Sun Zhihao took a quick glance, turned his head and looked at Xiao Li, frowning again and asking: "Have you found any clues? Where is my wife now?"
Xiao Li saw Su Qiao had already entered the bathroom and shook his head: "Not yet, but we have some doubts, so we want to ask you again."
Hearing that there was still no news, Sun Zhihao couldn't hold back his temper and raised his voice: "Haven't I already made it very clear? Why are you still asking? I just want to find my wife as soon as possible."
Xiao Li frowned slightly, but still explained in a very good-tempered manner: "Mr. Sun, we also want to find your wife as soon as possible, but..."
"No buts." Sun Zhihao waved his hand impatiently and interrupted Xiao Li.
"Just go find someone for me. I don't want to waste time with you now, because every extra minute I waste may put my wife in danger."
Su Qiao came out of the bathroom and just heard these words, and immediately narrowed his eyes.
He quickly glanced at the decoration and furnishings in the living room and walked over nonchalantly: "Mr. Sun, actually we came here today because we found a female corpse in the suburbs, but..."
Su Qiao stopped talking midway and sat down gracefully next to Xiao Li.
When Sun Zhihao heard about the female corpse, he was stunned for a moment, then he pulled his collar and asked anxiously, "Just what?"
Su Qiao's eyes passed over his hand that was pulling at his collar, and then he continued, "It was a headless female corpse, and the body was destroyed with sulfuric acid, so it was difficult to identify."
"On top of that, we found some paints and chemical dehumidifying powder on it, which I understand is sometimes used in galleries."
The voice became even higher in pitch, sounding very strong.
Sun Zhihao's pupils shrank, and his voice instantly rose several degrees. He stood up and said angrily and forcefully: "Are you kidding me?"
"My wife committed suicide by jumping into the sea, she wasn't murdered, why are you talking to me about this nonsense?"
"Is this how you police officers handle cases? Instead of looking for someone properly, you're wasting your time here with me. Are you still police officers?"
Su Qiao looked at him calmly: "Mr. Sun, why are you so nervous?"
When he heard that a body had been found and that there was paint on the body, his voice became even louder. He kept questioning loudly and tugging at the collar, and it seemed that he was nervous.
When people lie, their blood pressure unconsciously increases, they sweat, and they feel an itchy sensation in sensitive areas such as the face and neck. They subconsciously try to eliminate this discomfort by rubbing and scratching.
Of course, this can also happen when one is angry or frustrated, so Su Qiao asks directly, getting to the heart of the matter, in preparation for testing him again.
Sun Zhihao's face suddenly turned gloomy: "Why am I nervous? How am I nervous?"
"I am angry. I am angry with you. Don't you understand? If you continue like this, I will file a complaint against you."
Su Qiao narrowed his eyes.
Sun Zhihao is a painter. Although his family runs a cultural art company and a gallery, he is a painter and he paints enthusiastically. He should be sensitive when he hears the words "painting pigments".
However, he avoided the question and did not talk about the pigment at all.