Trap and Fingerprints
No sooner had Kong Xiang left the study than the access control communicator in the safe house rang urgently again, displaying Kong Xiang's face, now filled with panic and paleness.
After confirming the information on the surveillance footage, K let him in. Kong Xiang practically stumbled into the living room, his forehead covered in cold sweat, his lips bloodless, and his hand tightly clutching a crumpled brown paper document bag.
"Boss! Brother K! Something... something terrible has happened!" Kong Xiang's voice trembled, completely losing his usual composure. He rushed to Lin Feng, disregarding even etiquette, and slammed the file folder onto the coffee table with a "thud." "That Mike... that bastard set me up! He's trying to kill me!"
Lin Feng sat on the sofa, his gaze calmly sweeping over Kong Xiang's pale face and the file folder. He didn't speak, but simply raised his chin, signaling him to calm down and explain.
Kong Xiang took several deep breaths, his chest heaving violently, barely suppressing the sobs and fear in his throat, and began to narrate incoherently:
"Today... this morning, the anti-narcotics team raided an underground drug manufacturing site and seized a batch of new mixed drugs. These drugs are highly unstable and are crucial evidence. The most critical small sample, numbered 'N-774,' was sent to our lab for emergency component analysis and fingerprint extraction. According to procedure, this type of evidence must be processed with priority, and it's being handled jointly by me and another senior technician, Linda, with two people working together and supervising each other."
"But Linda was called to a meeting by her supervisor. After the evidence handover, only Mike, me, and I were left in the lab. Before leaving, the supervisor told me to do the receiving registration and preliminary external inspection first, and to open the bag when Linda returned. I did as he said, signed the registration form, put the evidence bag in the designated shockproof and antimagnetic tray, and went to the equipment room next door to get new sampling tools. The whole process took no more than five minutes!"
Kong Xiang's pupils dilated with fear, and his voice became more rapid:
"When I returned, the evidence bag was still on the tray. But I felt... something was off. The special tape sealing the bag seemed to have been tampered with; there was a tiny, unnatural crease. My heart skipped a beat, but I didn't dare say anything, thinking I'd wait for Linda to come back so we could open the bag and check it together. About twenty minutes later, Linda returned, and we prepared to open the bag according to procedure, under full surveillance."
At this point, Kong Xiang's face had turned deathly pale, and he suddenly grabbed his hair:
"But... but when the bag was opened, most of the precious powdery sample inside... had become damp and clumped together! It was also mixed with some strange white crystals, completely unlike the original record! The evidence was contaminated, or even possibly switched! Linda was stunned and immediately reported it to her supervisor and the Internal Affairs Division (IAD)."
As Kong Xiang recounted the events, the protagonist understood what had happened:
The air seemed to freeze in the evidence analysis area of the Seattle Police Department's Criminalistics Division. When evidence bag N-774 was opened, what appeared before everyone was not the "dry, uniform pale blue crystalline powder" described in the narcotics report, but a small, damp mass of varying shades, somewhat hardened, with suspicious water stains around the edges, and a few irregular white crystals mixed in. Anyone with a modicum of experience could see that this bag of evidence had been severely damaged, its evidentiary value greatly diminished, and it might even raise questions about the prosecution's entire chain of evidence.
The lab supervisor, a stern and rigid middle-aged woman, had a livid face. Two detectives from the Internal Affairs Division had sharp, hawk-like eyes. Linda stood to the side, both shocked and furious, repeatedly emphasizing that the evidence was intact before she left and that there was a handover record. All eyes eventually focused on Kong Xiang —he was the only person who had handled the evidence alone for an extended period of time after Linda left, even if it was only for a few minutes.
Kong Xiang's heart felt like it was being gripped tightly by an icy hand. He forced himself to calm down and explained that he had gone to collect the tools, that the evidence was intact when he left, and that he had noticed something amiss with the seal when he returned. But his words sounded weak and powerless in the face of the "facts."
"Where are the lab's security cameras? Check them!" the supervisor snapped.
However, when the technicians retrieved the surveillance footage covering that time period, the evidence table, and the surrounding area, everyone's hearts sank. The screen was filled with static, then went still, the last valid image frozen on the moment Kong Xiang left the evidence table and walked towards the door.
The technician, sweating profusely, frantically worked on the device. "Supervisor, this... this section of storage has a problem. The video stream from when Kong Xiang left until Linda returned—about eight minutes in total—is corrupted and unrecoverable. The backend logs show that an unexplained read/write error occurred in the corresponding sector of the storage array during that time period. We've already reported it for repair..."
Just when Kong Xiang left, just when the evidence might have been tampered with, the surveillance system just happened to malfunction. This coincidence was too perfect, so perfect that it resembled a meticulously designed trap.
Kong Xiang felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave. He suddenly looked at Mike, who was standing on the outskirts of the crowd with his arms crossed and a barely perceptible sneer on his lips. When Mike met his gaze, instead of looking away, he raised an eyebrow, his eyes seeming to say: See, I told you, a newbie like you can't get by here.
The experienced detectives from the Internal Affairs Division didn't immediately draw conclusions, but their questioning had completely shifted to Kong Xiang. They inquired in detail about the reasons for Kong Xiang departure, his route, the time it took, who he encountered in the equipment room, and whether anyone could testify that he hadn't returned to the lab. Kong Xiang's answers were mechanical and hesitant; he realized he was being drawn deeper and deeper into an invisible trap.
"We need to examine the fingerprints on the evidence bag and the residue inside, as well as traces in the relevant areas of the laboratory," an agent said.
Professional fingerprint extraction and comparison work was then carried out. When the results came out, Kong Xiang's last bit of hope was completely shattered.
Near the suspicious crease on the damaged seal of the evidence bag, several fresh and complete fingerprints were clearly extracted. After preliminary comparison with the database, some of the blurry fingerprints matched those of the personnel transferred by the anti-drug team, but the most crucial and clearest fingerprint—a right thumb fingerprint—perfectly matched the fingerprints recorded when Kong Xiang joined the police station.
Inside the evidence bag, on the inner plastic wall near the damaged and contaminated area, some extremely faint and incomplete friction ridge marks were also extracted. According to expert analysis, they highly matched the local characteristics of Kong Xiang's right index finger.
"This is impossible!" Kong Xiang exclaimed, his whole body turning ice-cold. "I was wearing gloves when I registered, and I only touched the edge of the bag! I didn't open it at all! There's no way I could have touched anything inside!"
"But fingerprints don't lie, Mr. Kong." The Internal Affairs Division officer's tone was businesslike and devoid of emotion. "External fingerprints could perhaps be explained by the registration process. But internal fingerprints... According to regulations, only personnel performing the opening of the bag could access the inner wall under specific circumstances. And according to the records and your statement, you did not perform the opening of the bag."
The logic seems to be closed. Kong Xiang was the last person to have independent access to the evidence (albeit briefly), the surveillance happened to malfunction, the evidence was destroyed, and his fingerprints appeared in the place where they shouldn't have been—inside the evidence bag. Motive? Perhaps he harbored resentment towards Mike's retaliation, deliberately destroying important evidence to retaliate against the police? Perhaps it was a hidden connection to the case? Or perhaps it was simply a "work error" he was trying to cover up? Faced with irrefutable "evidence," there are many possible speculations about the motive.
Kong Xiang was immediately suspended from all duties and restricted from leaving the police station building. He underwent several hours of formal questioning in the Internal Affairs Division's office.
He repeatedly stated the facts and denied the charges, but all his defenses seemed hollow and powerless in the face of "damaged surveillance footage" and "conclusive fingerprints."
Finally, he was allowed to leave temporarily, but was told to "keep communication open at all times and cooperate with the subsequent investigation," and handed over his access card and laboratory access. This meant that he not only lost his job, but also might face a felony charge of "intentionally destroying judicial evidence," which, if proven true, would lead to disgrace and imprisonment.
"Boss, I really didn't! I swear!" Kong Xiang finished speaking, almost collapsing from exhaustion, his eyes red-rimmed. "It was Mike! It must be him! He knew the approximate maintenance cycle and vulnerabilities of the surveillance system. While I was getting the tools, he destroyed the evidence, and then, I don't know how, he forged my fingerprints in the bag! He wanted to kill me!"
He grabbed the manila envelope, his hands trembling, and pulled out a few sheets of paper. "This is a summary of the internal investigation report and a fingerprint comparison diagram that I secretly photographed with my phone before I left... Also, I found out that the server with the storage failure was the one Mike was working on for a routine check with an external IT company last week! He has a chance!"
The documents were scattered on the coffee table, their technical jargon and fingerprint patterns resembling mocking spells.
The living room was deathly silent, save for Kong Xiang's suppressed, heavy breathing.
K picked up the papers, quickly scanned them, his eyes cold. He looked at Lin Feng.
Lin Feng remained calmly seated, listening to Kong Xiang's entire account without a trace of surprise on his face, as if he were merely listening to a somewhat clumsy script he had already anticipated. His gaze fell upon the photocopies of the "conclusive" evidence, then slowly lifted to look out the window at the somber Seattle night sky.
After a moment, he spoke softly, his voice low but carrying a decisive air that cut through the chaos:
"Knew."
He didn't comment on whether Kong Xiang was wronged, nor did he analyze how Mike did it. Just those three simple words made Kong Xiang, who was on the verge of collapse, feel as if he had grabbed the last piece of driftwood. His taut nerves suddenly relaxed, and he almost collapsed.
"K," Lin Feng turned to his assistant, his tone still calm, but giving a clear instruction, "Contact ' Roger.' Have him handle it. I want to see the results by noon tomorrow."
"Yes, boss." K replied without hesitation, a cold glint in his eyes. He put away the papers and turned to walk towards the internal communication equipment.
Kong Xiang stared blankly. Although he didn't know who "Roger" was, the boss's calm attitude and K's decisive execution gave rise to a faint but real warmth and hope in his heart, which was on the verge of despair.
Night deepened. City lights cast blurry patches of light on the damp glass.
The trap set for Kong Xiang has been laid, and it seems to be flawless.
But the hunter may never have imagined what kind of shadow lurked behind the prey his trap was targeting, and what cold eyes were about to open within that shadow.