"Wait." Writer Wu called Officer Liang, his face dark as the bottom of a pot. "You searched my luggage for such a small matter?"

Officer Liang said calmly, "I have the right to do so."

Writer Wu clenched his teeth, his cheeks bulged out, and after a while, he said, "Don't you just want to know if I went to see her? Yes, I did. I went to see her around ten o'clock."

Officer Liang asked, "What did you do?"

"What can I do? I just talked to her about some private matters." Writer Wu said.

"Did you have an argument?"

Writer Wu hesitated and said, "We had a few arguments, but we finally made an agreement."

"What was the argument about?"

"A little private matter. There's no need to tell you, right? Anyway, when I left, she was still alive and well." Writer Wu said this with full confidence.

And the fact is indeed so. Kang Mucheng has met with Chang Huajia since then, and she is not abnormal.

Could it be that the suspicion still falls on Kang Mucheng, the last person who met her?

Jian Jing couldn't sit still anymore, and decided to return to the scene for further investigation.

A nightgown was hanging on the hanger in the bedroom. This should be one of the two-piece sets. The suspender skirt worn inside was found in the bathroom, and the silk nightgown outside was hung up - wow, she seemed to be dressed like this to chat with Kang Mucheng.

Bare chicken.

There was a mobile phone, a small half cup of water, and a box of tissues on the bedside table, all of which were commonly used things. There was a red wine glass on the dressing table with lip prints on the rim of the glass. The color number had been identified, and it was a male killer that had not been put away on the table.

She tried to replay the scene of last night in her mind: after twelve o'clock, Chang Huajia and Kang Mucheng finished chatting about the publication of Yang Guan's works in the small study, and returned to the room to prepare for bed.

She put hot water, poured in bath salts, and poured half a glass of red wine, and then someone knocked on her door.

At present, the most likely murder weapon is the pillow, so Chang Huajia must have invited someone into the room. She was drunk, and perhaps her mind was a little unclear. They sat on the sofa and chatted for a while, and the other party suddenly picked up the pillow to cover her face... No.

The scene was marked with a red cross.

She checked Chang Huajia's nail crevices, which were very clean, without dandruff or fabric. But no matter how drunk a person is, he will instinctively struggle when his breathing is obstructed, right?

Chang Huajia showed no signs of fighting with anyone, and seemed to have died unconsciously.

Could it be that she was too drunk and unconscious, and someone came into the room with murderous intent and suffocated her to death, and then pretended that she was drowning in the bath, locked the door and left on the balcony?

"So, did you find anything new?" Officer Liang asked.

Jian Jing rubbed her temples and smiled bitterly: "To be honest, the more I think about it, the more confused I get."

Officer Liang crossed his arms: "Do you want to hear my opinion?"

"You tell me."

"I think the painter and Kang Mucheng got along well during the chat, and under the influence of alcohol, they had the idea of ​​further communication." Officer Liang analyzed calmly, "The painter took the initiative to invite him into the room, and then an accident happened, and the painter suffocated to death."

Jian Jing covered her face, not knowing whether to laugh or cry: "Are you talking about sexual asphyxiation?"

"You think you understand Kang Mucheng, but many things are hard to say." Officer Liang is knowledgeable and said

calmly, "He couldn't have expected such an accident?" Jian Jing opened her mouth, speechless: "I can't defend him on this, but if you think so, we can take another look at the body. Corpses won't lie."

After the examination, no traces of male remains were found in the painter's body, and no used umbrella was found in the entire room.

Jian Jing obviously breathed a sigh of relief and said, "If it was on the bed, it would be more convenient to use the pillow. Why would he use the pillow on the sofa?"

Officer Liang shook his head: "Just because the pillow is on the sofa doesn't mean it has always been there."

"There are no signs of sleeping on the bed. The painter's quilt and pillowcases are all silk. It would be very obvious if there had been intense exercise." Jian Jing said, "Also, although the water temperature will cause differences in the time of death, I still tend to believe that the painter died around two or three in the morning."

This reason was very convincing. Officer Liang thought for a moment and asked, "What about Eddie? He said he came to see the painter around ten o'clock, but he didn't say why, and no one can confirm it."

Oda confirmed the time when Writer Wu went to see Painter Chang, but no one could prove Eddie's whereabouts. They didn't see Mr. Tao and Kang Mucheng on the first floor, nor did they meet Xiaotian and Xiaolu who came back at about the same time. Writer Wu never mentioned them either.

They found Eddie and asked again.

Eddie was very sensitive: "Are you suspecting me now?" Without waiting for their answer, he said irritably, "What reason do I have to harm Lisa? She is dead, and I am not good at all."

"We just want to understand the situation." Officer Liang was calm, "Why did you come to the painter last night? Did she have any abnormal behavior?"

Eddie licked his lips and said hoarsely: "Take the money, I'm asking Lisa for money, is there a problem?"

Officer Liang was in high spirits: "Is the painter willing to lend it to you?"

"You didn't understand. I went to her to ask for money." Eddie suddenly calmed down and said, "I owed someone a sum of money. I wanted Lisa to pay it back for me. She was not very happy and refused to give in. So we had some conflicts the past two days. I was thinking of finding another way out."

At this point, he glanced at Jian Jing, clearly implying that she was the so-called "way out."

"Tonight, they came to urge me to pay back the money again. I had no choice but to go to Lisa again." Eddie said, "She agreed to help me pay back part of it. I went back after I achieved my goal. Tell me, what good will it be for me if she dies? Who will help me pay back the money?"

Officer Liang frowned, judging the truth of Eddie's words in his heart.

Jian Jing asked, "Does the painter usually drink before going to bed?"

"Yes, Lisa has trouble sleeping. Not only does she drink, but sometimes she also needs to take medicine to fall asleep."

"Does she have the habit of locking the door?"

"If she is ready to go to bed, she will lock the door." Eddie emphasized, "I said, Lisa has a bad sleep, she doesn't like others to disturb her rest."

Jian Jing seemed to understand something: "So your room is in the next building?"

"Obviously."

She frowned, feeling more and more confused: the water and bath salts in the bathtub, the red wine on the bedside table, undoubtedly showed that the painter was getting ready for bed - this private habit was difficult to fake - at this time, whose arrival would make her open the door and invite the other person in?

Kang Mucheng? If he wanted to have a romantic encounter with a beautiful woman, why didn't he just accept it before? There was no need to go back to the room to work for a while before going to see her. Jian Jing didn't think he would do that either.

But if it wasn't Eddie, who could it be?

At eight o'clock in the evening, Jian Jing and Officer Liang reviewed all the confessions and finally concluded that writer Wu was lying.

According to the timeline, writer Wu claimed that he and painter Chang had reached an agreement on something, but later in the conversation between Kang Mucheng and painter Chang, the painter said that it didn't matter whether they were enemies or not.

The manuscripts packed in the study proved this point. Painter Chang still decided to publish the letter from Yangguan mentioning writer Wu, which seemed to imply that "Lost Yumen" had a problem with cat peeping.

This was obviously contrary to what writer Wu said.

Moreover, according to Jian Jing's impression of Chang Huajia, it was extremely unlikely that Wu would try to persuade her after they had a quarrel. She decided to make a big fuss in a fit of anger, which was more in line with her personality.

But there was a problem. In the middle of the night, would Wu go to the painter and the painter open the door for him?

"What if he climbed in through the balcony?" Officer Liang said solemnly, "We always thought that the murderer came in through the front door, locked the door, and then climbed out of the balcony. Is it possible that he climbed in from the beginning?"

Jian Jing asked back, "Then why did he wipe off the fingerprints?"

Officer Liang's shoulders slumped, but she insisted, "We'd better search the scene carefully again. There must be important clues that have been overlooked."

Jian Jing agreed.

The two focused on the balcony and searched on the ground bit by bit.

Just as she was about to scrub the balcony with her knees, Jian Jing finally found a clue that was easily overlooked with her extraordinary observation.

On the inside of the railing of the studio balcony, there was a piece of yellow oil paint that had not yet dried. Judging from the location, it seemed that Painter Chang got it on his hand and accidentally wiped it off while holding the railing.

Now, part of the paint has been scraped off.

Jian Jing clapped her hands: "Writer Wu."

"Huh?" Officer Liang was puzzled.

Jian Jing explained: "I glanced at Writer Wu's slippers before, and there was something yellowish-brown on the toe of the shoe. I thought it was dirt, so I didn't pay much attention to it."

At that time, her main attention was on Writer Wu himself, occasionally shifting to the suitcase, and just glancing at the shoes. If it weren't for the help of the intermediate observation card, I'm afraid I would have missed this small detail.

Officer Liang showed a little joy: "It seems that we are very close to the truth."

Jian Jing said nothing. She was not so optimistic, and there were some problems that she had not figured out.

Of course, this did not prevent them from confronting Writer Wu.

Writer Wu would naturally not admit to turning over the balcony, but when the shoes were turned out, the evidence was irrefutable, and he had to admit it even if he didn't want to.

"Mr. Wu, you must come with me." Officer Liang was ruthless and showed no mercy.

Writer Wu's face turned pale and blue. After a while, he blurted out: "It has nothing to do with me. She was like that when I went in!"

As if he was afraid that he would miss the chance to explain himself, his attitude changed 180 degrees and he quickly explained: "I thought she was taking a shower in the bathroom and didn't know she was dead. Later, I accidentally made a noise and there was no movement inside, so I took a look. Who knew she was just lying there, not breathing at all."

"What did you do?"

"Of course I locked the door! If someone found out that I sneaked into her room in the middle of the night, I would never be able to wash myself clean even if I jumped into the Yellow River!" Writer Wu said angrily, "But her death has nothing to do with me. I just, just did what I had to do and left. I didn't touch her at all."

Jian Jing caught the key message: "Lock the door? Is the door open?"

"Nonsense, how could I get in if it wasn't open?" Writer Wu could tolerate Officer Liang's unreasonableness, but he refused to give in to her, a junior in the industry, and said in a rough voice, "There was no sound in the room, and the door was open. I thought she was not there and was fooling around with someone. You should know that she was dead in there, and I would not go in even if I killed myself."

His self-defense was surprisingly logical and self-consistent.

Writer Wu was already in his fifties or sixties, and he neglected to exercise. It was really a bit far-fetched to say that he planned to climb over the balcony to steal things when Chang Huajia was sleeping.

Chang Huajia was neither deaf nor blind. What would he do if he was caught? It would undoubtedly be more appropriate to wait until no one was around and then sneak in.

"Did you wipe the fingerprints on the door lock?" Jian Jing asked for confirmation.

"Yes, no?" Writer Wu looked uncomfortable. It was funny to say that the detail of wiping fingerprints was a knowledge point he remembered when he read a mystery novel - although he criticized the story to no avail.

Jian Jing was silent in thought.

Officer Liang was impartial: "Please tell me clearly what you did in that room."

At this point, Writer Wu knew that he could not hide it, and reluctantly said: "It was something that Old Yang promised to give me."

Officer Liang asked him to open the suitcase.

Writer Wu refused several times, so he had to open the box and take out a torn manuscript.

This was Yang Guan's early manuscript, named "Yumen Yushi".

"Back then, Lao Yang and I talked about some things in the northwest. We both wanted to write something, but he ran out of inspiration after only three chapters. I found some more information and wrote the article. The source of our information is the same person, which seems normal. Lao Yang didn't say anything when he was alive."

Writer Wu is very smart. He knows that romantic affairs are nothing, but some things may ruin his reputation, so he must be cleared. It happened that Yang Guan and Chang Huajia were both dead, and there was no evidence, so he could do whatever he wanted.

However, the two people present were not in the mood to pursue this for the time being.

Officer Liang asked: "Where did you find this manuscript?"

"In the safe, where else can it be."

Jian Jing checked the scene and knew that there was a safe under the bedside table. But because it required a password, she didn't open it, and couldn't help wondering: "Do you know the password?"

"When I went in, the safe was open."