"Zhang Enfan, take a look at this photo."
Meng Chengbiao sat opposite Zhang Enfan, his presence domineering.
Zhang Enfan hung his head, not resisting, silent.
Resisting interrogation was also exhausting. For one thing, it was a nine-to-five job, during the legally stipulated time, the police could summon him for questioning.
Secondly, he could scorn the law and use silence to resist interrogation, but the police could talk. They could discuss policy with him, talk about the law, or they could use psychological tactics, swaying him with photos of his family, the bonds of his loved ones.
Meng Chengbiao had carefully researched Zhang Enfan's situation and knew that he did not resist examining the evidence.
One might even say Zhang Enfan was eager to actively examine the evidence.
So, taking advantage of the moment Zhang Enfan looked up, Meng Chengbiao placed a photo of Jiao Lina in front of Zhang Enfan.