What came was a man in his forties, holding a six or seven-year-old boy in his hand. It was Li Chunhua's husband Zhao Gang and his son Zhao Yubao.
Both father and son were wearing cotton-padded clothes that were not old, and the man was carrying a blue backpack.
Duan Mo let people into the office and discovered that one of Zhao Gang's legs was lame. When he walked, the leg was stiff and his whole foot dragged on the ground.
There was no sofa in the office, so Duanmo pulled out two chairs for the father and son to sit down, then took two cups of warm water in paper cups and placed them on the desk in front of them.
"You guys sit down for a while and I'll make a call."
Jiang Muyang was not in the bureau, and Lu Wuchuan went to the forensic department. After all, it was her first time to participate in the case and she could not make the decision without authorization.
More than ten minutes later, she followed Lu Wuchuan's instructions and took Zhao Gang and his son to the backyard. There was a four-story red building where the forensic department was located.
In the reception room on the first floor, Lu Wuchuan briefly exchanged a few words with Zhao Gang, then his eyes fell on Zhao Yubao: "Let the child stay here."
When the little boy heard that he was not allowed to follow him, he clutched the lapel of his father's clothes tightly with his little hands, with fear in his eyes, as if he was afraid of being abandoned.
Lu Wuchuan squatted down, put his hands on his knees and looked at the little guy at eye level: "Dad wants to talk to uncle about something serious. Wait here with aunt, okay?"
Duanmo also felt that such bloody scenes would leave a psychological shadow on children, but she really didn't expect that he would be so meticulous and patient, and his tone would be so gentle that he was completely different from his usual self.
Zhao Gang stuffed his backpack into his son's arms and said angrily: "Wait."
Zhao Yubao pursed his lips and did not dare to speak anymore. He hugged the bag tightly in his arms.
Duanmo took out a piece of toffee from his pocket and said, "Good boy, Yubao, after this candy is finished, daddy will be back."
The two men left one after the other. Zhao Yubao looked up at her, hesitated for a moment, then took the candy, peeled off the wrapper and stuffed it into his mouth.
"Sister, is my mother really dead?" the little guy asked vaguely.
Duanmo sat down next to him and rubbed his little head regardless of what he called her: "Yubao is a man. He can grow up healthily without his mother by his side."
She did not answer the question directly because she knew how painful it would be to lose a loved one.
Zhao Yubao sucked the candy in his mouth and snorted: "It would be better to die, so as not to be embarrassed."
Duan Mo didn't expect the child to say such words, so he turned his head to look at him. He saw that there was no sadness on the little guy's face, but instead a look of indifference.
"Don't glare at me, everything I said is true." Zhao Yubao lowered his head slightly, "She hasn't come back to see me for a long time. They all said she was out to sell, and they stopped playing with me.
Bully me."
Presumably the "they" he said should refer to his little friends.
Rural people don't shy away from talking, and their children don't hold back their words. Even if they don't know exactly what "selling" means, they still understand that it's not a glorious thing, and they naturally look down on Zhao Yubao.
Just like back then, even though she had the aura of being the child of a martyr, she would still be criticized behind her back. But no matter how much resentment she had in her heart, she never thought of letting that woman die, or even cursed her.
I never had any thoughts of not doing well.
Because no matter how many wrong things she did, she was the one who brought herself into this world, gave herself life, and gave herself a wonderful childhood.
As the years passed, the number of times she thought about her became less and less. If it weren't for the timely account information reminder every month, she would even forget that there was a woman related to her by blood in a distant country.
Her thoughts were wandering endlessly, and it wasn't until Zhao Yubao next to her called out "Dad" and ran towards the door that she came back to her senses.
Zhao Yubao raised his head, as if waiting for an answer from his father.
Zhao Gang's expression was a bit complicated, depressed, frustrated, sad, and even a little angry, but not sad.
He lowered his eyes and glanced at his son, took the backpack from his hand and put it on his back: "Let's go back."
Duan Mo looked at Lu Wuchuan confused and heard him say: "Keep the phone open. If there are any further questions, we will contact you at any time."
Zhao Gang nodded and led Zhao Yubao away.
"What's going on?" Duanmo asked after the father and son disappeared completely.
Lu Wuchuan turned around and said, "Zhao Gang said when it can be cremated, he will come and take away the ashes."
Duan Mo sighed, because of Zhao Gang's ruthlessness and Zhao Yubao's indifference.
"Why are you sighing?" Lu Wuchuan looked at her. When he came in just now, he saw that the girl was distracted.
"Emotions in the world are too fragile, whether it is family affection or love."
"While there is a time when spring is sad and autumn is sad, it is better to think more about the clues of the case."
Duan Mo, who was ridiculed, raised his chin and said dissatisfiedly: "Officer Lu, you are so straight, be careful not to have any friends!"
"It doesn't matter if you don't have any friends who rely on flattery. Let's go back to work." Lu Wuchuan walked out of the reception room door with his long legs.
Duanmo thought for a moment, but couldn't find the right words to reply. She rolled her eyes at his back and followed him.
…
On Monday morning, Duan Mo was the only one in the office. Zhong Kai called and said that Li Chunhua's autopsy report had come out and asked her to go and get it.
In the Forensic Medicine Office, Zhong Kai looked at the girl who was reading the report carefully, and said with concern: "Do you want me to tell you about it?"
There are many obscure professional terms in the autopsy report. Most police officers only read the final summary. Few people will read every page so carefully.
"Hemorrhage in the sternocleidomastoid muscle, sternohyoid muscle and other muscle layers, focal bleeding in the thyroid gland, posterior pharyngeal wall, and cervical lymph nodes, and obvious edema in the larynx. Are these all symptoms of strangulation?" Duan Mo asked softly.
Zhong Kai raised his eyebrows: "You're right, the deceased was strangled to death with both hands. However, except for a small amount of dander tissue in the nails, there were no traces of resistance, and no drugs were administered. Only found in the stomach.
There is alcohol residue, but not much, and it will not cause loss of consciousness."
Death by strangulation is all homicide, and death by self-strangulation is basically impossible, because by strangulation of the neck, when consciousness begins to be lost, the muscle tone of the limbs also disappears rapidly, and it is impossible to continue to strangle the neck to cause death.
Anyone who is strangled by the neck will resist, unless they are drugged and knocked unconscious in advance. But Li Chunhua has not taken any drugs, and there is not much alcohol left, which means that she was strangled to death while she was conscious. But why didn't she
What about resistance?
Duan Mo raised his question, and Zhong Kaixu coughed twice and said: "This goes back to the possibility I told Lao Lu before. The deceased had a tendency to be abused and was choked when doing that kind of thing.
Neck, the suffocation feeling will make her more excited."