Life in North America, you call this an autopsy officer?!
Chapter 322 - 209: Various Weapons in Prison, Case Closed Instantly_2

Chapter 322: Chapter 209: Various Weapons in Prison, Case Closed Instantly_2

This was abnormal.

Prison guards held significant authority within the prison.

Normally, upon discovering a deceased prisoner, their first reaction would be to lay the body on the ground, examine the injuries, and conduct an investigation themselves, instead of doing nothing.

Unless...

At this thought, Brian looked toward Susan, "Team leader, weren’t you curious why the guy with the small glasses seemed so resistant to touching this case?"

Susan, bored, glanced around and nodded, "Yes, but those who could speak are already lying on the ground; no one can answer us."

"No, no, no." Brian waved his finger:

"The scene has already told us the answer.

This is a typical two-person cell, which means the deceased’s status was just so-so, but the entire cell shows signs of only one person living here; this means the deceased’s identity was somewhat special.

He was a member of the Aryan Brotherhood. Since he wasn’t the leader, he was probably a notable enforcer or someone in charge of business within the prison gang."

"Can you even conduct business inside a prison?" Susan asked curiously.

She didn’t know much about prisons.

Brian nodded:

"Of course, the prison guards need to make money to support their families, and the prisoners also hope to live better lives.

Where there’s demand, there’s trade.

Cigarettes, bagged beer, radios, televisions, better single cells, mobile phones, even women—if you have the money, all these can be arranged.

That guy with the small glasses must be something like the Prison Director’s assistant; people like him know more about prisons and wouldn’t show much resistance over the death of a gang enforcer.

Moreover, the death of this person made the prison wary of the Aryan Brotherhood, so they specifically requested assistance from our Los Angeles area... The answer is already out.

This seemingly strong deceased was likely a member of the Aryan Brotherhood responsible for contraband sales in this prison—not the leader, but his position was very important.

Because this relates to the living standards of the Brotherhood’s members in prison, as well as their market share.

Prisoners aren’t exactly loyal customers.

If you have stuff, you’re God; if you don’t, you’re dogshit—they’ll turn to other channels immediately to buy what they need."

Susan: "..Ah.."

She opened her mouth, said nothing, feeling merely that Brian’s long explanation seemed very learned, broad in knowledge, very intellectual.

Well.. Seeing Susan’s reaction, Brian realized she was struggling with logical thinking—a clear case of her single-threaded mind freezing up.

He didn’t bother talking further, handed a camera to Susan, put on gloves himself, and stepped forward to begin examining the body.

..

The body’s head had been thrust into the toilet, with half of the brain submerged and soaked.

The toilet contained something white and mushy—perhaps overly soaked toilet paper, but it looked sticky, like rice porridge.

The deceased’s head was covered in this substance.

Brian’s nose twitched twice, his eyes showing confusion.

Even without "enhanced sense of smell," he could smell a faint scent of chemical adhesive.

He noted this in mind.

Brian carefully laid the body onto the ground.

No apparent wounds were found on the deceased’s back or limbs, until the body was laid flat in the cell’s open space, and a wound on the left chest came into view for both.

Susan aimed the camera and shot.

Seeing the wound, she confidently said, "This is a knife wound."

The deceased had a stab wound two fingers wide on his left chest, penetrating his prison uniform and staining the area orange-red.

The bloodstains on the ground must also have flowed from here.

Brian didn’t respond; he first probed the wound with his fingers to check its depth and then examined the condition around the wound on the prison uniform before nodding, "It’s indeed a knife wound, but not from a normal knife—it was made from a paper dagger; this is a case of suicide."

Susan: "What?"

She said blankly, "Toilet paper can be made into a dagger and then stab through fabric prison clothes to pierce the heart?"

If it weren’t Brian speaking, she would have doubted that he was joking with her.

Brian pointed to the white rice paste inside the toilet:

"The prison is full of talent, they are very skilled at crafting various weapons.

The most common is a toothbrush.

Sharpen the bottom of a toothbrush, and it becomes a spike, easily penetrating the human body.

By reacting the bristle part of the toothbrush with paper and laundry detergent, it burns and melts, then insert a piece of iron, the melted plastic and spines bind to the iron. After grinding, it turns into a small throat-slitting knife.

Right, they can also make incendiary bottles.

These are also one of the main protagonists in every prison riot, and the making process is simple: just throw some fruits into a bottle, wait for them to rot and produce gas, stuff it with a cloth, and an easy incendiary bomb is made.

I remember someone in prison used the steel pipe of an iron bed to make a simple air-compressed shotgun, which not only blasted the lock of the cell but also kidnapped a prison guard and escaped.

These are all weapons."

"That toilet paper..."

Susan just couldn’t fathom how soft toilet paper could be crafted into a knife, piercing through human flesh and clothing.

"This is the power of knowledge."

Brian explained:

"The nature of an object, after accumulating to a certain extent, undergoes a qualitative change.

Similar to water guns and high-pressure water jets.

An ordinary water gun shooting on you, you might not even feel it, but a high-pressure water gun is a very powerful industrial cutting tool, capable of cutting through steel with its water stream.

The same applies to toilet paper.

If you wet it with water, then compress it continuously with something like a wood plank, sculpting it into the shape of a knife, layer by layer, adding some homemade adhesive,

after dozens or hundreds of repetitions, you can obtain a paper dagger.

This thing, if honed, becomes a lethal weapon and can get past various security checks in the prison, being small and concealed, and both toilet paper and adhesive are easy to obtain.

The only downside is that after being used once, it needs to be repaired if it contacts blood, so not many prisoners are willing to spend the effort to craft such a gadget.

They prefer simpler methods, such as stealing a couple of metal trays from the cafeteria, breaking them into many small triangular metal pieces, wrapping them with fabric, which equals many weapons as potent as real daggers."

Brian narrated in detail, and this time Susan finally understood.

She pondered, "So you suspect that the deceased made a paper dagger, knelt in front of the toilet, and stabbed himself through the heart, then dissolved the paper dagger in the toilet?"

"It’s not suspicion, it’s a certainty."

Brian pointed to the corridor outside: "There’s surveillance here, iron bars, the door locks are both electronic and physical, and right across there is a cell that directly oversees this side. The surrounding cells are separated only by a non-soundproof concrete wall. It’s impossible for an unknown killer, or even a prison guard, without alerting anyone, to evade surveillance, open the door, and kill such a strong prisoner in front of the toilet. The only reason is suicide."

"Then why would he commit suicide and then destroy the weapon, staging it to look like a homicide?"

Susan had new doubts.

Brian shrugged, "The prison only requested us to investigate the situation of the case, not to research the background of the deceased. Knowing that it was a suicide is enough, the rest is up to them to handle."

He actually wanted to use this opportunity to connect with people from the Aryan Brotherhood, but whether it would succeed was up to fate.

Brian wasn’t insistent.

..

At this moment, Shi San, who had been sniffing around since entering, seemed to have locked onto a target and called out toward the wall of the crime scene cell.

This wall, located behind the toilet, connects to an area outside the detention zone.

Because Susan was present, Shi San’s call was in Morse Code frequency.

Translated, it meant: Item.

Something was hidden in the wall.

Brian stepped forward and touched the wall but found nothing unusual.

It was just an ordinary concrete wall connected to another area.

But the guide with small glasses didn’t introduce it, and they were also unclear about what was beyond that point.

"Shi San’s nose is very keen, ask the prison staff to come and tear down the wall."

Brian said to Susan.

Susan nodded and pulled out her phone.

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