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墨書 Inktalez
The Special Cases Task Force is a temporary organization established in recent years, specifically tasked with investigating special cases that arise in various regions. During their downtime, the members go about their own business, but when a suspicious case or an unknown incident occurs, the members of the Special Investigation Team spring into action. Joining the Special Investigation Team might allow me to uncover the truth behind that case from two years ago, which would certainly be better than my current position.
However, it is said that the selection process for the Special Investigation Team has always been unconventional; even if one prepares, there is no clear direction on how to do so. I heard that during a previous selection, team members were simply dropped onto an unknown island, and only those who could find clues and successfully escape would be eligible to join the Special Investigation Team. As you can imagine, very few made it.
Of course, what I just described pertains to the selection method for Criminal Police Officers. As for how forensic experts are chosen, I have no idea. But since Yang Xiaojuan has already been confirmed to join the Special Investigation Team, I must work hard as well; this might be my only chance.
Almost everyone in the bureau knows that I am going to participate in the selection for the Special Investigation Team. Even Old Qin has caught wind of it and said to me, "Xiao Shao, I have high hopes for you. Among our bureau, who is as capable as you? You remind me so much of my younger self. Back then, I stood at the door like a real police officer. There wasn't a day without a dozen young ladies surrounding me. Thank goodness I wasn't guarding the civil affairs bureau; otherwise, I would have gotten married at least ten years earlier!"
Old Qin's bragging skills are truly honed over decades; us younger folks can only look up to him. In just these few sentences, he praises me subtly while boasting about himself openly—starting with a small boast and ending with a grand one, all woven together into a continuous stream of flattery. With Old Qin's eloquence, he could easily serve as a judge in a speech competition at the department.
"If you get selected, I'll treat you to spicy hot pot!" Uncle Qin declared. Before I could retort about how stingy he was, he continued, "What kind of look is that? Hey, don’t get emotional; hold back those tears! You’re just too genuine; this is what Uncle Qin should do..." As he spoke, he casually took half a box of Yellow Crane Tower cigarettes from me.
In these past few days, I've been going to and from work as usual, helping interns organize some files. However, today when I entered through the side door, I noticed that Uncle Qin—who usually dozes off at the front desk—wasn't at work. The small door was tightly locked. Peering through the window, I saw his tea kettle and some tea leaves on the table along with half a box of cigarettes.
I had barely settled into the archive room when I noticed through its window that a group of police officers entered through the side door; one of them was trying to unlock it. Frowning slightly, I stepped out of the archive room for a closer look and spotted Li Bo among them. I grabbed him and asked, "What’s going on?"
Li Bo continued directing others while replying to me, "Uncle Qin jumped off a building this morning!"
"What?" I was stunned and could hardly believe my ears. Uncle Qin had been around longer than Director Li; he had seen countless interns come and go and watched many seasoned officers retire honorably. For decades he had observed this little corner of the world—how could it be that Uncle Qin suddenly committed suicide without any reason?
"We need to separate public and private belongings," Li Bo shouted before turning back to me. "Who wouldn’t think so? I feel like Old Qin's death has some hidden circumstances. Sister Juan is currently preparing the death certificate; we should have a report soon." With a sigh, Li Bo added, "Although my relationship with Old Qin isn’t as close as yours, I've always felt he would sit here for life—watching over the police station's entrance—and in the end, his death certificate would also be issued here."
Inside, Old Qin's belongings had already been sorted out and packed into an instant noodle box: several pieces of clothing belonging to Uncle Qin, half a jar of tea leaves, an old tea kettle faded with “Hygiene Model” written on it, half a pack of cigarettes, a semiconductor radio, a Zippo lighter, and a black notebook.
That half jar of tea leaves was given by Director Li; the Zippo lighter was my gift; and the notebook was issued by the bureau.
I casually picked up the notebook and flipped through a few pages. Old Qin had a habit of jotting things down, perhaps due to his age and fading memory. Most of what was written was trivial, but on the last page, dated yesterday, he had noted: "While shopping at the market today, I forgot my wallet and borrowed ten yuan from Old Zhang. Remember to pay him back tomorrow."
I handed the notebook to Li Bo. He glanced at it and said, "This morning, I received a report from Uncle Qin's son, Qin Xiao. He and his wife woke up to find that Uncle Qin, who usually gets up early to cook, was missing from the house. They searched everywhere until they discovered Uncle Qin's body downstairs."
"The neighborhood is an old one, and this building is located at the northernmost part of the area. Uncle Qin's family lives on the Sixth Floor. His bedroom faces away from the sun and is in the last building. So no one noticed anything until Qin Xiao and his wife found Uncle Qin's body. We have temporarily sealed off the scene, and right now, Qin Xiao and his wife are giving their statements."
I nodded, knowing that Li Bo understood my intent. I listened as he continued, "If someone wants to commit suicide, they wouldn't write something like this in a notebook. It would be more plausible for Old Qin to leave a note asking Qin Xiao to return that ten yuan... Besides, I really can't think of any reason why Old Qin would want to take his own life!"
"That's right. What we need to determine now is whether Old Qin was murdered or if it was an accidental death." I sighed and said to Li Bo, "Go find Yang Xiaojuan..."
"The cause of death from a high fall is classified as high drop; external injuries may appear minor while internal injuries are severe!" We finally saw Old Qin's body, which was almost unrecognizable. There were multiple fractures, and some red and white fluids were oozing from his mouth and nose—an alarming sight. Yang Xiaojuan continued explaining to us: "The impact point was on his right arm; however, his head, chest, pelvis, spine, and limbs all sustained injuries simultaneously. The bones and internal organs were severely damaged; there were multiple fractures and significant brain tissue contusion..."
"The cause of death is indeed due to falling from a height; neither human force nor tools could have caused this." Yang Xiaojuan stated: "The time of death should be around two in the morning. Additionally, we found no footprints or fingerprints behind or in front of him, which means he wasn't pushed by someone—or if he was, the killer wore gloves."
"The cause of death only confirms that Old Qin fell from a height; it doesn't tell us whether he jumped or was pushed. Furthermore, we still need to determine whether he jumped from his own room or from the rooftop or somewhere else—that remains a question!" I sighed again.
Over the years of my police career, I had become somewhat indifferent to death; however, seeing someone I knew brought an undeniable pang of sorrow. Memories of my interactions with Old Qin flashed through my mind.
I still remembered when I had just come out of prison; Old Qin comforted me by saying: "Xiao Shao, after all these years watching people come and go through this gate, I've seen many things—families of victims crying out in despair, cold-hearted killers, terrified children, and righteous police officers. Everyone in the bureau knows your case; you were wronged. I've spent my life watching this gate at the Public Security Bureau; deep down, I envy you. If I had one wish, it would be to be a police officer like you..."
I recalled him saying: "When you get selected, I'll treat you to spicy hotpot."
The deceased would never know about these matters again, but those who remained must continue with their duties. Although I was just a file manager, Li Bo understood my feelings for Old Qin and brought me along with Juan Juan to the crime scene. The area had already been secured; several officers were questioning neighbors in the building one by one.
The neighborhood was an old one, existing for about a century. The property management was nearly nonexistent, and it seemed that demolition would come soon. The location of Old Qin's death was quite suspicious. As mentioned before, the building where Old Qin lived was the northernmost one, situated about one and a half meters from the community wall. To the north of the wall lay a large abandoned construction site that appeared to have been inactive for a long time. On the side close to the wall, there was a considerable amount of trash scattered on the ground, of various kinds.
Old Qin's body was found on the north side of the wall, meaning he did not die within the community itself. According to nearby residents, they indeed heard a loud thud at around two in the morning. They had turned on their lights to check, but there was nothing downstairs. It was common for people in the building to throw garbage directly onto the construction site outside, and everyone merely cursed those who lacked civic sense for throwing trash in the middle of the night without giving it much thought.
Aunt Li remarked, "Don't ask me; I don't know what's going on. It's really disgraceful; these people have no quality. Throwing trash at night! How are we supposed to sleep?" With that, Aunt Li spat a thick phlegm onto the ground and turned to head upstairs. Another young woman chimed in, "There are perverts lurking around this neighborhood; I've lost three pairs of underwear already!"
With no other options, we went to Uncle Qin's residence on the sixth floor. The apartment was small, about sixty square meters, consisting of two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living room. Qin Xiao had a son who was in elementary school and stayed at school during the week, only returning home on weekends.
As we entered Uncle Qin's room, our eyes were immediately drawn to the window. The wooden window frame had endured years of wind and rain; the red paint had peeled off significantly, and there were plenty of wood shavings falling from the joints. A slight touch would make it creak loudly. Two of the window panes were open, creating a small space through which a person could squeeze if curled up.
I said to Li Bo, "You're still my Second Team leader; what do you think? Have you noticed any issues?"
Li Bo organized his thoughts slightly before responding, "Master, from my perspective, it's unlikely that this was an accidental death. The window is at least over a meter high from the ground, and although it can fit a person through it, Uncle Qin is only about one meter sixty tall. Even if he fell carelessly, he wouldn't just tumble out of the window!"
"In my opinion," Li Bo continued while putting on gloves and touching the old wooden window frame, "this is likely a murder case!"
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