Chapter 385: A Close Examination of the Secret Room
Chapter 385: A Close Examination of the Secret Room
The police investigation began—or rather, Feng Bu Jue’s examination.
After exchanging a few words with Scofield, Feng Bu Jue learned that only four officers had arrived at this mountain villa to investigate the murder case. Besides Scofield and his two subordinates who had entered the house, one officer remained outside to guard the vehicle.
This wasn’t surprising. Police stations in remote areas typically had very limited resources. Sending two patrol cars and four officers already demonstrated their seriousness about the case.
“It’s getting late, Detective. Have you considered sending someone to transport the corpse back to town for examination first?” Feng Bu Jue asked as he knelt on one knee beside Dennis’s body, leaning close to the victim’s neck to inspect the wound.
By now, the others had left the corridor outside, leaving one officer on guard at the door while another began taking preliminary notes.
“We only have a clinic in town, and I doubt their doctors could handle this,” Scofield replied. “Murders like this are rare in our town. For an autopsy, we’d have to send the corpse to Ogway City, half a day’s drive from here. Their police station has a forensic expert.”
“Fine,” Feng Bu Jue interrupted, standing up and moving behind the sofa chair. He gently lifted Dennis’s head, adjusting its position slightly. After observing for several seconds, he stated, “He was strangled. The wound is narrow and crosses at the back of the neck. The murder weapon was likely a wire or fishing line.”
“Hmm…” Scofield, standing beside Feng Bu Jue, also saw the injury on Dennis’s neck.
Feng Bu Jue continued, “Besides the incision from the line, there are numerous irregular wounds on the front of his neck.” He raised the corpse’s hand, using a toothpick to extract a strand of flesh from under one fingernail. “Clearly, he scratched these himself with his fingers.”
Scofield pondered, “So, these were caused when he tried to pry the line away while being strangled from behind?”
“A futile struggle,” Feng Bu Jue said coldly. “Even if the murder weapon were a thick rope, the victim would struggle to wedge their fingers between it and their skin once the killer tightened their grip. With something this thin, it’d be impossible. If the killer had enough strength, they might even sever the head entirely.”
As Feng Bu Jue spoke in his detached tone, his expression cold and focused, even Scofield—a detective accustomed to gruesome scenes—felt a chill.
“There are marks on the carpet in front of the sofa chair where the victim’s toes pushed forward, creating several visible folds,” Feng Bu Jue noted, lowering his gaze. “Combined with the scuff marks on the carpet… I’d preliminarily conclude he was strangled to death while sitting here, and the killer didn’t move the body afterward.”
At this point, Feng Bu Jue suddenly spotted something. He crouched, slightly moving the corpse’s legs aside, and retrieved a cigarette butt from the sofa cushion.
Immediately, he glanced at the ashtray on the nearby small table, which contained several cigarette butts. Comparing the two and sniffing them confirmed they were the same brand. He murmured, “So the victim was smoking when attacked…”
“Then… the killer must have hidden somewhere in this room beforehand, approached from behind, and struck suddenly?” Scofield speculated.
Feng Bu Jue shook his head. “The only potential hiding spots in this room are under the bed, the wardrobe, or the adjacent bathroom.” He walked to the bathroom, gently pushing the wooden door, which creaked loudly at the hinges. “These wooden doors and furniture almost always make noise. If the killer hid in the bathroom or wardrobe, they’d have been heard coming out.” He moved to the bed. “As for under the bed, it’s difficult for an adult to hide there unnoticed. Plus, the victim was facing the bed—anyone emerging would’ve been seen.”
“So… the victim must’ve known the killer was in the room with him before his death,” Scofield mused after a few seconds. “But he was unguarded.”
Feng Bu Jue shrugged. “The killer was someone Dennis knew. When the killer moved into Dennis’s blind spot and retrieved the weapon, Dennis was still smoking casually.”
“So the killer is definitely among those staying at this villa…” Scofield muttered thoughtfully.
“Oh? You sound like you already have a suspect?” Feng Bu Jue asked.
“Er… just some preliminary thoughts,” Scofield replied.
“Feel free to share, Detective,” Feng Bu Jue encouraged, stepping toward the open front door.
Scofield hesitated, glancing toward the entrance before lowering his voice. “I suspect… Lord Kolston.”
“Oh? What makes you think so?” Feng Bu Jue pressed.
“You didn’t think the old man seemed too calm?” Scofield asked. “His demeanor doesn’t match how a grieving father should react after losing a son.”
“That’s normal,” Feng Bu Jue countered. “Before you arrived—when he first learned of his son’s death—he was indeed agitated. He just calmed down faster than most people. Because he’s no ordinary old man.” He paused. “Kolston displays at least four clear signs of military experience. Dennis mentioned this to me as well. Kolston has probably seen more corpses than you or I have seen living people. His will is strong, and his mind is sharp—this man doesn’t break easily.”
As he spoke, Feng Bu Jue approached the window. “Also… you saw it yourself. Kolston needs a cane to walk, yet the killer would’ve needed both hands to use the murder weapon. Oh!” His eyes lit up as he noticed something on the window frame, though he continued speaking, “Besides, if he were in the room with his son, Dennis wouldn’t have turned his back to smoke and chat—it’d be disrespectful.”
“Did you find something?” Scofield noticed Feng Bu Jue’s movements and quickly joined him.
“Just figured out how the killer escaped the Secret Room,” Feng Bu Jue replied casually, pointing at the window frame. “Not a tough puzzle.”
Scofield followed his finger, spotting a faint, neatly edged bloodstain. “What does that mean?”
“It proves the killer used the murder weapon itself to create this Secret Room,” Feng Bu Jue explained, opening the window to examine the exterior camera. “The villa’s foundation is thick—this windowsill is roughly 1.7 meters above the grass outside.” As he spoke, he climbed out the first-floor window.
“Hmm… other than Kolston and Oliver, everyone else is a suspect,” Feng Bu Jue muttered, landing on the lawn and beginning to scrutinize footprints.
(End of Chapter)
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