The weapon by the pillow

Chapter 96 Death Warning

Yang Hong sat blankly in her office. The sun was shining brightly outside the window, but she couldn't feel any warmth at all.

She knew that this time, she had messed things up.

She felt a pang of regret.

Just today, I had some big ideas on how to gain some capital for myself, but before I could even make a move, someone cut off my resources at the root of the problem...

The investigators may have just set off, may not have even knocked on the suspect's door yet, and may not have even activated the wiretapping service...

They killed Jin Xiaohao so cleanly and efficiently, without even realizing it themselves...

"Like crushing an ant!" she remembered them saying that often.

She sensed the warning from them and felt the pressure they were putting on her.

I felt even more insignificant.

Like an ant. In Jiangzhou, he was probably just a nobody, like Jin Xiaohao. If he obeyed, he could be arrogant and suave; if he disobeyed, he might quietly disappear, becoming a pile of rotting flesh and mud...

The case files on the table were spread out, with Jin Xiaohao's preliminary autopsy report on top.

Time of death: Between 8 pm and 10 pm.

Cause of death: Asphyxiation. There were no signs of struggle or unauthorized entry at the scene. The guard said that Jin Xiaohao had been quiet and even asked for water in the afternoon. Then, during shift change, he was found hanged with a rope made of a bed sheet.

The bedsheets were provided by the detention center; they were of ordinary material and sufficient length. Surveillance footage showed that at 8:42 PM, Jin Xiaohao sat up in bed, sat in the dark for ten minutes, and then began tearing the sheet. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he were doing a routine chore. At 8:58 PM, he draped the rope made from the sheet over the iron bars of the window and tied a knot. At 9:3 PM, he put his head through the noose. At 9:5 PM, his body stopped struggling.

Everything looked like suicide.

But Yang Hong knew that wasn't it.

Would someone who has just been arrested, whose confession is not yet fully confirmed, and who knows they may face the death penalty, commit suicide so calmly? Would they choose to hang themselves with a bed sheet at 9 pm without any warning or last words?

More importantly, Kim Si-ho is a key piece in this game.

Although he was just taking the blame for someone else, and although he was just a nobody, he had intricate connections with those people.

With his death, many leads went cold. Who would most want him dead?

It's not the police, it's not the media, it's the behind-the-scenes manipulators, the people who are afraid of the truth being exposed.

The phone rang at that moment.

Yang Hong felt a little flustered.

She stared at the red landline in front of her, suddenly feeling afraid to answer it. It was an internal line, and not many people knew this number.

She took a deep breath and picked up the receiver.

"Yang Hong." It was a man's voice on the other end of the phone, deep and slightly hoarse. She was stunned for a moment, unable to recognize who it was.

"I am. And you are?" she asked cautiously.

"Handle Jin Xiaohao's matter cleanly." The other party did not reveal his identity, and his tone was as calm as if he were instructing someone on a routine task. "The autopsy report must be clear: suicide, no doubts. As for the family, do a good job of comforting them, and make sure that all compensation is paid in full. As for the media, keep the same story: the suspect committed suicide out of guilt, and the case is still under further investigation."

"But..." Yang Hong wanted to say, "But this is too obvious, but there are suspicious points at the scene, but..."

"No buts." The other person interrupted her and continued, "This is the order from above. This case is closed. Jin Xiaohao was the mastermind, he has confessed, and now he has committed suicide out of guilt, which is perfectly reasonable. Don't try anything else, and don't investigate any further."

"Where's Liu Li?" Yang Hong couldn't help but ask, "And what about that body in room 402..."

"Liu Li is dead." The other person's voice turned colder. "The body in room 402 is hers. As for why there are two Liu Lis, that's a technical issue; it could be plastic surgery, or it could be a body double—it's not important. What's important is that the connection to Liu Li has been severed. Do you understand?"

Yang Hong's fingers, gripping the receiver, turned slightly white. She understood, she understood all too well. This was to make her take the blame, to make her pour the dirty water on herself, and then shut her mouth.

"What about Cheng Jing?" she asked again. "She's investigating..."

"Cheng Jing has been suspended from her duties," the other party said. "She will no longer interfere in this case. As for her private investigation... that's her personal matter and has nothing to do with the police. If she oversteps her bounds, someone will handle it."

The threat in those words couldn't be clearer. Yang Hong felt a chill, not for herself, but for many others.

"I...I need time," she said.

"You only have twenty-four hours," the other party said. "By this time tomorrow, I want to see the case report. The report must be complete and flawless. Yang Hong, this is your chance. Do well, and you might get a promotion. Don't do well..."

The other person didn't finish speaking, but Yang Hong understood.

If she doesn't do well, her fate won't be much better than Kim Siu-ho's.

The phone hangs up.

Yang Hong slowly put down the receiver, her palms sweaty.

She walked to the window and looked down at the bustling streets. The city seemed so normal, so orderly. But beneath this glamorous surface, how much darkness lurked? How many secrets were buried?

She thought of Cheng Jing. That stubborn woman, how could she possibly be content? Perhaps she's somewhere right now, risking her life to investigate the truth.

But he himself had to cover it all up.

Yang Hong closed her eyes.

Twenty-four hours. She only has twenty-four hours.

Meanwhile, on the top floor of Ahao Music Tea House, in the "Listening to the Rain Pavilion" private room.

The atmosphere at the card table was just like that of the Middle East today.

The photos thrown by the gunman were scattered on the green velvet cloth—thirteen black-and-white images, thirteen mutilated hands. Fang Jie's face was as white as paper; her breathing became heavy, her fingers gripped the edge of the table tightly, and her body trembled slightly.

"Where did you come from..." Her voice became indistinct.

"Where I got them isn't important," the man said calmly. "What's important is that these photos are real. These thirteen people were either holdouts in the Anpingli redevelopment project or their family members. They died or went missing 'accidentally' during the demolition process, and each of them was missing a finger. And in your collection box, there happen to be thirteen finger bone dice. Coincidence?"

Fangjie's lips trembled; she wanted to say something, but then she shook her head.

Cheng Tan looked at the photos, then at the bone dice on the table, and a series of questions connected to another story.

All the clues began to connect—the demolition case thirteen years ago, Jin Dafu's family massacre, Liu Li's secret, the bone dice, the bloodstained mahjong tiles…

And later, the murder weapon beside my pillow...

"You're wrong, this isn't a collection," Cheng Tan suddenly said. "This is a memorial to sin. Or rather... a death warning."