The Forensic Doctor Better Than a Detective

At this moment, the office building of the Guangling City Public Security Bureau was utterly quiet.

In the director’s office, Mr. Chen was sitting alone behind the large desk, going through a thick stack of documents laid out before him.

The light from outside filtered through the half-closed blinds, casting a few faint shadows across the furrow between his brows.

The fountain pen in his hand paused on the paper and, in the end, still did not fall—at the very instant he was about to sign, the scene from yesterday when the provincial task force arrived once again surfaced clearly in his mind.

The comrades who had come down from the provincial department wore solemn expressions; though their manners were thoroughly polite, there was always an undeniable sense of distance about them.

Thinking of this, Mr. Chen’s brows knit slightly of their own accord, and the pen in his hand was lightly set down on the documents.

He leaned back into the chair and raised a hand to rub his temples.

It seemed he would still have to take the initiative to ease relations with the task force; otherwise, in future when it came to coordinating work or cooperating on cases, estrangement would be hard to avoid.

But how exactly should he gauge the tone of such a goodwill gesture, and from where should he begin? Just thinking about it brought on a faint, dull headache.

He picked up the teacup by his hand and raised it to his lips, taking two slow sips.

The warm tea did nothing to dispel the vexation in his chest; instead, it made him think of another matter—last night he had specifically instructed Mr. Qin to arrange a barbecue, to privately entertain the comrades from the task force.

It had been meant as a goodwill gesture, hoping to use a relaxed atmosphere to narrow the distance between them, yet up to now there hadn’t been the slightest word back from Mr. Qin’s side.

He had no idea how that meal had gone, whether it had achieved the intended effect.

Mr. Chen set the teacup down, and his gaze unconsciously shifted to the mobile phone lying quietly on the desk.

He thought, perhaps he might as well call Mr. Qin now—on the one hand to ask about the reception, and on the other to take the opportunity to find out how far they had gotten with the re-examination of the body.

Although this was only a routine step in the case review, and so much time had already passed that, in theory, no breakthrough discovery should be expected, he still had to keep a grasp on every detail out of duty.

Just as his fingers were about to touch the screen, the phone suddenly began to vibrate, its ringtone sounding especially crisp in the quiet office.

Mr. Chen lowered his head to look—the display was flashing the three characters for "Mr. Qin."

He was slightly taken aback, then the corner of his mouth tugged into a wry smile that was somewhere between helpless and knowing.

Did this count as "a mutual understanding without a word"?

He had just been thinking of calling him, and the call had come in instead.

Mr. Chen did not hesitate; with a light swipe of his fingertip, he answered the call.

"Hello."

On the other end came Mr. Qin’s familiar voice at once.

Mr. Chen said, "Has the autopsy on your side already been completed?"

"Let’s arrange a meal at noon. I’ll be there; we’ll invite the comrades from the task force for a simple lunch and, at the same time, exchange information."

Hearing this, Qin Feng fell silent for a moment; his voice dropped even lower, as if he were weighing every word: "Mr. Chen, there’s something... I may need to report to you privately."

"Oh? What is it?" On this end, Mr. Chen’s tone sounded as calm as ever, as though he hadn’t sensed anything amiss.

"It’s about the autopsy... We’ve just made a new discovery on our side."

"A new discovery?" There was a barely perceptible note of doubt in Mr. Chen’s voice. "Hasn’t the body already been stored for some time? What new discovery could there still be?"

Qin Feng drew in a deep breath, as if gathering all his courage in that motion, before continuing in a low, steady voice: "Just now, during the re-examination, we unexpectedly found signs of localized hemorrhage in the cervical spinal cord region."

"Based on our current analysis, this was very likely caused by external traction exerted on the neck, which in turn led to respiratory failure."

"In other words, the cause of death may not have been the previously determined sudden cardiac death."

Before his words had fully fallen, a crisp clink of porcelain suddenly came through from the other end of the line.

The teacup in Mr. Chen’s hand clearly shook; the tea and the floating leaves inside swayed up together, nearly spilling onto the documents on the desk.

His pitch rose sharply in that instant, filled with incredulous shock: "What?"

"Not sudden death caused by coronary artery sclerosis of the heart? Traction injury to the neck?"

"Are you sure? There can’t be the slightest mistake with something like this!"

Although he had left the front lines of criminal investigation for many years, Mr. Chen had once been an experienced CID captain who had handled countless cases of unnatural death.

He knew better than anyone that the autopsy conclusion was the cornerstone of a case, directly determining the direction of the investigation.

This sudden reversal was anything but trivial; there might be far more complex hidden factors behind it.

Forcing himself to steady his nerves, he placed the teacup firmly back on the desk and pressed on, "Qin Feng, tell me—how reliable is this information? How confident are you?"

At this moment, Qin Feng was standing in the cold corridor outside the forensic dissection center, pacing back and forth in agitation, beads of sweat almost forming at his temples: "Mr. Chen, how would I dare speak carelessly about something like this?"

"I’m just as anxious right now! If this discovery holds, it means that our previous work... may all have gone down the wrong track, and the follow-up investigation will be extremely tricky."

"But the facts are right in front of us; I can’t not report them."

Mr. Chen’s brows were tightly drawn together, his thoughts racing amid the shock: "Do Director Hou and the others know about this conclusion yet?"

"Didn’t we specifically invite forensic professors from the medical university to do the appraisal before?"

"Their authority has always been widely recognized—how could such a fundamental deviation have occurred?"

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