Chapter 7
1084 Words
Nightshade stood by with her arms crossed, watching as Cheng Cheng and Zhou Dingtian struggled together to pry open the door lock.
“Did you get a search warrant? Be careful—they might sue you for trespassing.”
“It’s an emergency,” Cheng Cheng replied, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “They don’t own the seventh floor. Perhaps Qi Dabao has some special arrangement with the real estate boss. No one else knows about it.”
“Why are you so fixated on the seventh floor? Even if you prove someone lives here, what does it change?”
“Because the crime scene isn’t 603 at all.”
The lock finally gave way. Inside, they saw a fully furnished apartment, complete with sofas, a television, and every modern amenity.
“Holy crap! It’s identical to 601!”
Using the same method, they broke into 703 next door. This one was bare—a plain, unfinished space.
Zhou Dingtian wasn’t the only one astonished. Almost everyone, except Cheng Cheng, stared wide-eyed. Nightshade crouched and ran a hand along the floor. It was spotless—no dust, indicating the place had been maintained recently.
“Captain Cheng, what’s going on here?”
Without answering, Cheng Cheng strode towards the terrace door. “Bring Qi Dabao here. Want answers? Ask him yourself.”
Minutes ticked by as everyone took their assigned positions under Cheng Cheng’s directives. Nightshade waited at the sixth-floor doorway, observing Cheng Cheng’s expression—it was uncharacteristically stern, though tinged with quiet confidence.
The elevator dinged, and out walked Chen Tiao, hands cuffed, with a jacket draped awkwardly over them. He smirked. “What’s this? Caught the murderer already?”
Nightshade shot him an icy glare, shoving him unceremoniously into his own 603 apartment. “Stay put. No talking.” The door slammed shut, and almost instantly, her walkie-talkie buzzed.
“Qi Dabao is on his way upstairs. Over.” Zhou Dingtian’s voice crackled through. Nightshade hesitated but ultimately followed Cheng Cheng’s instructions, stepping out. This young captain intrigued her—she wanted to see his next move.
“What now? Haven’t you already caught the killer?” Qi Dabao grumbled as he entered, surrounded by officers. Zhou Dingtian shrugged.
“Our captain found a clue in your house. Figured it’s best you see it for yourself.”
Qi Dabao cast him a suspicious glance but complied, heading towards the elevator. Zhou Dingtian pressed the “up” button, but the elevator stubbornly remained on the seventh floor.
“Looks like it’s stuck. Your unit’s on the sixth floor, right? Stairs won’t be a problem?”
With a snort, Qi Dabao strode towards the stairwell. Zhou Dingtian signaled his team, who promptly followed in step.
At the top, Cheng Cheng waited with arms crossed. “Impressive, Mr. Qi. Not even out of breath after climbing six floors.”
“Clearly, you’ve been keeping fit,” he added, clapping mockingly.
“Cut the nonsense, Officer Cheng. What are you trying to say?” Qi Dabao snapped, glancing at the stoic faces of the officers around him.
Cheng Cheng ignored the outburst, pushing the door open. “Come in. Let’s talk inside.”
Qi Dabao stepped into the threshold and froze.
“What’s the matter? Something seem... off?” Cheng Cheng asked, circling to stand before him. “Perhaps you’ve realized—you’re not on the sixth floor. This is the seventh floor, Unit 701, an identical layout to your apartment.”
“Forget conjectures; let’s re-enact the crime for clarity.” Cheng Cheng gestured toward the broken door. “Mr. Qi, care to explain why the sixth and seventh floors are decorated exactly alike?”
“Hah, what’s there to explain? The real estate boss is a friend of mine. He gifted me two apartments. Couldn’t transfer ownership due to purchase restrictions, so I made them look identical. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing—unless it involves murder.” Cheng Cheng yanked the curtains aside, his voice sharp. “And that’s where we step in.”
“You’re spouting nonsense!” Qi Dabao’s face paled, sweat beading despite the chilly air. “You’re framing me! I’ll sue you for coercion!”
“Your ‘lawyer’ claimed he saw Fang Meizhen’s body on the 603 terrace.”
“Wrong!” Cheng Cheng cut him off. “Fang Meizhen wasn’t killed in 603—she died in 703.”
Qi Dabao faltered, his legs trembling. Cheng Cheng walked to the terrace door, throwing it open. “Shall I help you piece it together?”
“You invited the divorce lawyer that day, then tampered with the elevator, creating a staged malfunction with help from an accomplice. Forced to take the stairs, the lawyer relied on your misleading directions.”
“You sealed off the fifth and sixth floors’ fire doors, obscuring the floor numbers. At the sixth floor, you pretended to verify the level, misleading the lawyer to believe he’d arrived. Meanwhile, you swapped the number plates.”
Qi Dabao sneered. “You’ve got quite the imagination, Officer. But where’s your proof? Anyone can spin a tale!”
Cheng Cheng smiled coldly. “Proof? Plenty. Start with your front door—a relic left from when the property was first handed over. Strange, given your wealth and your daughter’s meticulously renovated home.”
Donning gloves, Cheng Cheng pried the seventh-floor plaque loose. “Notice the wear and tear? You’ve been playing a shell game, swapping signs between floors.”
Qi Dabao sputtered, his bravado fading under Cheng Cheng’s relentless deductions.
“It gets better. Your lawyer owns a golden retriever. We found golden fur on your seventh-floor sofa. Care to guess what the lab report will say?”
“You...”
“Mr. Qi, you staged the seventh floor to mimic the sixth. Stripped of personal effects, no signs of habitation. But you overlooked one detail: the lawyer didn’t just see Fang Meizhen’s body. He left traces—dog hair, among other things.”
Qi Dabao’s legs buckled. Cheng Cheng advanced, pulling open the wardrobe doors to reveal Nightshade leaning casually on the railing.
“I’m Fang Meizhen’s body,” she said dryly.
Cheng Cheng stifled a cough, averting his gaze. “You brought the lawyer to the seventh-floor terrace, making him witness the body. Then you sent him for backup keys while you moved the body to 603 and reset the staging.”
“Isn’t that right, Mr. Qi?”
- Writer
