"Zhou Dequan, have you thought it over carefully?"
Bai Muchuan's voice sounded very calm.
Yesterday night, they already "crossed swords" once with Zhou Dequan at the detention center. They had a certain degree of understanding of each other psychologically.
Zhou Dequan gave a snort. "Think over what?"
Bai Muchuan said coldly, "Still unwilling to talk?"
"Talk about what?" Zhou Dequan insisted, "It's just me and my wife having a fight at home, is there a need for such treatment? Detective comrade, is it because the crime rate is too low in our city that the police have nothing better to do?"
It was evident that he refused to talk.
Bai Muchuan looked at him unhurriedly. "You don't want to talk, right? Fine, think about it a little more and let me know when you figured it out."
There was an iron railing between the detectives and the suspect in the interrogation room.