Chapter 388: The Secret Room Enigma
Chapter 388: The Secret Room Enigma
"Killing someone isn't like running a marathon or riding a bike—there's no such thing as conserving physical stamina", Feng Bu Jue explained. "Unless the killer is a seasoned, battle-hardened Class assassin who knows precisely how to intervene with restraint and anticipate every reaction from the target… otherwise, a murderer will always go all-out, choking with maximum force until the victim can no longer resist. Therefore, the killer's hands would inevitably show cuts or bruises. Look here", he gestured to his palm, "the injuries should be around the palm's edge, just below the pinky's base. Even if steel wire was wrapped around the hand to distribute pressure, this area would still bear most of the strain."
"This case is practically solved already!" Scofield exclaimed excitedly. "Forget the Secret Room nonsense! Dempsey, round up everyone in this villa and check their hands!"
"Not so fast, Detective", Feng Bu Jue interrupted with a weary sigh. "Remember the premise I mentioned—'unless proper precautions were taken.' A thick pair of gloves would easily prevent such injuries. And if the gloves were long enough, the chances of the killer’s arms being scratched by the victim would plummet."
This icy reality doused the spark of hope in Scofield and Dempsey's eyes.
"Your idea's not wrong though", Feng Bu Jue added. "We still need to inspect everyone, but even clean hands won't prove innocence. Also", he continued, "you've seen how much blood the victim lost—his own hands are smeared with it. If the killer wasn't wearing gloves, their hands would likely be stained too. They'd leave bloody fingerprints everywhere while fleeing. Of course", he shrugged, "while I doubt this, the killer might've washed up in the bathroom before escaping."
"Right", Scofield nodded. "So besides the murder weapon, we're looking for bloodstained gloves now."
"Impossible to find", Feng Bu Jue dropped another bombshell.
"What?" Scofield blinked in disbelief.
"After killing and setting up the Secret Room, the killer was outside the villa, beyond the window. Just a short walk and—poof!—toss the gloves and murder weapon into the valley. Who'd ever retrieve them?"
Scofield gulped, silenced by the detective's knack for dashing clues into dust mere moments after revealing them.
Feng Bu Jue turned toward the door. "Earlier, when inspecting the crime scene, I checked thoroughly. The only bloodstains besides those around the corpse were a faint smear on the windowsill. Which leads me to this conclusion—" He reached the doorway, locked the guest room door, and continued, "After killing, the murderer wiped the murder weapon clean, set the wire aside, then turned gloves inside-out, crumpled them, and placed them nearby. Then they locked the door. Oh, and there's over a seventy percent chance that door was already locked when the murder happened."
He strode back toward the window. "After confirming the door was locked from inside, the killer took the gloves to the window and tied the steel wire to it."
Suddenly, Feng Bu Jue froze at the window, his face tightening. "Uh… Officers, does either of you know how to tie a slip knot?"
His knot-tying ineptitude—revealed again. Not that it mattered much.
"What kind of slip knot?" Dempsey asked, stepping forward.
"Wait… There are multiple types?" Feng Bu Jue's expression turned comically blank as he stumbled into unfamiliar territory.
"Oh yeah", Dempsey scratched his head, pushing his police cap back. "My sailor uncle taught me dozens—double fisherman's knots, fisherman's knots, constrictor knots, sheet bends, figure-eights…"
Feng Bu Jue stared at him like he'd just witnessed a divine revelation—"So you're the legendary master of knots who's transcended even shoe-tying itself."
"Forget the knots", Feng Bu Jue shifted gears. "Just listen, and you'll understand what's needed."
The window was a traditional outward-opening double pane. Each half had a hook-shaped latch. Feng Bu Jue pointed to one latch's handle. "The killer tied one end of the wire here. Then they climbed outside, closed the opposite window, and secured its latch. Keeping this window's latch horizontal, they slowly shut it from the outside."
"Oh, I get it!" Dempsey seized the Violin String from Feng Bu Jue's hand. In seconds, he'd tied it to the latch handle, flipped outside, and began slowly closing the window while holding the wire's other end. Finally, he pulled the wire outward through the gap.
"Perfect!" Feng Bu Jue told Scofield. "See how the wire must be wedged in the bottom window gap? Pulling it causes the latch to rotate downward, securing into place."
Scofield caught on. "Once the latch locks vertically, continued pulling makes the slip knot detach from the handle. Then just reel it out—" He pointed to the windowsill. "Friction here would leave that bloodstain we found."
"Exactly. The killer wiped the murder weapon clean to hide the crime, but eliminating every trace is nearly impossible", Feng Bu Jue said. "After killing, most people panic and flee. Even if this killer planned carefully, their mindset during execution wouldn't differ much from an average person."
Opening the window, Feng Bu Jue helped Dempsey climb back inside. "If they'd prepared a second wire for strategizing, or washed the murder weapon thoroughly in the bathroom afterward… our job would've been even harder."
"No one usually plans that far ahead", Scofield muttered.
Feng Bu Jue chuckled—a sound so chilling it made both officers shiver. "Well then", he stretched lazily, glancing at the door, "let's go talk to our suspects next."
(End of Chapter)
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