Chapter 2698

Seeing the drastic change in Wen Sanmao's face, Yu Xiangjun's eyes flickered, and he spoke softly: "Wen Liang, you are guilty of smuggling fur clothing to Russia, and your accomplices have already been caught in the north—you can say the evidence is solid. Added to the case from six years ago, you are doomed."

Yu Xiangjun tapped his fingers slightly harder on the table: "If the rape-murder case from six years ago wasn't committed by you, even if it's related to you, as long as you confess honestly, it counts as major meritorious service, and perhaps your life could be spared."

Wen Sanmao's pale face instantly regained a hint of color, and his eyes gradually lit up: "Really? Can my life be spared?"

Actually, Wen Sanmao knew better than anyone in his heart that even without mentioning smuggling, the other things he had done were enough to get him shot. He had simply persisted in not confessing, still harboring侥幸, believing the people behind him could get him out.

"I don't want to lie to you—I can't guarantee you'll live, but I can guarantee that if you don't strive for meritorious service, you will surely die."

Wen Sanmao's hopeful heart sank again, and then he lowered his head and said nothing. He was just stalling, waiting for the people behind him to get him out.

As an experienced, battle-hardened veteran criminal investigator, Yu Xiangjun's keen insight and meticulous observation were instinctive. By observing a suspect's facial expressions and minute movements, he could guess seven or eight out of ten of what was on their mind.

"Wen Liang, this place is neither the Donghuamen Police Station nor the Xicheng Branch—no one can find this place."

Wen Sanmao slowly raised his head, his gaze landing on Yu Xiangjun's face, then lowered it again, remaining silent. For such an old oil slick, Yu Xiangjun had always possessed extraordinary patience, and his tone remained calm and unhurried as he spoke.

"Wen Liang, I know exactly what you're thinking in your heart. So don't cling to unrealistic fantasies anymore—no one can find this place. In other words, even if some people know you're here, who would dare to protect you given your smuggling case plus the six-year-old rape-murder case?"

Saying this, Yu Xiangjun's tone suddenly turned icy cold, like the depths of winter: "Your head is not as valuable as the chair beneath someone else's backside. They wouldn't be foolish enough to kick over the chair beneath their backside for a dog like you, and lose their official hat."

Another bead of sweat appeared on Wen Sanmao's forehead—he wasn't a fool, he had considered this situation before. It was just unwillingness, still clinging to侥幸. Now, having been ruthlessly exposed by Yu Xiangjun, the fear of death instantly filled his heart.

A barely perceptible smile curled at the corner of Yu Xiangjun's mouth. Wen Sanmao's psychological defenses were slowly collapsing, and he pressed on: "Now you can only save yourself—confess clearly about the rape-murder case from six years ago. As long as it's not too closely related to you, the chance of sparing your head is still quite high."

Sweat on Wen Sanmao's forehead trickled down along his sideburns. His heart underwent intense struggle. After ten or more minutes, this fellow could no longer hold out, and he slowly raised his head to speak.

"The rape-murder case from six years ago has nothing to do with me. If there is any connection, it's only that I was present that day and witnessed everything with my own eyes."

Yu Xiangjun took out a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, stood up, walked over to Wen Sanmao, and placed the cigarette to his lips: "Striving for meritorious service is the wise move—go on."

Wen Sanmao took several puffs in succession, then exhaled a long breath. Having held out for so many days, especially thinking that Hong Jinyan had also been brought here and didn't know when he would confess, that thread in his heart had already been stretched to its limit. It was only because he still harbored a sliver of侥幸 that he had persisted until now.

"I don't remember the exact time, but I remember it was drizzling that day. Scarred Head called me, saying he had caught a few piglets and wanted to present them as tribute to a noble."

Yu Xiangjun's heart stirred—he was also very curious about who this noble was, but also slightly worried. He feared that if this noble's status was too high, once touched, his small frame might not be able to withstand it.

Wen Sanmao took another puff, his voice trembling slightly: "That noble had a hobby—he liked young ones. I brought that noble to Scarred Head's place, and Scarred Head arranged two of the captured piglets, one fourteen years old, one fifteen years old."

"But that day, the noble seemed especially excited, went too far in his play, and one piglet just lost breath. Then, the noble made a phone call, and afterward had Scarred Head throw the dead piglet to a designated location."

Hearing Wen Sanmao's words, Yu Xiangjun recalled that old case, his eyes suddenly began to twitch violently, his hair felt as if grabbed by a large hand, and his scalp tightened in waves.

"Go on!" Yu Xiangjun took a deep breath, lit another cigarette himself, and struggled to calm the uneasy waves in his heart. Although he still didn't know who this noble was, he had already guessed who was cleaning up after him.

Wen Sanmao took another hard drag, and as the smoke drifted out of his mouth, slowly rising and finally dissipating into the air: "Actually, there's not much to say about this—handling the piglets was done by Scarred Head's underlings at his direction. I didn't know where they were thrown at the time, only found out later from the news."

Yu Xiangjun's heart had already begun to drum the retreat. At this moment, he very much wanted to get up and leave, stop investigating this case, and as for who that mysterious noble was, he didn't want to know either.

But having been a police officer for half a lifetime, the sense of duty and mission in his heart prevented him from deserting. Yet he knew his small frame was too frail—he couldn't bear this case, so he immediately stood up.

"Take a break—I'm going out for a bit."

Without even waiting for Old Qian, who was in charge of the record, to respond, Yu Xiangjun strode out, left the small building, then drove away. Finally, he parked his car beside a telephone booth on the roadside.

The level involved in the rape-murder case might be very high—this is no longer something one person can handle alone; it must be reported to the bureau chief. After all, the bureau chief's shoulders are much broader than his.

Yu Xiangjun inserted a coin, picked up the phone, and dialed Huang Senwei's office. Soon, the receiver carried Huang Senwei's voice: "Hello, this is the Xicheng Branch, I am Huang Senwei."

"Chief Huang!" Yu Xiangjun said: "I am Xiangjun—there's been a hiccup in the six-year-old case."

Huang Senwei said, quite puzzled: "What hiccup? Did Du Zai give a false confession?"

"No!" Yu Xiangjun detailed the case from back then, almost identical to what Wen Sanmao had confessed: "When this case occurred back then, I was still the captain of the criminal police team.

After receiving the alarm, I personally led the team out. But by the time I brought the people to the scene, the then deputy chief of the Municipal Bureau, Wang Jianfeng, was already there with his people, inspecting the scene.

The reason given was that they had come back from handling a case, happened to pass by, and thus naturally took over the case. After they took it over, they investigated for three months with not a single clue, and finally sent the case back to the branch.

At the time, none of us thought much of it, but now, based on Wen Sanmao's confession, Wang Jianfeng's appearance at the crime scene might not have been coincidental. His taking over the case was not to pursue the killer, but to erase clues."