The Web of Deception

"Zhao, sit," said Gao Dong, the Deputy Director of the Provincial Public Security Department, waving his hand and signaling Zhao Tiemin to sit down. He pulled out a cigarette and tossed one to Zhao, lighting his own. An unreadable expression flickered across his face. "I've got a meeting later, so I won't waste your time. The reason I called you here is to ask about Zhang Chao. Was Jiang Yang killed by Zhang Chao?"

Zhao Tiemin glanced at Gao Dong, his mind beginning to race with thoughts.

Gao Dong was the only one among the department's senior leaders with a background in criminal investigations. He was once renowned as a brilliant detective in the provincial police system. Years ago, when Zhao worked in the Criminal Investigation Division, Gao was the head of the division and Zhao's superior. But since Gao became Deputy Director, his involvement in specific case investigations had ceased. His new role only allowed him to provide theoretical guidance and oversee personnel decisions. When cases were solved, it was always attributed to "the leadership of the Public Security Department," but when cases remained unsolved, it was never his fault.

Although the Zhang Chao case had caused a media stir, in Gao Dong's eyes, it was still a minor matter. Regardless of the final outcome, it would simply be used in a future leadership meeting as an example of "learning from past mistakes." That Gao Dong was taking the time to meet with him specifically about this case was intriguing.

Zhao Tiemin answered cautiously, "We've repeatedly confirmed with the forensic doctor, and the autopsy report is accurate. The victim, Jiang Yang, was strangled to death on the night of March 1st. Zhang Chao, however, flew to Beijing at noon on March 1st and returned the next morning, with ample evidence to support his whereabouts during that time. So… it's clear that Zhang Chao didn't kill him. That much is certain."

Gao Dong didn't seem surprised at all by this conclusion. "I heard that the prosecutor's preliminary conclusion was that the police had coerced a confession?"

Zhao Tiemin scratched his head awkwardly. "The prosecutor's office is full of legal experts, but they're office-bound and don't really understand the practical side of things. The investigation team at Xicheng District did their job according to the usual procedures, and I don't see any issues with it. Setting aside the confession, the physical evidence was solid—Jiang Yang was strangled with a rope, and Zhang Chao's fingerprints and DNA were found on the rope. His skin cells were under the victim's fingernails, and Zhang's neck showed signs of a struggle. The only issue is that the officers didn't realize Zhang Chao had been in Beijing that day, meeting with two clients. Looking back, it seems he intentionally set a trap, guiding the police to extract a false confession."

"Interesting," Gao Dong said with a smile, flicking his ash. "A case where both the conviction and the reversal have solid evidence chains. This case is quite unique. The current government is doing judicial reforms, and the provincial authorities have overturned some old cases. But they've all been cases where physical evidence was lacking, and convictions were based solely on confessions. This one, though, the conviction and the reversal both have their evidence. I've never seen anything like it before. It's worth studying. Now, since Zhang Chao didn't kill him, why did he confess? Did he say in court that he wrote the confession under pressure?"

"Zhang Chao admitted that the officers didn't torture him, but he did feel an immense, invisible pressure from the environment in the police station," Zhao Tiemin explained.

"That's a weak excuse," Gao Dong laughed, shaking his head.

"Yes," Zhao Tiemin shrugged helplessly. "But he insists that he wrote the confession out of fear. There's no way to counter that. He's a criminal defense lawyer with excellent oratory skills, better than our trial officers. He's been talking non-stop for days in court, constantly explaining himself with arguments that sound plausible but that I don't buy at all. The trial officers keep rotating shifts, but his energy is incredible. He just talks and talks, offering reasons for everything. And with the public questioning whether the police used force to extract the confession, even the supervisors have been involved, speaking with him multiple times. They think his explanations are reasonable and believe he wasn't involved in the murder, which has made our questioning delicate and passive."

Gao Dong squinted. "So why don't you believe him?"

"You haven't seen how he debates with the trial officers. His mental fortitude is beyond normal. How could a man with such resolve suddenly break down under some vague pressure and confess to a crime he didn't commit? He's a criminal defense lawyer—he knows exactly what the consequences of confessing are. The criminal investigators were fooled from the start. When they first questioned him, he acted all meek and nervous, stumbling over his words, completely different from how he is now. After his case was overturned, he changed completely. To me, this is all a setup."

"So why would he set up such a trap?" Gao Dong pressed.

Zhao Tiemin's voice grew firmer. "He's clearly taking the fall for someone else. He's hiding the real killer's identity."

"No, I don't think that's the case," Gao Dong disagreed, shaking his head. "I don't think he's hiding the truth for the real killer. It's more like—" He suddenly stopped, cutting off his own thought.

"More like what?" Zhao Tiemin asked, curious.

"Nothing. The truth still lies with you. I won't speculate further—it could throw off your investigation." Gao Dong smiled dismissively. "But I do have a suggestion for you. If Zhang Chao intentionally set up this confession-to-reversal scenario, he must have foreseen that even if his case was overturned, the police wouldn't release him. He went and faked a bomb threat at the subway station, which is a direct obstruction of justice and endangering public safety. Now that he's still in detention, he knows the police will keep questioning him until they uncover the truth. Given all he's done, he must be prepared for whatever comes next. So you won't get any useful information from him. Instead, you should investigate Jiang Yang. From what I know, Zhang Chao was once Jiang Yang's university professor. They stayed in touch after graduation, and their relationship has spanned over a decade. Jiang Yang, a former convict with various records, borrowed 300,000 yuan from Zhang Chao to buy a house. Zhang Chao even let him stay at his apartment while he was in Hangzhou for a break. These two were clearly not just ordinary acquaintances."

Zhao Tiemin blinked in realization and then widened his eyes in sudden understanding. "You suspect… suspect there was some sort of unusual, romantic connection between them?"

Gao Dong choked on his cigarette, coughing and waving his hand. "I don't watch enough TV to keep up with your imagination. I don't know, nor do I care, about what happened between them. I just think you won't get anything useful from Zhang Chao, so I suggest you start with the victim, Jiang Yang. If Zhang Chao didn't kill him, treat this case as if Zhang Chao never existed, and investigate Jiang Yang's murder like you would any other case."

Zhao Tiemin paused, considering the suggestion. "But this is a murder that happened months ago. If we follow the usual investigation process and try to question witnesses or gather evidence now, it might not be effective."

Gao Dong tilted his head back and sighed. "Zhao, this isn't some random, opportunistic crime committed by a transient. This is a deliberate, planned murder. Investigating a murder always starts with the victim's relationships and motives. Who's most likely to have killed him? That's where you should focus."

Zhao Tiemin nodded, slowly realizing the wisdom of Gao Dong's advice.

Gao Dong straightened his posture. "It seems like after you became the division chief, you've been sitting in the office too much. Your investigative skills have gotten rusty."

Zhao Tiemin blushed slightly but didn't respond—after all, how could he argue when his boss was criticizing his work?

Gao Dong smiled. "I've got another suggestion for you. You should consult Yan Liang."

"Yan Liang? But I'm not sure he'll be willing to help," Zhao Tiemin said, surprised. Yan Liang used to be a criminal investigation expert at the provincial department, but after a major disciplinary incident, he left the force and became a professor at Zhejiang University. He'd distanced himself from police matters ever since. Zhao had sought his help on cases in the past, some he agreed to, others he refused—he seemed to choose based on his mood, making it hard for Zhao to gauge his willingness.

"He'll help," Gao Dong said confidently. "First, tell him that the victim was a Zhejiang University graduate and that the suspect was once a professor there—both of them are his alumni. Then, tell him I sent you to ask. This case, he's more suited to handle than you are—not just in terms of his professional skills, but in other areas as well."

"Why? He's not even a cop anymore."

Gao Dong fell silent for a moment, then said quietly, "At your level, that's all I can tell you. The truth is out there, but it's up to you to uncover it."

Zhao Tiemin was left stunned, realizing his superior knew far more about this case than he, the investigation team leader, did.

Gao Dong glanced at his watch and stood up, signaling the meeting was over. "One last thing: don't tell anyone that I'm interested in this case."

Zhao Tiemin left the meeting, his mind swirling with even more questions. The case had become even more mysterious, and the web of deceit was deeper than he had imagined.