Super Time Detective

Ye Huairui stood up, moved his sore neck, stretched his arms, and stretched his muscles and bones.

"There's still time."

He looked up at the wall clock on the wall, then turned around and brought another cardboard box:

"Okay, now, start checking Box 4."

The carton labeled "4" by Ye Huairui.

This box is relatively small, and the contents are also very sloppy-a pile of scraps of paper and crumpled waste paper were directly stored in an evidence bag. After 39 years of storage, it is still a mess.

A label was pasted on the evidence bag, indicating that these were waste papers picked up from the garbage basket in She Fang’s study. The Jincheng police inspected the contents and found nothing special, so they stuffed them all into the evidence bag , roughly preserved until now.

Ye Huairui poured them all out.

There was no paper shredder back then, and She Fang obviously didn't think these papers were anything important. Some of them were directly lumped together, and some were just roughly torn into several large pieces, and it was not difficult to splice them together.

In fact, for most of them, Ye Huairui didn't even need to stitch them together, because the fragments were big enough to see the contents clearly.

"...real estate advertisements, electricity bills, instruction manuals for tape recorders...a letter sent to him by an aunt, um, the core idea is to borrow money...the discount coupons from the supermarket are actually from 81..."

While arranging these waste papers, Ye Huairui classified them, put together the fragments of the same document, and unknowingly laid out half a table.

"This is ... 'Second Quarter Work Report'."

Ye Huairui smoothed out a piece of crumpled white paper, and whispered the title on it.

This is obviously a half-written work report, and the whole article is printed in English. The spelling, grammar, and wording are very standardized, and it is obviously a well-educated professional.

It's just that only about a third of the paper has text on it.

On the last line, the page seemed to be stuck by something, the handwriting was crooked, and there were signs of folding and dragging.

This thing was not an important thing to She Fang, he didn't even tear it up, and threw it into the garbage basket in a lump.

And the Jincheng police back then probably didn't think the half-page work report that was printed out due to paper jams was meaningful. It didn't even smooth out the wrinkles. When Ye Huairui took it out, it was still half-curled.

But Ye Huairui stared at the page with serious eyes.

"Tingting."

He suddenly said:

"Please help me to get the live photos of She Fang's house!"

Ouyang Tingting didn't know the intention of Ye Huairui's request, but as an assistant, she always knew to do things before asking questions, so she got up immediately to get the on-site photos of She Fang's house back then.

Photos from 39 years ago, even after being sealed in plastic, will inevitably start to fade.

They were stacked in two envelopes, and there were hundreds of them. Many of the plastic envelopes had begun to soften, and they were stuck to each other. They needed to be peeled off one by one manually.

Ye Huairui flipped through the photos one by one.

Ouyang Tingting also moved closer and looked carefully.

These photos show the situation of the She family villa after being invaded by bandits.

The positions of the remains of the woman and child outlined in white chalk, close-ups of bloodstains and footprints, the pried open courtyard door, chains cut by pliers, overturned chairs and broken vases...

"here!"

When turning to a certain sheet, Ye Huairui suddenly stopped.

Ouyang Tingting subconsciously moved closer.

She found that it was a photo of a room with the words "Study 82.7.21" on the label.

Ye Huairui asked Ouyang Tingting to look at the far right of the photo:

"Here, is it a typewriter?"

Ouyang Tingting looked at it carefully for a while, "Hmm...it does look a bit like a typewriter."

Her tone was very uncertain.

After all, as a post-[-] generation, she has never touched an old-fashioned mechanical typewriter. She can only catch a few glimpses in period dramas or spy movies.

But immediately, Ouyang Tingting was stunned.

The girl opened her almond eyes and stared at Ye Huairui, "You mean..."

Ye Huairui nodded, and pushed the waste paper he found just now in front of Ouyang Tingting:

"There is a typewriter in She Fang's study, and this half-page typed report was also found in the trash can in his study."

He asked Ouyang Tingting:

"Do you remember the ashes of paper that you put together for me earlier?"

Half an hour later, Comrade Er Ming, the top photo and image processing expert (self-confessed) in the forensic laboratory of the Jincheng Judicial Police Bureau, was called by Ye Huairui's serial call, and a yellowed photo was stuffed in his hand. waste paper.

After hearing Ye Huairui's request, Zhang Mingming was very surprised:

"You mean, let me compare the characters on this paper, are they typed with the same typewriter as the ashes you got earlier?"

Ye Huairui nodded: "That's right."

He stretched out his hand, pressed Zhang Mingming's shoulder, and squeezed it hard, "I know, you can definitely do it."

Zhang Mingming: "..."

He sighed.

"Well, I can do it."

Zhang Mingming gave in:

"It's actually not difficult, and I'll give you the result soon."

Originally, Comrade Erming's "soon" meant that it would be a day or two later, but both Ye Huairui and Ouyang Tingting were anxious to know the conclusion, and the two of them stared at him intently, their eyes were burning, so eager that it was stressful mountain big.

"...Okay, I'll go for the appraisal now."

Zhang Mingming was thinking that I am such a good person, the best friend in the whole world, and I am moved by the sky, holding the piece of paper, and left resignedly.

For an image processing expert, this job is really not a difficult job.

About two hours later, he called Ye Huairui and Ouyang Tingting to his computer.

"Let me just say the conclusion."

Zhang Mingming said:

"The paper ashes you found earlier, and the handwriting on the half page of waste paper you gave me just now, indeed came from the same typewriter."

Although Ye Huairui had a premonition, his heart still thumped violently the moment he heard the exact answer.

"Look at this, the most obvious evidence."

Zhang Mingming proficiently poked the mouse a few times on the screen, and two windows popped up, which were two capital letters "D" magnified several times.

In the left window is the initial letter of the phrase "Don't" recovered by Zhang Mingming from the ashes of the paper, while in the right window is the "D" of "Department" intercepted from the waste paper.

"After zooming in, it can be clearly seen that there is a small triangular defect in the lower left corner of the two 'D's, which are exactly the same in size and shape."

Zhang Mingming tapped the keyboard with his index finger, and the "D" in the two windows overlapped with each other, a perfect fit.

"Not only 'D', but also other letters. I can now be [-]% sure that these two documents came from the same typewriter."

In the old-fashioned mechanical keyboard typewriter, when the user hits a certain key on the keyboard, the font of the character corresponding to the key will be hit on the ribbon, and then the color on the ribbon will be transferred to the paper.

The principle is about the same as we put a piece of carbon paper in the middle of two sheets of paper. When the pen tip rolls over the carbon paper, the pressure will print the blue dye on the carbon paper to the paper below.

Each character on the typesetting is equivalent to a small seal. Even standardized products made of metal will have their own "features", such as concave and convex lines on the surface, rust and wear on the corners, and so on.

These tiny differences become the unique identity proof of a certain typewriter.

Just like every bullet fired from a gun has its own bullet mark, everything leaves a mark.

By comparing the details, the forensic doctor can know whether a certain chain was cut by a certain pair of pliers, whether a certain crowbar pried open a certain door, and whether a certain knife penetrated a certain victim.

Even the serial numbers that have been thwarted on the steel, they have a way to restore every word.

Now, Zhang Mingming said that he has sufficient evidence to prove that the words on the two documents came from the same typewriter.

Ye Huairui breathed a sigh of relief, suddenly relieved.

He knew that his guess should be right.

She Fang, the branch manager of Fushou Branch of Dah Sing Bank, is not only a victim, but also a person involved in the case.

Those ashes were found by Yin Jiaming when he sneaked into Dai Junfeng's home, the security manager, and found them in the ashtray.

Words and phrases remaining on the scraps of paper dust - "Be careful", "Don't", "Take action", "After", and, "You take 7%", and most importantly, "July 21st" These keywords are easy to think of, this is most likely a criminal plan about a big robbery.

And the typewriter that typed out the burned criminal plan also typed out She Fang's own quarterly work report, which can only show that She Fang must be related to the robbery.

"so……"

Ouyang Tingting's heart was full of premonitions that the case was about to be solved, her eyes were glowing, her cheeks were flushed, her voice trembled with excitement, "She Fang... is probably the real mastermind of the robbery?"

The girl looked at Ye Huairui, "But, since this is the case, why did the robbers break into his house, not only killed his wife and son, but also took him back to the bank?"

Ouyang Tingting gestured to shoot:

"And, in the end, the robbers beat him to death."

In fact, Ye Huairui thought about this issue when he realized that She Fang was suspicious.

"I couldn't figure it out before."

Ye Huairui pointed to the two overlapping "D" characters on the computer screen, "However, when I saw the scrapped quarterly work report just now, I had an idea..."

He turned to ask Ouyang Tingting a question:

"Why do you think She Fang used a typewriter to type out the criminal plan?"

For those who have studied forensic trace inspection, this question is too routine and untechnical, and there is a standard answer.

So Ouyang Tingting blurted out without thinking:

"Of course it's because he doesn't want to expose his handwriting!"