The "Black Tower" policeman took out the Yellow Crane Tower cigarette he had just put in from his dark green briefcase with the police badge on it, took out one, and handed it to me.

"Thanks, I won't smoke." I say.

He put it to his mouth and held it, took out a composite metal lighter and flicked it with his wrist, and the lighter sounded crisply in his hand, spewing out a blue flame. His mouth sent the cigarette to the blue flame and smoked it, and the cigarette sizzled.

The white-faced policeman put down his pen.

"Black Tower" slowly exhaled the smoke and seemed to ask casually: "Editor Zuo, as a publishing worker, do you like "Wolf Totem"?" ”

I know Wolf Totem is a best-selling novel in the animal genre, but is it related to the case? I looked at the smoke wafting out of the mouth of the "Black Tower" with some confusion. "If you talk about this book, it's not just me, I'm sure a lot of people will like it."

"Have you ever had a wolfdog like 'Chen Zhen'?" 'Chen Zhen' is the protagonist of that animal novel.

"Black Tower" seems to suspect that I have a bad habit of raising wolf cubs. I said decisively, "No." ”

He rested his cigarette on the notch in the ashtray, his gaze sharpened, but his tone remained calm. "And did you see a wolfhound last night?"

I avoided his gaze and looked at the backpack on my lap. "I don't see it." I say. "Does this have anything to do with the case?" I'm a little disgusted by the aggressive gaze of the "Black Tower".

"The wounds on the deceased's body were deep and long, and it seemed that they had been bitten by a wolfhound." His gaze returned to its previous gentleness. "We suspect that the deceased was attacked by a wolfhound."

My mind flashed back to the image of the white and black shadows scuffling last night. That white shadow is obviously a person, how can it be a wolf dog.

I said, "I don't have a wolfhound, and I'm here on a business trip." Even if there were, it was impossible to take it with you. ”

"Black Tower" looked at the backpack on my chest. Said an inconsequential remark: "Where did you buy this bag?" It's beautiful! ”

"In my hometown, it's been a year or two."

"Can you open it and take a look?"

I know I have an obligation to cooperate with the police. I couldn't refuse, but I hesitated. "This ...... Well, this ......."

"Any questions?" He asked.

I looked at the police uniforms I wore on them and felt that I could trust them. "Yes." I said, placing the bag on the table in front of him.

He put on his white gloves and unzipped my backpack and took out the contents one by one and put them on the table: a digital camera, a tablet, a notebook, a set of clothes and pants. Two water-based pens. There was another zipper sound, and the mezzanine inside was opened, and he pulled out my editing card, ID card, wallet, and the bamboo tube that I had to guard against anyone.

He flipped around with the bamboo tube in his hand, looked at the golden cocktail pattern on it, and put it under the tip of his nose to smell it, and his upper body remained still, only turning his head to me and saying, "This thing is antique!" ”

I watched his hand nervously, for fear that he would miss it and drop it on the ground. "Beware!" I say.

He straightened up. Slightly surprised, he said, "What is this?" Antiques? The policeman who made the transcript also stood up and stepped forward, trying to see it more clearly.

"It's just a bamboo tube." I deliberately said it without weight.

"It's not like a bamboo tube." He studied the classical pattern of the barrel.

The policeman who took the note sat back in his chair, his face unsettled. "What is this for?" He said.

"Painted."

"Can you open it and take a look?" Heita said.

"There's just a painting in there." I tried to stop him.

The Black Tower scanned me, as if trying to see through my background. Surprised, he said, "This thing seems to be worth a lot of money?" That's how you carry it with you. ”

As he spoke, he reached out and pulled out the yellow wooden stopper at the top of the bamboo tube, and touched the smooth red flannel cloth on the inner wall of the bamboo tube with his little finger. Somewhat surprised, he said, "What kind of material is this made of?" It's thin and slippery. ”

I didn't answer him what it was made of, because I didn't know either. But I can't say I don't know in front of two policemen who are looking at me with colored glasses, lest they suspect that it's stolen goods.

"Watch out for the paintings inside." I nervously reminded him, "Don't break it." ”

He cast a disdainful glance at my nervousness. Turn the bamboo tube upside down so that the mouth of the tube is facing down. The ancient painting slid down like a feather onto his other hand. He carefully placed the bamboo tube on the table and gently unfolded the scroll with both hands. The policeman who was taking the note leaned over the scroll. The eyes of the two of them radiated brilliance, and they invariably let out an exclamation:

"It's so beautiful!"

An ancient beauty dressed in plain clothes with a jade belt around her waist flowed in the pupils of the two.

The white-faced policeman said: "Like the little dragon girl who is as cold as frost, and like Mu Guiying, who is heroic and cool." He turned to me and asked, "Where did you take this costume photo?" It's very standard."

I glanced at my phone, and more than half an hour had passed. I felt a little anxious and furrowed my brow, but there was still a hint of smugness on my face.

He looked at me, "Is it your girlfriend?" ”

Instead of answering directly, I said, "Is the transcript over?" ”

"Black Tower" looked up from the scroll and looked at the white-faced policeman who was taking notes, and the latter also turned his head to look at the former, as if he had reached some kind of tacit understanding.

"It's over." Heta said, "But I need you to go with us to the police station." ”

I was silent for a few seconds before replying, "Okay." ”

He rolled up the scroll, put it in my hand, got up and walked to the door. The white-faced policeman turned the record book on the table in a circle and faced me: "You see, does it match your narrative?" ”

I leaned over from a nearby chair and dragged the notebook, which was twice the size of my face, to the table in front of me, and scanned it at a rapid pace. "That's it." I say.

"Then you sign here." The white-faced policeman handed over his pen.

I noticed that at the top of the log book it reads: Time: 9:35 a.m. – 10:55 a.m., August 11, 2014. Location: Office of the Security Department of Panlong City Ruins Museum, Dajiang City, Hubei Province. Interrogator: Guo Zhenchao. Recorder: Yin Wenbin.

Obviously, the "Black Tower" is called Guo Zhenchao. The "white face" is called Yin Wenbin.

There is nothing odd about the transcript. I write my name in the bottom right corner of the notebook.

Yin Wenbin took it and looked at it, and closed the record book. Fasten the pen to the cover and place it in the green briefcase. He pointed to the pile of things on the table, which were all my belongings, and said, "Please clean up yourself." ”

I stuffed the scroll into a bamboo tube. Put it in the compartment of the backpack, put other things in the bag, put it on your shoulder, and take the police car to the police station. The white-faced policeman in charge of taking notes, Yin Wenbin, led me to a house full of instruments and handed me over to an old policeman in a white coat with gray hair. The old policeman took out a form for me to fill out, took me to a transparent imager to record my fingerprints on ten fingers, scanned my backpack with a rotating instrument, and asked me to sign the form I had just filled out. Let me go back to Yin Wenbin's office.

"Officer Yin, can you take the liberty of asking, did that person fall from the window on the third floor?" I asked.

"What's wrong?" Yin Wenbin sat behind his desk and put tea in the cup, and when he heard me call out his name, a hint of surprise or panic flashed across his face.

"May I ask?"

"According to the law, you have a certain right to know." His gaze was a little sharper at me.

"Did the man fall from the window?" I tugged the corners of my mouth to the sides.

"According to the preliminary analysis of the results of the on-site investigation, he did fall from your bedroom."

"Did someone push him, or did he jump off on his own?"

"Judging from the footprints at the foot of the wall, he jumped on his own. But before that, he had been attacked, his carotid artery had been bitten, and his nose and ears had been bitten off. His eyes widened, as if he had been greatly frightened. So it is likely that he jumped from the window to escape the attack. Yin Wenbin's expression became serious.

"Can you confirm who attacked him?"

His gaze poked at my forehead like an awl. It's as if I have some trick in my head. "It's hard to say at this time, no fingerprints were found on the deceased's body, and no saliva secretions were extracted from the wounds."

The deceased jumped from the window of my room. The police may have identified me as the main suspect, but because my belongings were not lost. There were no traces of a fight on his body, and there was no motive for the crime. There was no evidence, so they couldn't arrest me, even though they were suspicious.

"You said his wound was bitten?"

"That's right."

"Can you tell what it bites?"

"I don't dare to jump to conclusions yet. The deceased's wounds were two centimeters in diameter, much like the fangs of a large wolfdog. But there has been no shadow of a wolf in the area of Panlong City for hundreds of years. ”

Werewolf – the word comes to my mind again.

"Can that determine the identity of the deceased?" I asked.

"The deceased's name is Tan Wenhu, and he is the deputy director of the security department of the Panlong City Ruins Museum. We are in the process of matching his profile with a computerized crime database. He picked up the thermos on the table and said, "You can go." We'll give you a call when there's the exact news. He stood up and walked to the boiling water room outside the door.

During this time at the police station, my heart was completely calm. I combed through the whole incident in my mind and came to a conclusion that shocked me: if the deceased was a self-stealing antiquities thief, it was a sign that I had been secretly locked up by them. The problem is that there are not many people who know about my ancient paintings, Aunt Zhu and Shen's mother don't know the value of this painting, Xiao Wan of the museum's security department shouldn't know either, and Tan Wenhu, the deputy minister of security who has died inexplicably, shouldn't know either, but why did he appear in my room? Maybe there's someone else behind him.

I think of Mr. Fu, an expert in cultural relics appraisal from the archaeological institute, who is the only one who knows the value of my painting. Strangely enough, I didn't tell him my unit and address at the time. Oh yes, he knows my mobile phone number and can find me accurately with GPS location. In other words, it is very likely that it is the wind that he seems, and Tan Wenhu is very likely to implement the plan to grab the painting under his orders.

Maybe that's the case.

Walking out of the police station, I flipped through the phone number of the cultural relics identification expert in my mobile phone and dialed it directly. He quickly pressed the call button: "Hey, hello! He said excitedly, as if he was just waiting for me to call.

"Hello Teacher Fu!"

"Zuo Yan, hello! What, figured it out? "He seems to think I'm going to ask him to be my auction broker.

"I'll think about the auction again. If it's an auction, I'll leave it to you. I'm calling you today to ask for something else. "I can't say no to him outright, after all, I have something to ask him for.

"What's the matter? You said. His tone calmed down a lot.

"Did you give my phone number to anyone else?"

He froze for two seconds. "What do you mean? Do you suspect that I gave your phone to the auction company? Has anyone called you on a harassing phone? I don't get any benefit from that. ”

"That's not what it meant." I said, "I feel like I'm being targeted." "I'm just going to tell you a little bit about the strange things that happened last night.

"Oh, I see." He seemed relieved on the other end of the phone: "I didn't tell anyone about your number. If you want to keep it in your hands, listen to it. I don't have anything to lose. It was as if I would suffer if I didn't listen to him.

I heard that there was an element of displeasure in his words, and I knew that I would not be able to ask the result, so I hung up the phone. I began to think about whether to tell Officer Guo the original story of the ancient paintings identified at the archaeological institute, but I was worried that once I told the police, I would be exposed by the media and become the target of public criticism. However, if you don't tell the police, you are in a very dangerous situation and your safety is not guaranteed. You know, there is probably someone else behind the deceased, and everyone knows that the person who does this kind of thing is often a gang.

There are no impermeable walls in this world, and I blame that I shouldn't have taken the ancient paintings to the archaeological institute for valuation. But I excuse myself: I can't know its value without the help of the external brain, which in itself is a contradiction. - I'm like that, I like to make excuses for myself when it comes to a critical moment. I scolded myself hard in my heart.

At that moment, a JEEP compass rattled to the ground in front of me, startling me five or six steps backwards.

The window rolled down, and the driver wearing black toad glasses shouted at me, "Left, get in the car!" ”

He took off his glasses, and it turned out to be Minister Zheng of the Security Department of the Panlong City Ruins Museum.

"Got the situation clear?" Minister Zheng looked at me intently and said.

"Not yet." My face was heavy.

"It's going to take a while for this kind of thing to get off the ground." He comforted me in Mandarin with a thick local accent.

I sat in the passenger seat and closed the door. The guide ran silently, out of the alley where the police station was located, turned left into Panlong Avenue, ran for about ten minutes, crossed the Panlong Bridge, passed a section of green covered mountain road, and after a section of detour by the lake, he parked outside the gate of the Panlong City Ruins Museum.

When I got out of the car, I looked up at the antique building, feeling a little strange, and I couldn't tell what the reason was. (To be continued......)