The crackdown on organized crime began with the arrest of the mother-in-law.

Chapter 1029 Recovery of Stolen Goods and Identification

"Xiao Wang, lead the team to Zhao Gang's rented house and search every hidden corner; Xiao Zhou, lead a group to Zhou Jianguo's hometown, be careful not to alert him; Xiao Sun, Xiao Sun, are responsible for organizing people to retrieve the tools used in the crime." Li Ming assigned tasks methodically, "Remember, these stolen money and goods are important evidence for conviction, so make sure they are absolutely safe."

When Xiao Wang led his team to Zhao Gang's rented room, it was already dark. It was a dilapidated residential building, the motion-activated lights in the hallway flickering on and off. Opening the door, a pungent, musty smell hit them. The room was a mess, with beer cans and instant noodle boxes scattered haphazardly. "Search carefully, don't miss a single place," Xiao Wang ordered, and the team members immediately dispersed.

While one of the team members was turning over the mattress, he suddenly shouted, "Team Leader Wang, we've found something!" Underneath the mattress was a black plastic bag containing neatly stacked bundles of cash. After counting, it totaled 150,000 yuan. In a hidden compartment of the wardrobe, the team members also found Li Baocun's watch and gold necklace; under strong light, traces of blood were still visible on the surface of the jewelry.

Meanwhile, Xiao Zhou and his team arrived at Zhou Jianguo's hometown. It was a quiet little village, and Zhou Jianguo's parents were terrified when the police arrived. "We really didn't know our son had done anything wrong!" Zhou Jianguo's mother cried. After patiently calming the elderly woman, Xiao Zhou followed the clues to the backyard. Under an old locust tree, the team members used shovels to dig through the soft soil, and soon an iron box was revealed. Inside the box was the 50,000 yuan of stolen money that Zhou Jianguo had received; the banknotes were tightly wrapped in a plastic bag to prevent them from getting damp.

At the section of the river where Zhao Gang and Zhou Jianguo discarded their murder weapons, Xiao Sun directed the salvage team. The river water was icy cold, and the team members, wearing waterproof suits, used specially made retrieval hooks to search the riverbed, aided by the light of searchlights. "There's something here!" a team member shouted. As the retrieval hook slowly rose, a rusty iron rod emerged from the water, with black strips of cloth wrapped around it. After comparison, it was confirmed to be the murder weapon used in the crime. Subsequently, the team members also retrieved the black duct tape used to cover the license plate.

After several days of intensive pursuit, the police successfully recovered the vast majority of the stolen money and goods. When Li Baocun's family came to the police station to claim his belongings, Li Baocun's wife wept uncontrollably, saying, "Thank you, you've allowed Lao Li to rest in peace." Seeing the family's grief and gratitude, the team members involved in the recovery operation were even more determined to uphold justice. These recovered stolen goods are not only evidence in court, but also powerful proof to comfort the victims and demonstrate the majesty of the law. They will, in court, bring this case to a just conclusion.

On the morning of the 15th day after the incident, dark clouds hung low, as if mourning the tragedy. Several police cars slowly drove into Qinghuai Residential Area and stopped in front of the building where Li Baocun lived. Zhao Gang, handcuffed and shackled, stepped out of the car, his face pale, under the tight escort of several police officers. His eyes darted away, avoiding the angry and disgusted gazes of the surrounding residents.

The hallway was eerily quiet, save for the clattering of Zhao Gang's shackles on the floor, each step like a heavy death knell. Reaching room 203, Li Ming gestured for the officers to open the door. The moment the door opened, a pungent, musty smell of blood mixed with dust assaulted their nostrils. Although the scene had been cleaned, the faint traces of blood on the walls and the marks on the floor still spoke of the tragedy that had unfolded there.

"Begin the identification," Li Ming said coldly.

The creaking of the door opening echoed in the hallway. Zhao Gang, supported by two police officers, stumbled across the threshold like a puppet. September sunlight streamed obliquely into the room through the dusty window, casting interlaced shadows on his ashen face. The metallic clanging of handcuffs and shackles, mixed with the clattering of his teeth, was particularly jarring in the deathly silence of the room.

His Adam's apple bobbed violently, and his parched lips moved three times before he could manage a weak breath. His nails dug deep into his palms, and the old scar from the iron rod suddenly throbbed with a sharp, sharp pain, as if he were touching cold metal again. Dark brown bloodstains still lingered in the grout of the entryway tiles, their color turning a ghostly blue under the luminol solution—a color that made his knees buckle, and he nearly collapsed to the ground.

“That day…” The hoarse voice caught in his throat, like a rusty gear struggling to turn. He mechanically raised his stiff arm, his sleeve slipping down to reveal gruesome claw marks on his wrist—marks left by Li Baocun's desperate struggle before his death. Memories flooded back: the moment the security door opened, the change in Li Baocun's expression from confusion to terror, the whistling sound of the iron bar as it swung, and the feeling of warm blood splattering on his face—each scene flashed repeatedly on his retina.

"I...I hit him with an iron rod." The last words faded into the stagnant air. His pupils suddenly contracted sharply, as if he could see again the wound on Li Baocun's forehead, blood gushing out like a fountain, staining the beige wallpaper red. The stench of blood from that day seemed to transcend time and space, filling his nostrils once more. His stomach churned, and he staggered, grabbing the shoe cabinet for support. His knuckles turned white from the force of the grip. The family photo of Li Baocun on the inside of the cabinet door blurred into a patch of light before his eyes.

Then, he slowly walked to the center of the living room, where Li Baocun had fallen: "He tried to resist and shouted for help. I was afraid of being discovered, so I kept hitting him until he stopped moving..." At this point, Zhao Gang suddenly squatted down, covered his head with his hands, as if trying to escape this horrific memory.

Xiao Wang watched Zhao Gang's every move intently, his eyes filled with anger and disdain: "Continue, where did you rob the money?"

Zhao Gang slumped to the ground, his back soaked in cold sweat pressed against the cold tiles, a whimper like that of a trapped beast escaping his throat. When Xiao Wang's question struck like a hammer blow, his cloudy eyes suddenly trembled violently, his fingernails digging deep into the old wounds on his palms, drawing crescent-shaped bloody marks from the flesh.

"Get up! Explain yourself!" Li Ming's voice ripped through the deathly silence like a steel whip. Zhao Gang groaned incoherently, his knees slamming heavily against the floor with a dull thud. He slowly rose, leaning against the wall, his knuckles white from the exertion, leaving several damp handprints on the wall.

The short walk to the bedroom felt like an eternity to him. Each step, the creaking of the floorboards, sounded like Li Baocun's dying gasps. The crooked photo frame by the bedroom door stung his eyes—the smile of Li Baocun embracing his wife and children in the picture now felt like a thousand steel needles piercing his heart.

“There… there.” His fingers trembled uncontrollably as he pointed to the bedside table drawer.