022 Searching for Someone by Car

After everyone split up to carry out their tasks, Li Hui patted Han Bin on the shoulder. “Bin, I’ve made up my mind.”

“About what?”

“I’m going to rent an apartment in Huayuan Community,” Li Hui said.

“Great, then I can hitch a ride with you to work,” Han Bin replied.

“Just so we’re clear, we’ll be carpooling—you’ll pay half the gas money,” Li Hui said.

“Stingy,” Han Bin snorted.

“I can’t compare with you; I still need to save up to buy a house,” Li Hui said.

“So that’s your plan, becoming my neighbor just to save on gas?” Han Bin teased.

“Not exactly.” Li Hui scratched his head, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I just thought, maybe I could drop by your place for a meal now and then, and listen to the wisdom of Chief Han.”

“You’ll get an earful, that’s for sure.” Han Bin chuckled.

When Han Weidong was young, he too worked as a detective. He solved cases, earned commendations, and was eventually promoted to station chief. According to him, had he stayed at the station all his life, he’d probably still be a beat cop. Han Weidong took great pride in his detective days; every time he drank, he’d reminisce about those years. Han Bin had heard those stories so often he could recite them from memory.

...

The two walked out of the courtyard; outside the police cordon, a crowd had gathered. Some were neighbors, others just passersby drawn by curiosity.

Li Hui scanned the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, uncles and aunties, I’m Detective Li Hui. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Officer, is Xing Jianbin dead?” asked a short, stout man.

“Yes,” Li Hui replied, then asked, “Do you know him?”

“We’re neighbors—I live right next door,” the stout man said.

Li Hui nodded and continued, “Between eight and twelve last night, did anyone see any suspicious people or vehicles near Xing Jianbin’s house?”

“No, I didn’t see anything.”

“I don’t go out at night.”

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

...

The onlookers spoke up.

Han Bin watched the crowd closely. He noticed that after Li Hui’s question, the stout man’s eyes widened, his eyelids and brows lifted slightly—a classic sign of surprise.

He hadn’t been surprised at the news of Xing Jianbin’s death; rather, he was startled by the inquiry about suspicious vehicles and people.

Han Bin sensed something amiss.

“Sir, may I ask your name?”

“Xing Ziqiang,” the stout man replied.

“How was your relationship with Xing Jianbin?” Han Bin asked.

“Pretty good,” Xing Ziqiang said, instinctively touching his nose.

Touching the nose is a common sign of lying.

First surprise, then a lie—Han Bin felt this man, Xing Ziqiang, was hiding something.

“Xing Ziqiang, come with me. I have some questions,” Han Bin said.

“Officer, what do you want with me?” Xing Ziqiang took a step back.

“Come on,” Han Bin said firmly, leaving no room for refusal.

Xing Ziqiang hesitated, but eventually followed Han Bin into Xing Jianbin’s yard.

Li Hui came along, asking, “Bin, what’s going on?”

“This guy’s suspicious,” Han Bin said.

“Officer, you shouldn’t wrong an innocent man. I wouldn’t even hurt a chicken, what could I have done?” Xing Ziqiang protested.

“Where were you between eight and twelve last night?” Han Bin asked.

“I went out to drink with friends around seven. They can vouch for me,” Xing Ziqiang said.

“What time did you come home?” Han Bin pressed.

“I... I...”

“Speak!”

“Eleven, around eleven,” Xing Ziqiang replied.

Li Hui laughed. “So you don’t have an alibi.”

“Li Hui, go ask Li Yu about Xing Ziqiang’s relationship with Xing Jianbin,” Han Bin said.

“No, no, I admit it—I lied,” Xing Ziqiang waved his hands.

“Why did you lie?” Han Bin asked.

“My relationship with Xing Jianbin wasn’t good. He used to run pyramid schemes and cheated me out of a lot of money. I lost tens of thousands. I wished he’d die sooner,” Xing Ziqiang said.

“If the relationship was bad, so be it. Why lie about it?” Han Bin asked.

“I was afraid you’d suspect me,” Xing Ziqiang replied.

“When Detective Li questioned you, why were you so surprised?” Han Bin asked.

“Last night, when I came home, I saw a car parked by Xing Jianbin’s house. That’s why I was startled,” Xing Ziqiang said.

“If you saw it, why didn’t you say so when I asked?” Li Hui said, annoyed.

“I didn’t want trouble. Xing Jianbin got what he deserved; I didn’t want to help,” Xing Ziqiang said.

“People like you let criminals walk free. If they could kill Xing Jianbin today, they could kill you tomorrow,” Li Hui said, pointing at Xing Ziqiang’s nose.

“I realize I was wrong. I’ll cooperate with the police in the future,” Xing Ziqiang said, his chubby face crumpling.

“What was the license plate number?” Han Bin asked.

“I was drunk last night. I only glanced at it—I can’t remember,” Xing Ziqiang said.

“What kind of car?”

“It seemed like a van.”

“Are you sure?”

After thinking for a moment, Xing Ziqiang said, “Yes, it was a van.”

“What color?”

“Silver-gray.”

“Any other distinguishing features?”

“The van’s rear window had an advertisement stuck on it,” Xing Ziqiang said.

“What did it say?”

“I can’t recall,” Xing Ziqiang replied.

“You’ll come with us to the station to make a statement,” Li Hui said.

“Yes, yes,” Xing Ziqiang said hastily.

...

“Captain Zheng, Captain Zeng, we’ve found a new lead here,” Han Bin said.

“What is it?” Zheng Kaixuan asked.

“The victim’s neighbor, Xing Ziqiang, came home from drinking last night and saw a silver-gray van parked near Xing Jianbin’s house. The rear window had an advertisement,” Han Bin said.

“What time did he see it?”

“Around eleven o’clock,” Han Bin replied.

“Good, that’s an important lead. Once Zhao Ming retrieves the nearby surveillance footage, we can conduct a targeted investigation. We might find traces of the suspect,” Zheng Kaixuan said.

...

Back at the precinct.

Zhao Ming, Han Bin, and Li Hui went straight to the monitoring room and began searching for the van.

Zhao Ming was responsible for checking footage from nearby shops and residents’ home cameras.

Han Bin and Li Hui focused on footage from the traffic police monitoring center at intersections near the crime scene.

When people think of detectives, they imagine excitement and danger, but in truth, most detective work is grueling and tedious.

Reviewing surveillance footage is a prime example of tedious work.

Han Bin had to keep his eyes glued to the screen, unable to miss a single vehicle or detail.

It was dark at night, and the footage was unclear, requiring careful attention. Any distraction could mean missing the key to solving the case.

“I found something over here,” Zhao Ming called out.

Han Bin went over. “Did you find a suspicious vehicle?”

“Bin, take a look—is this the van the witness saw?” Zhao Ming asked.

Han Bin stared at the footage. The lighting was dim, but he could just make out a silver-gray vehicle. The video played on, capturing the rear window of the van, where some lettering was faintly visible.

“Where did the vehicle go?” Han Bin asked.

“It left in the direction away from Xing Jianbin’s house, down a small road—probably to avoid the main road’s cameras,” Zhao Ming said.

Han Bin glanced at the timestamp: eleven-thirty.

“That matches perfectly!”