Sixth Floor, outside Jiang Fuxing's apartment.
Director Zhou used the same trick again, pounding loudly on the door.
An Xin, Gao Lei, and the criminal investigation officers had already caught on. Director Zhou was once again rattling the cage to see who flinched-
When someone with a guilty conscience suddenly found police at their door on the pretext of checking the water meter, with no time to prepare, they would usually betray unusual reactions such as panic or nervousness. Of course, there were exceptions: people with extraordinary composure or some knowledge of how to counter an investigation.
After a round of pounding, it seemed no one was home.
But Director Zhou still refused to give up. He kept pounding and shouted, "Jiang Fuxing, open up! We know you're home. Don't hide in there without making a sound!"
An Xin couldn't help pointing out, "Director Zhou, maybe he really isn't-"
Before he could finish, the door clicked open. A burly, middle-aged man with a buzz cut stood in the doorway, looking at Zhou Yi and the others through bleary eyes. "Knock, knock, knock! What the hell are you knocking for? You think being cops makes you special? Cops don't let people sleep now?"
Faced with such a hot temper, Director Zhou immediately became amiable. His voice turned soothing and gentle, a complete departure from his earlier rough pounding. "You're Jiang Fuxing, correct? We're from the Provincial Public Security Department. We'd like to verify a few leads in Yao Changjiang's disappearance."
"Come in!" Jiang Fuxing said bluntly.
"On the afternoon of August fifteenth, 2003, I was on my way home when I saw Yao Changjiang get into a black Santana. There was a pretty woman in the car too..."
No matter how many times Jiang Fuxing went over it, that was