making it unclear how long the blade actually was. However, based on Jiang He's knowledge of knives, he estimated an eighty percent chance that a typical household serrated knife's blade length is between one hundred twelve to one hundred fifty percent of its handle length.
This meant that the blade length was likely between four and six inches.
About an inch of the blade protruded from the corpse, indicating that at least four inches had penetrated her abdomen. The handle was angled inward toward her face.
After observing this, Jiang He suddenly turned around.
Next to him stood a detective who was intently focused on the corpse as well.
When Jiang He abruptly turned his head, his bloodshot eyes filled with indifference startled the detective. A mere glance from Jiang He made it seem as if he had seen an arch-nemesis charging at him. Jiang He clenched his right fist as if grasping something intangible.
Before the detective could react, Jiang He's fist struck him. Following that, a flurry of punches rained down on him like a torrential downpour. Jiang He's movements were varied; sometimes he thrust forward with his fist, other times he jabbed upward or pulled downward.
The areas he targeted were equally diverse—one moment it was the detective's chest, then his stomach, and then his abdomen—leaving the detective utterly bewildered.
All it took was a glance in a crowd for Jiang He to unleash such a furious assault on him.
"What are you doing? Are you crazy?" the detective finally shouted in anger.
At that moment, everyone turned their attention to Jiang He, unsure of what had gotten into him.
Jiang He seemed oblivious to the intense gazes of the seven or eight people present. He crouched down, carefully examining the direction of the knife wound. The blade had pierced from just above the navel, entering the abdomen. What would happen if it was thrust in at this angle, slanting downwards for ten centimeters?
Based on Jiang He's calculations, first, the serrated knife would cut through the stomach wall, causing blood and gastric fluid to spill out. If the serrated knife continued downward, it would sever the large intestine, resulting in an excruciatingly painful death. Jiang He had conducted experiments with pigs before; under such circumstances, a pig would scream in agony for over ten minutes before dying.
Through multiple experiments, Jiang He had come to understand one thing: a pig's will to survive was far stronger than that of a human.
Thus, he estimated that this female corpse likely endured for about three to five minutes after the serrated knife was plunged into her abdomen.
Looking at the bloodstains on the ground, he noted that a pool of blood had formed on the right side of the corpse, which was related to her slumped position. Due to gravity, it was inevitable that blood would flow in that direction. Jiang He observed the bloodstains closely; there weren't many spurting stains, and they weren't very far apart.
Jiang He stood up and rested his chin on his hand. "Based on my deductions, there is an eighty percent chance this was a suicide. I just conducted an experiment; if it were homicide, then the angle and position of the serrated knife's entry wouldn't align with how a person normally exerts force."
Everyone's gaze shifted toward Jiang He.
"Clearly," he continued, "a person wouldn't willingly sit here and let someone kill them. If she had been standing and was stabbed, she wouldn't have been able to support herself and would have collapsed onto the ground; the blood wouldn't have sprayed so close—this contradicts basic physics. Therefore, she must have been sitting when she was stabbed."
Jiang He pointed at the shoe cabinet. "This means she was either pushed or fell before being stabbed. However, if she was pushed or fell, she must have collided forcefully with the shoe cabinet. The shoe cabinet would have moved even slightly as a result. But I just examined this shoe cabinet closely and found no signs of friction. Look closely at this shoe cabinet; it's pressed against the wall. Over time, its edges have worn a horizontal line into the wall."
Captain Wang leaned in for a closer look and indeed found a horizontal mark worn into the wall where the top of the shoe cabinet pressed against it.
"The Shoe Cabinet is tightly aligned with the wall, and there hasn't been even the slightest displacement," Jiang He said loudly. "Therefore, I conclude that there is an eighty percent chance this person committed suicide."
"Gloves," Jiang He said to Captain Wang beside him.
Captain Wang looked at this police officer who had suddenly appeared from nowhere. Although his expression showed no signs of disturbance, his mind was in turmoil. Who was this disheveled officer? How could he make such a rational judgment after only a few minutes of observation? This left everyone present speechless.
Captain Wang finally began to scrutinize the man closely.
His hair looked like it hadn't been washed in ages, and he wore an oversized shirt that was clearly much larger than his frame. Dark circles heavily weighed down the area around his eyes, and his expression was completely devoid of emotion, with a cold and sharp gaze.
"This station actually has someone so capable," Captain Wang thought to himself. "If given the chance, bringing this person to the Substation would save me a lot of effort."
What Captain Wang didn't know was that this impressive figure in his eyes was merely a social drifter.
"Gloves." Seeing no one react, Jiang He spoke again.
Captain Wang handed over a pair of gloves from a nearby detective to Jiang He.
Jiang He nodded, put on the gloves, and crouched beside the body.
He reached out to touch the deceased's shirt and pants; both were made of very coarse material. The pants and shirt were significantly worn, indicating they had been worn for quite some time. The shirt was clearly a men's t-shirt, and judging by how ill-fitting it was, it wasn't something specifically bought for her.
After observing these details, Jiang He's mind relayed an insight: this elderly woman was very frugal, essentially the type who would save wherever possible.
He held his breath, his eyes fixed intently on the serrated knife.
This type of knife was quite common in households, but Jiang He felt that its presence in this home was somewhat out of place. This serrated knife was specifically designed for handling frozen meat and other difficult-to-cut types of meat. For an elderly person who preferred to save wherever possible, an old-fashioned Wang Mazi kitchen knife would have been a much better choice for both chopping vegetables and cutting meat.
Due to the way the knife was positioned, only a small amount of blood had splattered onto the handle, while most of it remained clean. Looking further down, the blade was angled downward against the abdomen, reinforcing Jiang He's belief that this person had committed suicide.
Jiang He stood up and said, "For now, I can only conclude with a ninety percent probability that this person committed suicide. Where's the forensic doctor? Why haven't I seen the forensic doctor?"
Jiang He's words displeased the detective present. Although Jiang He thought he was merely stating a simple observation, to the detective's ears, it sounded somewhat condescending.
Unable to hold back, he retorted, "You're just a local police officer. If you have nothing better to do, go back and mediate neighborhood disputes. Who do you think you are to give orders here?"
It seemed that the detective was still angry about Jiang He's earlier "crazy" actions.
Captain Wang, however, gently waved his hand. The person in front of him was definitely not ordinary; this was Captain Wang's instinctive feeling.
"The substation hasn't set up a criminal investigation forensic science division; the forensic doctor from the city bureau is on their way," Captain Wang said to Jiang He. "However, I have a question."
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