"Come...Xiaohu, eat this piece of chicken..." Aunt Hong put a piece of spicy chicken into Ma Xiaoquan's bowl and said enthusiastically.
Ma Xiaoquan was not polite, picked up the chicken, put it into his mouth, and started to enjoy it.
Zhao Minglan smashed it and said, "You're really not polite, are you?"
Ma Xiaoquan said while eating: "Why are you so polite? Aunt Hong is half my mother. Why are my mother and I so polite?"
Aunt Hong was very happy to hear Ma Xiaoquan call her that, but her eyes also turned red.
Zhao Minglan knew what her mother was thinking of, so she reached out and patted Aunt Hong's back and whispered comfort.
Aunt Hong twitched twice, raised her head and wiped the tears from her face, and said to Ma Xiaoquan: "Xiaohu, you can say that, Aunt Hong is very happy. If you really want to say it, if Aunt Hong's son is still alive, he will be with you."
almost."
Zhao Minglan looked at her mother with some surprise. As a daughter, she had never heard her mother take the initiative to mention her brother.
Ma Xiaoquan nodded: "Aunt Hong, I was just going to ask you, what happened that day?"
Aunt Hong glanced at her daughter Zhao Minglan. Zhao Minglan said yes, giving her mother a positive answer. Aunt Hong took a breath and described what happened on that rainy night to Ma Xiaoquan.
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Inside the police station.
Uncle Zhao is indeed very busy when he becomes the director. Not only is he busy keeping an eye on various cases that occur in the area, but he is also busy writing materials and reporting on the situation.
There were no streamlined regulations in the early 1980s. There were certainly meetings like this, and there were quite a few. However, given the special nature of the police station's work, Uncle Zhao did not need to attend many meetings.
But even if there is no need to go to the office, various reporting materials must be provided. Even if a person in the area loses a shoe, a report must be written.
The room was filled with smoke. Uncle Zhao squinted and wrote quickly on the paper. He was about to finish writing one page. Suddenly, a colleague broke in and shouted: "Director, director, it's not good."
It’s bad, it’s bad.”
A bottle of blue-black ink with the cap unscrewed was in Uncle Zhao's hand. The colleague shouted suddenly, causing Uncle Zhao to knock over the ink bottle.
The blue-black ink instantly stained the report he had just written. Uncle Zhao raised his head depressedly: "What's wrong? Can't you knock on the door first if you have nothing to do?"
The colleague was obviously not used to Uncle Zhao being the director, but he also knew that Uncle Zhao was not the kind of person to care about things. He said anxiously: "Director, you still remember the case we solved some time ago, right? It was Mao Xiaoqiang.
The kidnapping case?”
"Nonsense, let it go!" Uncle Zhao obviously hasn't adapted to his status as the director yet, so he still uses the same tone as before when talking to his colleagues.
"In that house, someone died. He hung himself with his tongue hanging for a long time. It was very penetrating." A colleague described it.
"What?" Uncle Zhao stood up immediately, "Where are the people? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"We only found out after receiving the report. The brothers who went there first have already taken control of the scene. Oops, this person is dead. I'm afraid the higher-ups will have to investigate more closely."
My colleague is right. Although the police station is also responsible for this kind of thing, it is based on the premise that there are no dead people. If there is a dead person, usually the superior unit will lead the investigation.
Uncle Zhao snorted and cursed that he was so damn unlucky.
Indeed, just a few days after Uncle Zhao became the director, there was a case of a dead person. If this matter is not handled well and there is no clear explanation, then he, the director, may have the shortest tenure.
"In this way..." Uncle Zhao thought for a while and said to his colleague, "You go to the riveting factory to find my relative, Ma Xiaohu (Ma Xiaoquan), and take him to the scene of the crime."
My colleagues were puzzled, but they didn’t dare to ask, so they could only do as they were told.
By the time Ma Xiaoquan arrived at the scene of the crime, people were already gathering around the house.
"Uncle Zhao, what's wrong, you come to me in such a hurry?"
Uncle Zhao hummed, pulled Ma Xiaoquan aside, and whispered: "There is a dead person in the private house, which is a bit tricky. I just thought about asking you to come over and help me solve the case."
Ma Xiaoquan also expected that Uncle Zhao would do this, but there were so many people and he was not a policeman, so how could he help solve the case?
Seeing Ma Xiaoquan's hesitation, Uncle Zhao said: "In terms of identity, when someone went to your factory to find you just now, I already told your factory director Zhao."
Ma Xiaoquan said, "Then can I come in and have a look?"
"Follow me~"
After pushing through the crowd, Uncle Zhao and Ma Xiaoquan entered the house.
In the center of the house, a corpse was covered under a yellowed white cloth. Because the white cloth was not large enough, it only covered most of the corpse. Below, a pair of large feet of the corpse were exposed.
Ma Xiaoquan squinted his eyes and knelt down, gently lifted a corner of the white cloth, and took a look at the face under the white cloth.
"How's it going?" Uncle Zhao came over and asked softly.
Ma Xiaoquan shook his head: "This person is very unfamiliar, but he doesn't look like he hanged himself."
"What?" Uncle Zhao was stunned, "You said the old man was hanging by his tongue, but he didn't hang himself to death?"
Ma Xiaoquan shook his head, uncovered the white cloth, exposed the head of the corpse, pointed at the neck and said: "If you hang yourself normally, the strangulation marks on the neck should be relatively spread out, because it is impossible for a person to be strangled during the process.
The struggle can be long or short, but no matter what, it will leave traces of rope abrasion, and if someone dies first or is strangled to death, then the strangulation marks on his neck will be relatively concentrated."
As soon as Ma Xiaoquan finished speaking, a man in a white coat squatting next to him raised his head and glanced at him, stood up and said: "What the young man said is quite correct, but in many details, it is still impossible to tell whether this person died first or not.
Hang yourself."
In the 1980s, there were no forensic doctors in the strict sense. Due to the conditions at that time, many police officers usually invited several doctors from the hospital to take a look at the situation when handling murder cases.
The man in white coat in front of me is the surgeon invited from the hospital. His surname is Liao and his given name is Xiaoqin.
"Dr. Liao, thank you for your hard work~" Uncle Zhao stepped forward and said politely.
Liao Xiaoqin hummed softly, then looked down at the body and asked Ma Xiaoquan: "Do you think this was killed by someone else or someone who was already dead and hung up?"
"Well, the initial judgment is this."
"Where's the evidence?"
Ma Xiaoquan shook his head: "No, I just rely on my feeling."
Ma Xiaoquan definitely doesn't understand forensic medicine, and he doesn't understand surgery either, but he has encountered this kind of thing more than once, and it can't be justified if he has no experience.
Of course, it was impossible for Ma Xiaoquan to tell Liao Xiaoqin about his past experience, so he simply said "just rely on feeling".
Liao Xiaoqin was not angry because of Ma Xiaoquan's assertion. She smiled and said: "It feels quite accurate, but for details, I have to go back and forth with the body for further inspection."
"Ah? Do you want to take away the body?" Uncle Zhao was a little embarrassed when he heard this, "For this matter of dead people, you have to ask the higher-ups for permission."
Liao Xiaoqin nodded to express understanding.
Uncle Zhao also nodded repeatedly and expressed his gratitude to Liao Xiaoqin. After all, he called the city hospital to ask for the patient, and there was no reward for the doctor's attendance. It was completely an obligation. It would be okay if Dr. Liao refused immediately.
inappropriate.
Ma Xiaoquan stood in front of the corpse with his chin in his hands, his eyes slightly narrowed.
This private house is used by Yue Ting's Yu family to store supplies, because he detained Mao Xiaoqiang before and borrowed it. Logically speaking, there is nothing in this private house, and this person cannot be from the Yu family.
Man, then why did this man hang himself or be killed in the storage house of the Yu family?
Thinking of this, Ma Xiaoquan asked Liao Xiaoqin: "Doctor Liao, can you tell how long it has been dead?"
Liao Xiaoqin shook his head: "Preliminary judgment, it is probably what it will look like in one day."
"Within one day..." Ma Xiaoquan scratched his scalp and fell into deep thought.
While Ma Xiaoquan was following Uncle Zhao on the case, Mao Jianhua stood respectfully in front of a man, nodding his head repeatedly to express his gratitude.
The man didn't even look at Mao Jianhua. He just said calmly: "Tell me, why are you thinking about targeting that Zhao Shanhe?"
Mao Jianhua clicked his tongue and said: "Minister, it's not me who said it. Zhao Shanhe is an untamed wolf cub. I once criticized him, but he just refused to stand with us. This kind of person is the most popular in Phoenix City."
It’s better not to exist.”
"Hmph, you, by the way, is Zhao Shanhe's wife named Wang Hong?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, let's call her Wang Hong~"
"Wang Hong, oh, I remember. I remember that more than ten years ago, I seemed to have asked you to find Wang Hong, but you messed up the matter for me. Wang Hong had a miscarriage, right?"
Mao Jianhua was stunned, and sweat immediately oozed from his forehead.
"Such a good experimental embryo, you messed up, and now I have to keep looking for experimental subjects..." The man stood up slowly, "Count it, there are already 9 women.
I have my child."
Mao Jianhua said: "Minister, they all said that your child will not live long. I think they are all nonsense."
The man laughed and clapped his hands. The secret door in the room opened with a click, and a tall and thin child came out and stood in front of Mao Jianhua.
The child wore a mask and his hands were hidden in his long sleeves.
Mao Jianhua snorted and asked: "Minister, this is..."
The minister sneered and said to the child: "Take off the mask."
The child hummed and slowly took off the mask.
Mao Jianhua was short-sighted. He leaned forward and squinted his eyes to take a closer look. He was so frightened that he shouted out.
When he shouted, the tall and thin child in front of him showed an obviously irritable expression.