Chapter 617
Chapter 617:
Abrial moved swiftly, stepping in front of Ashton to defend him. “Officer, are you sure about this? I was with Ashton last night when we met Craig. We left together, and Craig was still shouting curses as we walked away. There’s no way Ashton could have done this.”
Ashton’s heart clenched. The finger had been pointed at him, and with Abrial now defending him, there was a chance that she, too, could become a suspect—a prospect that would spell disaster.
But Zane’s gaze never wavered, still locked onto Ashton with a sneer twisting his lips. “Oh, is that so? Did Ashton perhaps slip away while you weren’t looking, quietly returning to commit the crime? You’re nothing but his alibi.”
Ashton’s brow furrowed, a sense of unease washing over him. Before he could find his voice, Zane spoke again, his tone dripping with arrogance. “Didn’t you question my methods before, Ashton? Well, today, I’ll follow your suggested procedures. If you want evidence, I’ll give you something far more concrete. We’ll rely on scientific crime investigation to dig up the truth.”
With that, Zane produced a freshly printed fingerprint report and held it up for all to see. “This report shows we found fingerprints at the crime scene. And according to the findings, the only prints on the victim’s body were Ashton’s and the victim’s own. Does this count as enough evidence to convict you?”
Ashton’s eyes narrowed, a smile creeping across his face. “So, what you’re implying is that the murderer couldn’t have worn gloves? How is it that you, a leader of the criminal investigation team, don’t understand such a basic concept of crime scene …
“Investigation? It’s absurd. Yet here you are, flaunting this ‘scientific crime investigation.’ How laughable.”
Abrial, standing beside Ashton, added with a hint of sarcasm, “Exactly! You’re trying to pin this on Ashton with nothing but this? Seems to me like you’ve got a personal vendetta against him.”
gⲁ𝗅𝓝𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀.𝗰0𝗺´ 𝘾𝒽𝓮𝒸𝓀 𝒶𝓾𝓉𝒽 𝓬𝓸𝓹𝓎
Zane’s expression darkened, his anger rising. “A vendetta? So now you think I’m the killer? Even if the murderer wore gloves, the fact remains that Ashton’s fingerprints are on the victim. That makes him the prime suspect.”
His eyes cold, Zane snapped, “Ashton, you’re coming with us for questioning. Resist arrest, and don’t blame me if things get ugly.”
Ashton’s eyes turned as cold as steel, his sneer a perfect reflection of the contempt he felt. “Funny, you seem awfully eager. Almost as if you’ve been waiting for this moment.”
Zane didn’t flinch. Instead, he smiled smugly, the satisfaction clear on his face. “So what if I have? You’ve only got yourself to blame for your arrogance. Don’t think that just because you’re involved with the director’s daughter, you can run wild in Staville. There are plenty of ways to deal with someone like you.”
With that, Zane had no intention of wasting any more breath on empty words. He turned sharply to his subordinates and barked, “What are you standing around for? Handcuff him and take him in for questioning. And if he dares to resist, I have the authority to shoot him on the spot.”
As the police officers moved in, step by step, their intent clear—to arrest him—Ashton scanned the area around the crime scene, his mind whirling.
.
.
.