Julian Grant hesitated for less than a moment before giving the most standard answer: “A good person?”

　　The Vault kept her hands in her pockets, lips pressed tight, but still couldn’t help but laugh: “You could sound a bit more certain. Why did you have to add a question mark?”

　　Julian Grant said, “It’s your attitude—like you’re about to get angry—that made me add a question mark!”

　　The Vault became serious and said, “I want to hear your opinion.”

　　Julian Grant: “To be honest, I really don’t think so. The impression Sylvia Shaw gives me isn’t that of someone strong or ruthless. Most mothers couldn’t do something like forcing their own son onto a criminal path. Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

　　The Vault said, “I’ve already been mistaken many times.”

　　Julian Grant: “What?”

　　“Do you know what’s the most puzzling, the most out-of-place thing in this whole case for me?”

　　“What is it?”

　　The Vault raised her hand to press the acupoints on both sides of her head and said, “It’s as if this case was premeditated. The killer deliberately found Justin Hall, who had a deep grudge against Thomas Daniels, stole his sleeping pills, and dumped the body in the area he was responsible for cleaning. All these actions presented the police with a suspect who had the strongest motive.”

　　“And then there’s Sylvia Shaw. A suspect with the opportunity, weak psychological resilience, no professional knowledge, and who made multiple mistakes as soon as she appeared. The evidence pointing to both people is extremely rough and superficial. It’s as if a plan that was clearly well thought out was full of holes when put into action. That just doesn’t make sense, does it?”

　　Following her analysis, Julian Grant realized that was indeed the case.

　　Sylvia Shaw’s reaction was completely like a crime of passion; she couldn’t even keep her story straight when facing the police, and was easily tricked by The Vault into revealing she was lying. She even panicked and greeted the police early in the morning wearing a dress.

　　But if she was capable of setting up such a well-prepared and orderly frame-up against Justin Hall, she shouldn’t be acting like this.

　　The killer’s behavior before and after was completely inconsistent.

　　The Vault said, “I bet the road surveillance near the crime scene will clearly capture Sylvia Shaw’s car and her face, confirming she was at the scene and is the killer. Do you believe it?”

　　As soon as she finished speaking, a vacuum-like silence filled the hallway, the kind of quiet that made Julian Grant gradually feel a chill creeping over his body.

　　At that moment, his phone notification sounded.

　　In this scenario, Julian Grant had already been startled several times by these sudden phone notifications. He lowered his head and carefully read the message, and when he looked back at The Vault, there was now a glimmer of reverence in his eyes.

　　The Vault said, “Check into Xavier Daniels. Maybe we’ll find something unexpected. His eyes tell me he’s not simple at all.”

Chapter 68: Evidence

　　Julian Grant had someone pull Xavier Daniels’s personal file, including all major events that happened around him during his student years, and any students or teachers who had given him special evaluations.

　　Based on the current evidence, The Vault summoned Sylvia Shaw to the police station to assist with the investigation.

　　Xavier Daniels accompanied Sylvia Shaw, standing obediently by her side, a little shy as he asked passing officers for details, dressed in a white shirt and looking pure and harmless.

　　Sylvia Shaw was taken for questioning, while Xavier Daniels waited patiently in the lounge. Julian Grant originally wanted to approach Xavier Daniels to see if he could get anything out of him, but was stopped by a raised hand from The Vault.

　　The Vault shook her head, signaling not to approach Xavier Daniels directly, so as not to alert him. It would be better to go to Xavier Daniels’s school and ask when he returned last night. Julian Grant agreed.

　　The Vault then called over the same loud young officer from before to join her for the interrogation. The young man’s eyes lit up, and he cheerfully took off his jacket and followed along.

　　The two of them, holding the files, entered the interrogation room one after the other, closing the door behind them.

　　The crisp sound of the lock made Sylvia Shaw, who was already seated inside, look up. She glanced at the shadow cast in front of her and pointed at the light: “Sorry, could you dim it a bit? My eyes aren’t good, and it’s really uncomfortable being lit up like this.”

　　The Vault replied regretfully, “Sorry, our lights aren’t that advanced; they don’t have a dimming function.”

　　“Oh.”

　　Alone facing them, Sylvia Shaw looked very insecure, constantly shifting slightly on the bench, adjusting her posture, as if the chair was extremely uncomfortable. Even her feet seemed unsure of how to be placed.

　　“We meet again,” The Vault said. “Didn’t expect it to be so soon, did you?”

　　Sylvia Shaw asked, “Why did you call me here? Didn’t you already question me this morning?”

　　“Because we have some new questions,” The Vault said. “It’s normal. We’ve called in others too. Justin Hall was just here and just left.”

　　Hearing that name, Sylvia Shaw tensed up: “What did he say? Why did you just let him go? Isn’t he the murderer?”

　　“I can’t tell you that,” The Vault said jokingly. “But you can guess for yourself.”

　　Sylvia Shaw said in disbelief, “Huh?”

　　The Vault raised the folder, looking down as she flipped through it, speaking casually: “I have a question. How did you know who Justin Hall is?”

　　Sylvia Shaw froze, then said, “Of course I know. Isn’t he the suspect who killed my husband? Didn’t you tell me this morning?”

　　“Did I?” The Vault looked at her over the top of the file. “Last time we met, I never mentioned Justin Hall’s name in front of you. To you, he should be someone who only met your husband once, and hasn’t been in contact for twelve years. After all these years, you still remember his name?”

　　Sylvia Shaw hugged herself and said emotionlessly, “After all, there was an unpleasant car accident. He left a deep impression.”

　　“I don’t doubt you remember his face, but human memory isn’t as strong as you think,” The Vault said. “Most people can’t remember the names of most of their elementary school classmates after graduating college—and those are friends they spent six years with.”

　　Sylvia Shaw got angry: “I just remember!”

　　The Vault smiled, pulled two photos from the file, placed them side by side, and pushed them over with her finger.

　　“Not long ago, I remember you said you didn’t go out last night. Can you explain this, then?”

　　The time was marked at the top of the photos, showing it was just after eleven last night. The person in the photo was driving a white car, wearing a black baseball cap, but the cap didn’t cover her face, and the roadside surveillance camera caught her face clearly.

　　Sylvia Shaw glanced at the photo and quickly looked away. Although she tried hard to stay calm, the prominent collarbone at her neck was enough to show her nervousness.

　　“The footage was taken near the crime scene. Following this road leads directly to where Thomas Daniels died,” The Vault said mockingly. “Looks like you not only went out, but also went to ‘visit’ your husband, didn’t you?”

　　It was clear Sylvia Shaw had thought about this question; she answered quickly and enunciated clearly: “I was just passing by that place last night. After hearing you say my husband died there, I was afraid you’d suspect me, so I lied instinctively. I didn’t really think it through.”

　　The Vault: “Weren’t you and your husband on good terms? Why would you worry about being suspected?”

　　Sylvia Shaw said, “A lot of murder cases turn out to be committed by family or friends. Of course the police would start by investigating me.”

　　The young officer deliberately typed loudly on the keyboard, the clacking sounds sharp and irritable.

　　“Oh—” The Vault drew out the word and nodded. “So where exactly did you go last night?”

　　“To chat with my girlfriend.” Sylvia Shaw raised her hand to smooth the stray hair at her forehead, repeatedly tucking it behind her ear. “The recent call record on my phone hasn’t been deleted. You can call her back and ask. She can confirm when I arrived at her place. I didn’t stop anywhere on the way, I was just passing by.”

　　The Vault spread her hands: “That doesn’t prove anything. You didn’t need to stop for long—you just needed to drop your accomplice off by the roadside.”

　　“I don’t have an accomplice!” Sylvia Shaw shouted. “Why won’t you believe me? I have no reason to kill Lao Tao! I was just passing by, going to my friend’s house!”

　　The Vault raised her hand to signal her to calm down: “Enough, stop making these unreasonable excuses. Judges have a certain ability to discern evidence. Do you really think you can get away with nonsense? You’re underestimating our country’s judicial process.”

　　The young officer had been taking notes the whole time. Hearing this, he looked up and bared his teeth at the person across from him.