A single drop of blood? And it was behind the ear.
This meant that the blood was likely from the killer. While it was possible for the victim’s blood to be smeared behind the ear, it would never just drip there naturally.
Another possibility was that the killer’s hand, stained with the victim’s blood, had dripped it behind the ear.
Having worked with Dr. Jin on several cases, Meng Jin knew her habits well. He enjoyed working with her because they both shared the same traits—impatience, efficiency, and a dislike for dragging things out.
Since Dr. Jin had said the blood was “very likely” from the killer, it meant she had already tested the blood type. The blood type didn’t match the victim’s, so it couldn’t be his. And if it wasn’t the victim’s, then it was very likely the killer’s.
This was a crucial clue.
To Meng Jin, solving a case was like piecing together a jigsaw puzzle. At first, it’s hard to know where to start. But once you find a distinctive piece, you can begin to assemble the surrounding pieces. Slowly but surely, the image comes together, and the picture is the face of the killer.
Excitement flickered across Meng Jin’s face after he hung up the phone. He returned to the sitting area and looked at Jennie Yang.
Jennie raised her head and met his gaze.
Meng Jin smiled and said, “Good news, Chairwoman Yang. We’ll catch the killer soon. The forensic team found a drop of blood behind your husband’s ear, likely left by the killer.”
With a soft “plop,” the sugar cube that Jennie had been holding slipped from her fingers and into her coffee cup. A small splash of coffee sprayed out, with two droplets landing on the table and two more on Jennie’s pale hand.
She seemed startled.
Zhao Yunzhi felt a surge of excitement. Jennie had finally shown some reaction. Her suspicion level just skyrocketed—it wasn’t necessarily that she committed the murder herself, but she might have hired someone to do it, and that drop of blood could belong to the hitman.
Jennie Yang quickly composed herself, her face showing no signs of distress. With a smile, she said, “That’s wonderful. I trust the killer will be caught soon. It’s not like it was twenty years ago.”
There was something odd about what she said, though the thought quickly passed from Meng Jin’s mind. Much later, when he recalled this detail, he would finally understand what felt off about her statement.
He had also noticed that brief moment of panic. His probe had worked. Upon hearing that the killer had left a flaw, Jennie had momentarily lost her composure. Her previous calm demeanor had been nothing but a well-rehearsed facade.
Meng Jin sat back down on the sofa and continued the questioning. “Did your husband have any enemies? Or to be direct, do you have any suspects?”
Jennie thought for a moment and replied, “We’ve been in business for decades, building a company from a small factory of a few dozen people to a nationally recognized enterprise. Naturally, we’ve made enemies along the way. Fangzheng Group has forced hundreds of small businesses out of the market. Some owners even committed suicide. Recently, my husband had been living with that woman, so we didn’t talk much. I’m not sure if he made any new enemies.”
With the basic questioning done, Meng Jin invited Jennie to the police station to identify the body. “You can ride in our car if you like. You can bring your secretary too; there’s enough space.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was unlikely. Jennie Yang was no ordinary citizen. She was the chairwoman of a major corporation. It wasn’t about comfort; even if the police car were a luxury limousine, there were appearances to consider. People might think she’d done something wrong if they saw her in a police car.
As expected, Jennie smiled gracefully and politely declined, saying she would have her driver take her there.
The next time Meng Jin saw Jennie, she had changed into a black suit. Her shoes had switched from red to black, and she now wore a small black hat with dark sunglasses that made her pale complexion appear even more delicate.
Her once-intimidating aura had disappeared, replaced by a solemn demeanor. She now looked more like a vulnerable and grieving widow, yet she still carried an air of elegance in her every move.
“She must have been a stunner when she was young. I bet she was a model for fashion magazines,” Zhao Yunzhi murmured, unintentionally voicing his thoughts.
“What model? She’s just a village girl. Spend less time reading fashion magazines and more time on Baidu,” Meng Jin quipped, flicking his cigarette into a trash can three meters away.
Zhao pulled Liu Tianshi’s body out from the refrigerated storage. The corpse exuded a faint chill, stiff as a board, with a pale gray face. His eyes were shut tight, and his mouth hung slightly open as if he had some last words left unsaid.
Jennie glanced at the body and nodded. “It’s him.”
Without another word, she turned and left the morgue. Meng Jin followed her out, asking, “Don’t you want to know how he died?”
“I assumed that was confidential. Since you didn’t tell me, I didn’t ask.” She walked past a window and stood in the shadowy part of the hallway.
She didn’t ask anything, instead taking out a box of cigarettes and a lighter from her bag. “Can I smoke here?”
Meng Jin nodded.
She lit a cigarette, took a couple of puffs, and remained silent, as if saying: If you want to talk, talk; if not, don’t.
“The preliminary forensic report suggests he was stabbed to death with a sharp weapon. His kidney was ruptured, and he bled to death. The exact cause of death will need to be confirmed with an autopsy,” Meng Jin explained.
In criminal cases, an autopsy didn’t require family consent; they were only notified.
“Well, the cause seems pretty clear. If you think an autopsy is necessary, go ahead. I’ll cooperate with the investigation in any way I can,” Jennie replied, maintaining her composed and humble tone, showing just the right level of respect without coming across as obsequious.
As she walked past Zhao Yunzhi on her way out, she nodded and smiled. Zhao, caught off guard, returned the smile awkwardly.
Suddenly, Jennie seemed to remember something. She stopped, glanced at a nearby trash can, and made a motion to put out her cigarette on its edge. She hesitated, though, and instead took another drag before holding it between her fingers again.
“Captain Meng, may I ask for a small favor?” she asked.
“Go ahead,” Meng Jin replied.
“How many people know about Liu Tianshi’s death? Could you keep it confidential for three days while I handle matters at the company? I hope you can understand.”
Liu Tianshi was the largest shareholder of Fangzheng Group. His sudden death would certainly cause a major upheaval in the company’s board. Jennie Yang clearly had concerns about managing the fallout.
“I understand. No problem.”
She took a business card from her elegant purse and handed it to Zhao, smiling warmly. “If you need my cooperation, feel free to contact me anytime.”
Zhao was left in a daze, staring after Jennie as she got into her car. His excitement lingered long after she had driven off.
Meng Jin gave him a heavy pat on the shoulder and sneered, “Still saluting her car, huh? Didn’t know you were such a gold digger.”
Zhao turned back, a bit sheepish. “But she’s the chairwoman of a billion-dollar company, and she personally handed me her card! Who wouldn’t be excited?”
“I’m not. What does her status have to do with you? Is she going to give you a cut of that billion?”
As Meng Jin made his way back toward the autopsy room, he thought that Zhao’s emotional nature wasn’t ideal for a detective. He was too likely to let personal feelings get in the way of his work.
But then again, Meng Jin remembered how green he had been when he first started. He had made plenty of mistakes himself and had hoped his superiors would be patient with him. Now that he was the superior, why couldn’t he show the same patience with Zhao?
He recalled the moment Jennie Yang had hesitated to extinguish her cigarette. That brief pause hinted at inner turmoil. Her emotions had finally been affected.
Comparing the two moments—her initial calm when she heard of her husband’s murder and her later composed demeanor—made him realize the former was genuine while the latter was a facade.
What had disturbed her? Was it the harsh reality of seeing her husband’s dead body, or was she anxious about the evidence left behind by the killer?
As he recalled her behavior in the morgue, he noted that Jennie hadn’t cried or collapsed in grief. She hadn’t even shed a single tear. It was as if she were facing a stranger.
Her lack of reaction was itself a reaction.
By the time Meng Jin returned to the autopsy room, he still hadn’t pieced it all together.
Liu Tianshi’s body had been returned to the autopsy table. Dr. Jin was preparing for the procedure, arranging her tools, washing her hands, and putting on gloves and a mask.
Without waiting for Meng Jin to speak, Dr. Jin said, “The blood type doesn’t match. The drop of blood behind the ear isn’t the victim’s; it’s most likely the killer’s or an accomplice’s.”
“An accomplice? What makes you say that?” Meng Jin bent down to inspect the body. He first checked the left ear but saw no trace of blood.
“Right side,” Dr. Jin reminded him.
Meng Jin walked around to the right and bent down again. Sure enough, there was a drop of blood behind the ear, in a spot that was hard to see unless you were specifically looking for it.
How did blood end up there? After thinking for a moment, Meng Jin understood why Dr. Jin had mentioned an accomplice.
“There are no signs that the body was dragged?” Just to be sure, he asked.
“None. There are no marks on the clothes, body, or plastic wrap,” Dr. Jin confirmed, picking up her scalpel and making the first incision on the chest. The sound of skin being cut was faint but distinct.
For blood to have dripped behind the ear, there was only one possibility: someone standing behind or to the right of the body. Since there were no drag marks, and Liu Tianshi was about 185 cm tall and weighed around 170 pounds, it would be hard for even a strong adult male to move him alone. It was likely the killer had an accomplice or used some kind of tool.
Meng Jin stood up, scanning the room, looking for Dr. Jin’s phone.
They had an unspoken understanding. Dr. Jin would always take photos or videos of every detail on the body, and Meng Jin would simply retrieve the necessary ones from her phone without needing to ask.
After glancing through the photos, Meng Jin sent the important ones to his own phone via WeChat.
At that moment, Zhao walked in, head down, holding his phone. His eyes avoided Meng Jin’s, and he looked like a schoolboy about to be scolded.
He walked up to Meng Jin, bowed deeply, and said with a guilty expression, “Captain, please fire me.”
Meng Jin blinked in confusion, then quickly remembered the threat he’d made to Tang Xiaoguo earlier in the day. He had a bad feeling.
Zhao handed his phone to Meng Jin. Glancing down, Meng Jin saw the headline in bold letters: Fangzheng Group Chairman Liu Tianshi Stabbed to Death, Body Found in Park.
