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墨書 Inktalez
"Not upside down!" Bei Chen exclaimed excitedly to me. "This Hungarian Flag is not upside down at all!"
He rushed over to the National Flag as if he had discovered a new continent.
"Maybe the murderer was careless and didn't notice?" I offered a reason to brush it off. To me, it didn't seem like a big deal and had nothing to do with the case.
Bei Chen seemed not to hear what I said; he stood in front of the National Flag, murmuring to himself. He often did this when he was deep in thought, completely oblivious to the feelings of those around him. Even if you spoke to him, he would remain deaf to your words, focused solely on whether his reasoning was sound.
"Why is the room upside down but the National Flag is not... The murderer must have his reasons for doing this," Bei Chen said, furrowing his brow tightly. Suddenly, his eyes widened. "Zhong Xu..."
Hearing him call my name, I turned my head and asked, "What is it?"
"Show me the cross."
"What?" I felt confused and didn't understand what he meant.
"The files on the Serial Murder Case, the photos of the Cross Necklace left beside the victims—give them to me." Bei Chen's expression was very serious; he wasn't joking.
Reluctantly, I flipped through my folder and pulled out those photos of the necklaces, handing them to Bei Chen.
He held the photos in his hands, scrutinizing them intently. After a long while, he finally returned the pictures to me.
"I think I know something now," Bei Chen said, his tone still icy.
Just as I was about to ask what was going on with Bei Chen, Xiao Zhang walked into the room. "Boss, the victim's father is already at the station. We should head back."
That works; we can investigate the deceased's circumstances at the police station. Based on my years of experience, the killer is usually someone close to the victim, and their motives typically revolve around money or passion.
Bei Chen expressed a willingness to accompany us to the station, which delighted me. Although I wouldn't admit it out loud, I was still looking forward to Bei Chen's performance. After all, in several past cases, we wouldn't have solved them so quickly without Bei Chen's deductive skills.
Once we were in the police car, we sped toward the station.
...
The victim's father was sitting right in front of us.
His name was Fang Peijun, 58 years old. He didn't look as old as his age suggested; there weren't many wrinkles on his face. From the contours of his features, it was clear that he bore a resemblance to the deceased.
"Who killed my daughter?" he demanded as soon as he saw me; that was his first sentence.
"We're currently investigating. Please trust us, sir; we will catch the murderer," Xiao Zhang immediately stepped in to ease the tension beside me.
"Trust? Even if you catch them, what difference does it make? My daughter is gone—forever gone..." The old man bent over, covering his face with his hands as he wept. "I've lost everything; my hope is gone."
"But you could receive a substantial insurance payout," Bei Chen said coldly.
Fang Peijun's trembling shoulders suddenly stilled as he lifted his head to look at Bei Chen. I sensed trouble brewing and was about to say something when Fang Peijun suddenly roared, "Insurance payout? What, do you think I killed my own daughter? She's dead! What would I do with that money? Ah!"
“Mr. Fang, please don’t be angry. My colleague didn’t mean it that way. He just wanted to comfort you; he’s just a bit clumsy with his words. Please don’t take it to heart.” I stood up and repeatedly apologized.
Bei Chen is always so sarcastic; I doubt he’ll ever change this bad habit of his.
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