Chapter 960

Standing in the internal restroom of the Criminal Investigation Brigade, Jiang Yuan listened to Cui Qi’s words and had already formed suspicions, but still asked: “Just say it outright.”

“Alright.” Cui Qi sighed deeply. “I’ll cut to the chase. Last night at dawn, Xiao Si and another young detective, Wei Changxue, were interrogating a suspect. At 2 a.m., the suspect requested to use the restroom, so Wei Changxue brought him to the bathroom, cuffed him to the toilet, and let him go alone. The suspect vanished. At 6 a.m., the two reported he had escaped.”

In just those few sentences, Jiang Yuan could detect multiple violations.

Jiang Yuan said nothing, only asked: “Why are you coming to me?”

“Ideally, we get him back.” Cui Qi watched Jiang Yuan’s expression, then sighed helplessly. “The suspect is linked to a series of home burglaries—he has lock-picking skills. Theoretically, he could escape on his own. As for Xiao Si, yeah, he’s got a foul mouth, but I still trust him. At the very least, I believe he wouldn’t resort to torture.”

They were all detectives, so everyone knew the core issue.

A suspect escaping and evidence disappearing was the most humiliating failure for detectives—and inevitably led to disciplinary action.

But not all disciplinary actions are the same.

Simply losing a suspect was a stupid mistake, but if he was caught again, it was still manageable.

But if he wasn’t caught, every violation would become a problem.

Was interrogation still necessary at 2 a.m.?

Were the interrogation procedures compliant? With the Zhengguang Bureau’s resources, how could a suspect escape? And why did he escape? Was there torture involved?

If the Inspectorate investigates these points, how do you prove your innocence?

Finally, if the thief simply vanished, that’s one thing—but what if he commits more crimes? What if he’s destitute outside and turns to robbery? What if he breaks into homes again, escalating to home invasions? What if those escalate to murder?

With over 2,000 police bureaus and nearly 50,000 precincts nationwide—not even counting independent detective units—suspect escapes inevitably happen with some probability. Every officer knows what problems and risks follow.

Jiang Yuan now roughly understood what Cui Qi wanted. He asked first: “The suspect escaped at 2 a.m. and was reported missing at 6 a.m.—did they investigate themselves during those four hours?”

“Yes.” Cui Qi answered frankly. “They checked surveillance. The suspect climbed out the bathroom window, scaled a side wall, jumped over the courtyard fence, stole a shared bicycle, rode several kilometers west, then vanished from all cameras.”

“Completely vanished?”

“When Xiao Si reported it at 6 a.m., Director Tao had Tuxun personnel help track him. They followed for a few more kilometers, but lost him.” Cui Qi exhaled, feeling a wave of frustration.

Jiang Yuan now studied the bathroom window carefully. “How serious is this suspect’s case?”

“Home burglary, series case, repeat offender. Still unclear if solo or gang. Total stolen value exceeds a million. If convicted, seven years minimum.” Cui Qi sighed. “The suspect is in his thirties, no children, no wife. He’d rather flee than go to prison.”

Communication among police officers carried shared assumptions—Jiang Yuan’s questions and Cui Qi’s answers were no exception.

Life on the run is brutal. With China’s electronic surveillance and big data, fugitives’ access to daily conveniences has plummeted. Many habitual offenders now debate whether to turn themselves in.

For this suspect, long-term escape is unrealistic. Even the simplest method—posting his info online for nationwide manhunt—means facial recognition alone could trap him. Using public services? Even harder.

Some low-level fugitives, though not yet caught, find life increasingly unbearable. Eventually, many live worse than in prison—and choose to surrender.

Applied to this suspect: a three- to four-year sentence isn’t worth fleeing. Seven years is long, but escaping from the bureau means he’ll be flagged online. If caught again, his sentence will be heavier. It’s not worth it.

But for Cui Qi’s team, especially for Xiao Si and Wei Changxue, this is devastating.

Jiang Yuan slowly shook his head. He had already examined the windowsill and the broken handcuffs. “There are signs of self-lock-picking, but these don’t prove anything…”

“We’re worried he’ll flee abroad.” Cui Qi sighed. “Year-end’s coming. If we don’t resolve this in two days, Xiao Si’s career is over.”

The first two days are critical for catching fugitives. He has no money or belongings—food, transport, lodging are all problems. Any slip-up means capture.

But if those two days pass, the difficulty of finding him doubles.

“Alright. I’ll help you look. Should I have Huang Zhengwei talk to Director Tao?” Jiang Yuan clearly wouldn’t take full responsibility for the case.

“Yes, yes…” Cui Qi gripped Jiang Yuan’s hand tightly. “Comrade Jiang, on behalf of the whole team, thank you… After this case ends, I’ll find you a few bodies…”

“No need for such courtesy.” Jiang Yuan stopped Cui Qi’s eager gesture. “Where’s Xiao Si?”

“I’ll take you there.” Cui Qi led Jiang Yuan out.

Outside, Wang Chuanxing, Mu Zhiyang, and others stared, faces etched with detective grimness.

“See the man first.” Jiang Yuan didn’t explain further. He called Huang Qiangmin.

Upstairs, not far, they entered a small room. Inside, Xiao Si and the young detective sat facing each other.

Seeing Cui Qi enter, the young detective’s eyes instantly reddened.

Cui Qi chuckled. “Look who I brought you. Now that Comrade Jiang is here, even if the suspect turned to ash, we’ll sweep him back!”

Cui Qi turned to Jiang Yuan. “Wei Changxue is our new detective—honest, hardworking. Xiao Si is his mentor. Xiao Wei, you’ve been saying you never met Comrade Jiang, right? He flew here specially for you.”

Wei Changxue looked defeated. “But it’s probably too late already.”

“Who told you that? The suspect’s been gone twelve hours—we’ve got time.” Cui Qi tried to correct Wei Changxue’s attitude.

Wei Changxue looked at Xiao Si. “My master said so.”

“Xiao Si!” Cui Qi glared at him.

“I didn’t say anything.” Xiao Si’s mood wasn’t good either—he frowned slightly.

“You didn’t say anything? You scared the kid half to death!” Cui Qi snapped. “Just tell me what you said.”

Xiao Si sighed. “Wei Changxue asked if I’d ever encountered a similar case. I told him I hadn’t, but we’ve had suspects escape before. I walked him through each case, from the end backward—what happened, and what happened to those senior officers.”

“No good endings.” Wei Changxue’s voice dripped with resignation.

“You think I’m telling you a love story?” Xiao Si sneered. “In this line, getting a reprimand is the best you can hope for.”