Captain Liao continued to introduce the young policeman beside him, "This is Bai Yidao, the son of our department chief, Director Bai…"
Bai Yidao frowned and said, "Old Liao, if you're going to introduce me, just do it. Why drag my dad into this? Do you think I'm some useless second-generation rich kid to you?"
Liao chuckled, "No, no, it just slipped out."
Bai Yidao sized me up from head to toe and smiled, "A special consultant personally sent by the Director. You're quite young, huh? Nice to meet you." He then extended his hand.
I instinctively reached out to shake, but suddenly Bai Yidao squeezed my hand hard—so hard I thought he might crush the bones. I struggled to pull away, my face probably showing the pain.
Rovivi, the forensic doctor, snickered at the scene. Captain Liao frowned and quickly intervened, "Yidao, you can't joke like that!"
Bai Yidao grinned without any apology, "Just testing Consultant Song's grip strength, no offense meant."
I was inwardly fuming, silently thinking, You little punk, just wait!
...
...
Captain Liao gestured toward the round table. "Please, have a seat. Since everyone's here, I'll give you a briefing on the case. Coffee will be brought around shortly."
We sat down, but the other officers seemed dismissive, especially Bai Yidao, who whispered with Rovivi and occasionally glanced at us with a mocking look.
"Damn, they really look down on us," Huang Xiaotao whispered to me. "Song Yang, is your hand okay?"
"No problem, not that delicate," I replied, though I was still rubbing my sore palm under the table.
Wang Dali glanced at Rovivi with disdain, "Hmph, looks down on people, pretty face aside, she's nowhere near as approachable as Xiaotao."
Xiaotao snapped back, "Don't compare me to that woman!"
"Right, right, not even worthy to be Xiaotao's shoe cleaner," Wang Dali nodded eagerly.
Captain Liao pulled the curtains, switched on the projector, and began the case summary. The equipment at Wuqü City Criminal Police Division was impressive—no wonder Director Cheng was promoted from here. This was like his "home base," which explained the preferential treatment.
The victims were a family of three: a husband, wife, and the husband's mother. The husband was a wholesale supplier, known for being filial to his elderly mother, who was 80 years old and wheelchair-bound due to leg problems. The couple had a harmonious relationship—no fights, no quarrels—and their 12-year-old daughter was away at school, luckily spared from the tragedy.
They lived in an old house. Three nights ago, neighbors heard a violent quarrel, followed by sounds of things breaking.
The neighbor—an elderly lady who played mahjong with the mother—went over to intervene but no one answered the door. Suddenly, she saw the old woman fall from the second-floor window in her wheelchair, dying instantly, covered in broken glass with a pair of red chopsticks stuck in her eye sockets.
Realizing the severity, security was called to break down the door. Inside, blood was everywhere—"it looked like someone painted the entire house with blood," said the neighbor.
The wife was found on the floor, mutilated beyond recognition, her face partially peeled off and hanging by skin from her neck. Nearby lay a cleaver.
The husband's death was even more gruesome—beheaded, his head resting in the washbasin with wide, staring eyes, blood filling the sink...
Just like the case from three months ago, the crime scene was a sealed room, impossible for an outsider to break in. Police preliminarily concluded that the couple suddenly went insane: the wife stabbed the chopsticks into the mother's eyes and pushed her from the window, then the two fought with knives. Believing his wife was dead, the husband went to the kitchen to clean his wounds, only to be ambushed from behind by the wife, who chopped off his head before collapsing and dying from blood loss herself.
The special task force questioned the security and neighbors thoroughly but found no suspicious clues.
The forensic team tested the food the family ate that night but found no suspicious substances.
The case was at a standstill.
After the briefing, I asked, "How was the order of death determined?"
Rovivi crossed her legs arrogantly, "That was my call. Isn't it obvious? The husband was devoted to his mother, so he wouldn't have stabbed chopsticks into her eyes. The chopsticks had the wife's fingerprints. And he wouldn't kill his wife then chop off his own head. If you don't know this, why be a consultant?" She sneered.
Captain Liao asked, "Consultant Song, any thoughts?"
"Call me Song Yang," I said. "I think you've misinterpreted the sequence of events and need to reconsider the case."
"How dare you!" Rovivi slammed the table. "I've been a forensic doctor for five or six years; I wouldn't make such a rookie mistake. Let's see if Consultant Song can make the dead speak."
"I will," I replied confidently, while the others looked on with amusement and doubt.
Just like animals, people have territorial instincts. From the moment I entered the room, I sensed these officers resented us 'outsiders.'
I then asked, "Have the bodies been autopsied?"
"No," Rovivi replied lazily. "We were about to start when Director Cheng called and told me to hold off for your special consultant."
Huang Xiaotao asked, "Does the daughter know about this?"
Captain Liao shook his head. "Friends and relatives are hiding it from her. She's still at school, completely unaware. Poor girl, losing her whole family at once."
He sighed deeply—a man with children himself, clearly sympathizing.
Xiaotao asked again, "Have you looked into the victims' social ties? Any enemies?"
"Checked. Nothing noteworthy. I'll give you detailed statements later," Liao said.
We had no further questions. Liao ended the meeting and declared the special team would investigate independently, with full cooperation from others. "From now on, I'm stepping down as team leader. Huang Xiaotao will take full charge."
"Supervisor Huang?" Wang Dali was surprised. "I thought you were a police inspector?"
Xiaotao proudly puffed her chest, "After cracking two major cases, I got promoted to Grade 3 Supervisor. The official paperwork should be finalized soon." She then smiled at me, "Consultant Song, pray for me to get even higher!"
I smiled back, "Keep burning incense and making offerings. Sincerity works."
"No problem. Lunch is on me at the best roast duck place in Wuqü City!" Xiaotao declared.
Though the promotion was only one rank—from Grade 1 Inspector to Grade 3 Supervisor—it sounded much more impressive. My grandfather had risen from an ordinary detective captain to bureau chief in just a few years. So, it wasn't impossible.
Suddenly, I had a bold idea: why not start a 'Police Supervisor Training Plan' and help Xiaotao climb higher? Then, having tea and meals with a police supervisor would be a great status symbol!