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墨書 Inktalez
I stood in the room, resting my chin on my hand, feeling that something was off about this house, though I couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. However, I did find Zhang Bin's fingerprints here, which at least confirmed that he had been here.
I turned to Zhao Li and asked, "Does that man in black come here often? How long does he usually stay?"
Zhao Li thought for a moment before replying, "At first, he was always here. At night, he would sleep outside. Later on, he wasn't always around; sometimes he would go out. When he left, he would gag me and tie me up tightly."
"Then how did you eat?" I inquired.
"He fed me and gave me water," Zhao Li said. "He also gave me a little time to use the bathroom."
As Zhao Li recalled her experience, I observed her expressions closely. When she spoke, her eyes drifted to the upper right corner—a typical sign of thinking. She slightly furrowed her brows, her hands hanging neatly by her sides. All of this indicated that she was not lying.
Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that Zhao Li's description didn't quite match Zhang Bin. Could Zhang Bin really be so gentlemanly?
Guan Zengbin remarked, "We only found a thumbprint; there are no other traces. Moreover, it seems someone has cleaned up the scene."
Someone had cleaned up, yet only a thumbprint remained. That seemed odd, but I couldn't say much more. Guan Zengbin also seemed to sense something was off but kept quiet. A few of us were silently watching me when I finally spoke up: "Let's locate the real estate agent first, then we can investigate Zhang Bin's medical records."
However, when we found the real estate agent, they informed us that the person who rented the house did not match the photo of Zhang Bin. The renter was dressed entirely in black, wearing a hat and a mask. Given it was winter, such attire was quite normal, and the agent didn't think much of it.
It appeared that Zhang Bin had been very cautious when renting this place. He didn't reveal his true appearance and seemed to have cleaned up any traces before leaving. Yet he hadn't cleaned thoroughly enough to remove his thumbprint. Had Zhang Bin assaulted Zhao Li and then fled?
We had the agent carefully compare the photos; even if they couldn't see the face, at least they could assess the body shape. After several comparisons, the agent felt it looked similar yet different—there was no definitive conclusion. Just as we were about to give up, the agent shared an intriguing detail.
The renter had specifically asked about how Zhao Li felt about the place because although it was nice, its location was somewhat remote; yet this person seemed very satisfied.
Then the agent recalled hearing him mumble to himself: "Once this is done, it will all be over."
The date of the apartment rental was, to be precise, less than a month ago. This was after Du Ziguo went missing, after Wang An injured Zhang Bin's arm, and after Hao Ren disappeared. But what happened to these people? Two living individuals just vanished in this small city?
Mary provided us with Zhang Bin's medical records, revealing that he had received treatment for his knife wound at Yumu City First People's Hospital about a month ago. The doctor had inquired about the source of the injury. Zhang Bin did not say it was inflicted by a student; rather, it was caused by a madman.
At that time, Wang An had struck hard, and the wound on Zhang Bin's arm was deep. If it weren't for the thick down jacket he was wearing in winter, those two strikes would have likely exposed bone. The doctor treated Zhang Bin, bandaged him up, and advised him to return for regular medication changes. According to the medical records, Zhang Bin followed this advice.
He had never missed a dressing change; today marked the fourth time. It was highly likely that Zhang Bin would come to this place.
With this thought in mind, we called a taxi for Zhao Li and instructed her to return to the City Bureau first, where arrangements would be made for her and her brother's accommodation. Meanwhile, we drove towards Yumu City First People's Hospital, which took just over half an hour. We also located Zhang Bin's attending physician.
At that moment, we were sitting in front of him.
After clearly stating our identities, the attending physician shared a detail with us.
There were four people accompanying Zhang Bin during his visit, and when we showed him photos of Zhang Bin and the other three individuals, he quickly recognized Zheng Shuai and Cheng Yimin as two of them. However, we did not know who the fourth person was. The attending physician informed us that this person must have been an addict.
The attending physician was experienced and could tell at a glance.
Then he told us that Zhang Bin referred to that person as Du Ziguo.
My mind buzzed as I suddenly recalled the white powder I had found on Zhang Bin's bed.
It was indeed drugs.
Zhang Bin did not use drugs; so who did he give his drugs to? Suddenly, a thought struck me, causing me to tremble. A month ago, if Du Ziguo had used drugs, then for drugs, these people could do anything.
Guan Zengbin clearly knew more about this matter than I did. When I asked how long it takes for someone to become addicted to drugs, Guan Zengbin cleared his throat and began: "Drug addiction is primarily manifested in three aspects: physical dependence, psychological dependence, and drug dependence."
I truly did not understand this aspect, so I listened like a student to Guan Zengbin as he continued, "Physical dependence refers to the body's reliance on drugs. The central nervous system develops a state of adaptation due to long-term drug dependence. After using drugs, an addict must maintain a sufficient amount of drugs to keep their physiological state normal. Once they stop, a series of painful physiological reactions will occur."
Guan Zengbin raised his second finger and added, "Psychological dependence refers to the pleasure and satisfaction that comes from using drugs. This satisfaction leads addicts to develop a strong craving for drugs and a continuous desire to use them. Some have conducted surveys on this matter, and if we were to rank pleasurable activities in life, sex would score only three points, while drug use would score as high as seven."
"The third type is substance addiction." Guan Zengbin raised his third finger: "This point is different from the previous two and should be considered separately. In fact, many substances we commonly use can lead to addiction. For example, some sedatives, sleeping pills, and painkillers contain addictive components. In reality, drugs are indeed harmful. Sometimes, in an effort to quit drugs, people end up relying on other substances..."
We listened in confusion but could generally grasp that once someone starts using drugs, it is very difficult to quit.
I asked, "So how long does it take for someone to become addicted after using drugs?"
Guan Zengbin furrowed his brow: "I've said so much just to emphasize that this matter is not easy. Everyone has different levels of dependence, and social factors play a significant role. If an addict never has access to drugs throughout their life, then nothing will happen."
He shook his head: "However, if an addict is in an environment where drugs are available, they will find a way to obtain them. Because they know they will eventually get them, and the pleasure they experience afterward is enough to outweigh the effort, time, and money spent searching for drugs."
"In other words," I looked at Guan Zengbin and said, "in reality, no one ever quits?"
Guan Zengbin shook his head: "Those who can quit drugs truly possess remarkable willpower. I suddenly remembered a joke about a guy who quit smoking just to pursue a girl. But then the girl's mother said he was not the kind of man she wanted."
"Why not?" The doctor was clearly intrigued by this joke.
Guan Zengbin chuckled and replied, "A man who can quit smoking—what can't he do?"
After sharing a laugh, Guan Zengbin continued: "In real life, how many people try to quit smoking but fail? So quitting drugs is even more difficult. After using them just a few times, they become lifelong companions. Therefore, it's best not to touch such things from the start."
Given all this information, I felt it was necessary to investigate this matter thoroughly.
Just as we were talking, someone suddenly pushed open the door and walked in. When we saw this person, everyone was taken aback because it was none other than Zhang Bin—the very person we had been eager to find.
Zhang Bin was still wearing that brown trench coat, with a scarf wrapped around his neck.
He clearly noticed us as well, and after a moment of hesitation, he tried to run outside.
Gu Chen was quick on his feet, standing up and rushing out immediately.
Before we could react, Gu Chen had already returned, gripping Zhang Bin's arm. He was holding Zhang Bin's left arm, where there was an obvious wound. It was evident that Zhang Bin was in excruciating pain; soon, sweat streamed down his face like rain.
Zhang Bin recognized us and exclaimed, "Why is it you again? Let go of me, it hurts. Let go of me! The police are hitting people, the police are hitting people!"
Gu Chen kicked him in the back of the knee, causing Zhang Bin to tumble to the ground.
I looked at Zhang Bin lying on the floor and said, "You made it hard for us to find you; you've been missing for quite a while. Tell me, do you know why we are looking for you?"
Zhang Bin's eyes darted around as he replied, "How would I know why you came looking for me? I have no idea."
Gu Chen glanced at him and said, "You're really stubborn. We'll have a good talk when we get back to the interrogation room."
But Zhang Bin wore an expression of feigned ignorance and said, "Why are you arresting me? I haven't done anything."
"Done nothing?" I asked. "Where did the injury on your arm come from?"
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