National Forensic Doctor
Chapter 318 - 318 286 The Slaughterhouse Boss

318: Chapter 286: The Slaughterhouse Boss 318: Chapter 286: The Slaughterhouse Boss Liu Jinghui was not the kind of police officer who liked to deploy mass manpower tactics.

However, one way or another, he had ended up using about one hundred and fifty personnel from the Changyang City Criminal Police Detachment.

Liu Jinghui made a special call to Yu Wenshu to explain the situation, indicating that he was not wasting resources.

Yu Wenshu didn’t care at all, and even took on the responsibility by saying, “Investigating homicide cases?

Using over a hundred people is nothing, hahaha.

As long as the case is solved, if you use a thousand people, I’ll find a way to gather them for you.

Use them with peace of mind.

If I frown, I’ll punish myself with three drinks the next time we eat.”

Liu Jinghui chuckled in amusement, chatted a bit more, and then hung up the phone.

Yu Wenshu’s words were very clear: it’s okay to use people, but the case must be solved.

If the case can be solved, then using even more people is not a problem.

But what if the case isn’t solved?

This was partly why Liu Jinghui didn’t like to use mass manpower tactics.

The responsibility was too great.

When so many people had put in so much effort, talk of romance and joy could no longer continue.

The issue was that Liu Jinghui’s deductions were not always successful, especially when cooperation on all fronts was not perfect.

His insightful deductions often were not verified quickly enough and would just quietly slip by.

Although Liu Jinghui had worked on several major cases, these kinds of cases often had a core commander, and he usually could only play an advisory role.

Most senior officers from the provincial department were the same.

Although they could offer many suggestions when they were on the ground, whether those suggestions were followed and exactly how they were implemented were still up to the local criminal police.

As a cadre from the provincial department, he might sound senior and be respected, but he had no control over personnel or finances.

He often encountered obstacles when he simply wanted to get things done.

Most of the time, local leaders would say nice things, but once the case progressed to a point they didn’t like or the resources used exceeded their psychological tolerance, all previous promises could be disregarded.

But this time, Yu Wenshu had truly delegated authority.

It’s just that the authority was not really given to Liu Jinghui.

Liu Jinghui couldn’t help but look at Jiang Yuan.

This guy had actually managed to win over the commander of the Changyang City Criminal Police Detachment with the way he handled cases.

Considering the cases Jiang Yuan had worked on, which didn’t need to wait for follow-up and were typically solid as iron, it made sense.

For most homicide cases, he didn’t even need confessions from suspects; he could close cases without a single one.

Such a Jiang Yuan naturally found it easy to gain the approval of the criminal police team leaders.

In contrast, Liu Jinghui’s deductions often seemed somewhat ethereal, especially in situations where they couldn’t be substantiated, and he might even be asked by the prosecutor’s office to supplement the investigation.

“There’s nothing else for today.

Jiang Yuan, you go and rest up, see if there’s any good news tomorrow,” Liu Jinghui said enviously but also took care of Jiang Yuan.

Working on pending homicide cases involved endless tasks and even more paperwork to fill out.

However, Liu Jinghui didn’t require Jiang Yuan to do any of it.

Jiang Yuan glanced at the various documents in front of Liu Jinghui and, showing good emotional intelligence, said, “We’ve been on the road all afternoon; I can help you write some reports.”

“This…” Liu Jinghui worried that Jiang Yuan might not know how to write and hesitated.

Jiang Yuan sat down next to him, took a report, looked it over for a moment, and then began to write swiftly.

After finishing, he handed it to Liu Jinghui and picked up another.

Liu Jinghui read it through, a bit surprised.

Unexpectedly good.

With intrigue, Liu Jinghui looked at Jiang Yuan, “Have you actually practiced this?”

“Um… I dabbled a bit during my studies.” What could Jiang Yuan say?

Could he admit he’d picked up a Public Document Writing skill at level four?

Could he admit his public document writing skills would outperform eight of Liu’s?

Jiang Yuan couldn’t say that, and Liu Jinghui kept looking it over again and again.

He thought it was very well written, so much so that he tried to find faults but couldn’t find any.

Official documents are mundane matters, especially the ordinary ones, which are just a bunch of unadorned stuff following existing templates.

However, official documents can indeed become decisions, form resolutions, and turn into evidence.

If you think these things don’t require care, then you are too young.

The so-called greatness in the ordinary; this kind of thing that truly reflects the power of words is not easily written well unless by seasoned civil servants who have been worn down by experience.

Grassroots police officers generally write quite crudely.

Those who write well are usually a bit higher up in the city bureaus or the provincial department, and this is seen as an essential skill in both places.

Officers like Wang Chuanxing and Tang Jia, who have high educational backgrounds, are willing to learn, and have the opportunity to learn, are good at handling official documents.

As for someone like Jiang Yuan, it wasn’t that Liu Jinghui looked down on him—if Jiang Yuan had done well in school, he wouldn’t have ended up in the county bureau—wait, that’s not right, this guy was from Jiang Village, so he had returned home.

Liu Jinghui gasped and asked Jiang Yuan, “This ‘bit of dabbling’ of yours, to what extent have you dabbled exactly?”

Jiang Yuan didn’t hold back.

After giving it some thought, he said, “About the same level as my crime scene investigation skills.”

His Crime Scene Investigation skill was at level four.

Now doing it more often, he could even improve slightly.

He had never practiced public document writing, but having acquired it at level four, it was essentially on the same level.

Liu Jinghui, taking a deep breath, grabbed a bunch of reports and threw them to Jiang Yuan, “Give it a try.”

Jiang Yuan smiled, “I don’t know how to write everything.

Some reports, I just can’t write.”

Jiang Yuan, picking and choosing, took one of the six reports and then thought better of it and left another one, saying, “I’ll start with these two and let you know if there are any problems.”

“Okay,” Liu Jinghui noticed and felt a bit relieved.

At least it wasn’t true that Jiang Yuan was dabbling in everything…

Liu Jinghui then thought: Could this be some advanced application in official document writing, deferring tasks in person?

And one that doesn’t provide standards?

Without standards, one can apply flexibility.

Flexibility implies power…

The power of grassroots civil servants flows from the tips of their pens.

Liu Jinghui couldn’t help but think that since Jiang Yuan was so good at writing official documents and took the initiative to do so, it was as if he was applying for power and had gained it, and now it seemed he had also found a good excuse to shift responsibility…

…

Jiang Yuan went back to rest soon after.

He was helping Liu Jinghui with paperwork, mainly because he had a lot of work, but also because from time to time, he wanted to use his own skills while finding out about the internal and external situation of the special case team.

Once satisfied, Jiang Yuan lost interest.

He still preferred to spend time on the cases.

A night’s deep sleep.

Upon waking, Jiang Yuan stayed in a daze at the guesthouse for a while.

The hotels he had stayed in recently seemed to be somewhat lacking in amenities.

If the victims were various chairpersons or the like, his living conditions would probably be a lot better.

Breakfast was Dawan Village’s special tofu pudding, a big bowl with garnishing water, served with steamed buns and side dishes, all you-can-eat but with only a few options.

The taste was alright, the kind you could eat but wasn’t particularly tasty.

Liu Jinghui had moved the main base of operations to the local police station.

The police station’s workload was actually quite heavy, especially for those in large towns and villages.

Dozens of people were busy flying around every day, and now half a corridor was taken up; it would be impossible for them not to be annoyed.

But Liu Jinghui couldn’t worry about that anymore.

There was a lot of news coming back from the officers on assignment, which meant that they would likely enter the process of making arrests and conducting interrogations soon.

At that point, they had to have the basic setup ready; otherwise, the evidence chain would be called into question.

The police station cooperated in a somewhat awkward manner.

Coming close to noon, important news was relayed back.

“We’ve found the owner of the slaughterhouse.

According to our colleagues up front, this fellow seems to know something.

They’re persuading him to come back now, catching an afternoon flight,” Liu Jinghui said from the small office provided by the police station, suppressing his excitement.

A breakthrough had been achieved in the 11-year-old cold case.

If the owner of the slaughterhouse really had an issue, the case would be essentially solved.

Even if the killer couldn’t be captured immediately, for a homicide cold case, reaching the pursuit phase was already perfect.

“No resistance?” Jiang Yuan asked.

“Some verbal opposition.

He should be considering it right now.

Once he’s in the interrogation room, we’ll ask him properly.” If a suspect wavered, questioning, or interrogating them outside carried significant risks.

Normally, they would be brought back before being questioned.

In the domestic interrogation system, a normal person wouldn’t resist too fiercely once in the interrogation room.

As long as the interrogators could explain the pros and cons to him and make him understand that the judicial system in China is different from that in the United States, and that a lawyer couldn’t come in to speak for him, most people with less serious issues would confess.

Those who don’t confess only excite the interrogators because this situation often indicates very serious issues; one careless move could lead to a homicide case.

Those who genuinely enjoy talking about interrogation techniques and like to add weight in an interrogation were from the old pre-trial model.

Especially when digging up old cases was considered an achievement, the interrogation model would change.

There is no more pre-trial now.

If the slaughterhouse owner hadn’t killed anyone, he would probably have it figured out after one flight.

However, during the transfer process, the escort personnel are very unlikely to impose pressure on the suspect.

Not only can they not apply pressure, but they must also continually reassure the suspect, telling them, it’s okay, there’s no problem, everything will be fine once you explain…

A little-known fact: the moment a police officer’s smile is richest is not at their wedding but when escorting a suspect.

Evening.

The owner of the slaughterhouse was brought directly to the Changyang City Bureau’s case handling center.

When he was ushered into the interrogation chair and handcuffed, especially when the restraint belt was put on, this somewhat plump owner visibly panicked.

“Isn’t it just questioning?

Why do I need to be handcuffed, and this thing…” The owner began to twist around, and the chains clinked loudly.

“Restraint belt.

Just think of it as a seat belt,” Liu Jinghui answered, then observed the owner’s expression and cut straight to the chase, asking, “Do you know why we’re looking for you?”

“To collect a debt?” the slaughterhouse owner tentatively replied.

“We’re the police,” emphasized Liu Jinghui, adding, “Do you remember the cold case from 11 years ago?”

“Which police are you from?” the slaughterhouse owner countered.

“I’m Liu Jinghui from the Provincial Office,” Liu Jinghui showed his credentials.

The slaughterhouse owner examined them carefully, paused for a few seconds, and then said, “I remember, the taxi driver died.

You don’t think I killed him, do you?”

“Explain clearly, and you won’t,” Liu Jinghui said.

“Uh…

okay.

I can talk about it,” the slaughterhouse owner sighed.