Watching Zhang Shuya lead the team into the back house, Wang An didn't make a move. Mainly, he had been scared half to death by that tiger skin.
To say Wang An was terrified wasn't because he was a coward, but because that old rascal Song Ping had draped the entire tiger skin over a thick log, with the tiger's head facing directly toward the doorway.
As everyone knows, the back houses in the countryside—the storehouses—usually only have one small window for ventilation, so the lighting inside is very dim.
Consequently, when Wang An first opened the door and glanced inside, it was difficult to immediately determine whether it was a tiger skin or a living tiger.
The main point was that Wang An had actually looked a tiger in the eye before, and had been swiped by one, leaving him with injuries that took over half a year to heal.
Therefore, seeing a tiger-shaped skin so unexpectedly, it would be strange if he weren't startled.
To be honest, it was only because Wang An had great skill and courage—and more importantly, because he had killed the tiger that injured him—that he reacted this way; otherwise, anyone else would have pissed themselves.
Wang An pulled out a cigarette and lit it. After a few puffs, the nicotine helped his racing heart slow down.
After Zhang Shuya and the others entered the storehouse, they quickly brought the entire tiger skin out.
The skin wasn't particularly large, roughly half the size of the tiger Wang An had killed. This meant that in life, this tiger had likely been a sub-adult Siberian tiger.
Furthermore, the skin wasn't completely dry, indicating that the tiger hadn't been killed long ago—no more than a month at most.
Regardless, this tiger skin was incredibly valuable. As long as a suitable buyer was found, it would be worth at least 30,000 yuan.
Yes, over 30,000—and that was 30,000 in the 1980s.
However, a tiger skin of such immense value had become the ironclad evidence of Song Ping and his associates' crimes.
If the investigation continued based on the clues from this skin, it would likely drag in the poachers who killed the Siberian tiger.
It had to be said that Song Ping's nerves were truly made of steel to dare collect something as dangerous as a tiger skin.
One must realize that even someone as audacious and well-connected as Wang An could only cut his tiger skin into small pieces and wrap them in cloth; he didn't dare store it whole.
Yet Song Ping, on the other hand, not only dared to buy the thing but dared to leave it out in the storehouse to air-dry so brazenly, as if he weren't afraid of anyone seeing it at all.
Impressive, absolutely fucking impressive!
As the tiger skin was brought out, other pelts were brought out of the storehouse one after another.
Meanwhile, the people searching the main house also made discoveries—precious items such as bear gall, musk, sable skins, and lynx skins.
With the collaboration of over thirty people, the search was quickly completed.
Looking at the massive pile of items in the courtyard, everyone felt a sense of shock.
It had to be admitted that the old rascal Song Ping had collected quite a few high-quality goods.
Aside from the tiger skin, the most valuable items included 3 lynx skins, 8 sable skins, 6 bear galls, and 2 musk pods.
As for weasel skins, squirrel skins, marten skins, and fox skins, there were several bundles of them.
However, the item Wang An cared about most—the arsenic—was not found in Song Ping's home, which was quite frustrating for him.
A preliminary estimate put the value of these items at over 30,000 yuan, and that was not including the tiger skin.
It was foreseeable that Song Ping was finished; his life was effectively over.
Because even without the poisoning incident, the monetary value of the goods and the existence of the tiger skin were enough to put Song Ping away for twenty or thirty years; it wasn't even impossible that he might face the firing squad.
There was no helping it; the laws at this time were still very strict.
After laying everything out in the middle of the courtyard for public display, the group worked together to count all the items and create a detailed list.
The captain of the Sixth Team had Song Ping's wife sign for confirmation, then tore off the carbon copy of the list and gave it to her for her own records.
Song Ping's wife gripped the paper tightly, her face a mixture of heartache and agony as she watched the pelts and other goods being loaded onto the truck. From start to finish, she didn't say another useless word.
She knew very well that it was already a great mercy that she hadn't been arrested as an accomplice.
If she dared to obstruct them in any way, she would at the very least be charged with obstructing official business. If she had been involved in the purchase of the tiger skin, she would also have to spend a few years inside.
Once all the seized contraband was loaded onto the truck, Wang An and the others drove away from Anfu Village without a hint of lingering regret.
Only after Wang An and the others had left did Song Ping's wife finally break down and cry.
Having the man of the house arrested and the valuables confiscated was a massive blow to anyone.
But the facts were the facts, and the situation was the situation. No matter what she said, it was useless; she could only endure it.
After leaving Anfu Village, Wang An and Huang Zhong did not go home, but instead followed the convoy back to the county seat.
Mainly, Wang An's biggest concern—who the poisoner actually was—had not yet been cleared up.
Until this matter was resolved, Wang An couldn't even sleep soundly.
Upon returning to the Public Security Bureau, with Zhang Shuya's consent, Wang An and two interrogators took charge of Song Ping's interrogation.
Once inside the interrogation room, Song Ping likely realized that further concealment was meaningless and that cooperating might earn him a more lenient sentence.
Thus, before the three of them could even begin questioning, Song Ping spilled everything like beans pouring out of a bamboo tube, confessing all the details regarding the buying and selling of pelts and mountain goods.
According to Song Ping, the pelts, bear gall, and musk were all collected while he traveled from village to village. He provided the names and addresses of many hunters.
However, the Public Security Bureau certainly wouldn't pursue the hunters who sold things to Song Ping.
The primary reason was that there were too many of them. Furthermore, these hunters hadn't engaged in resale for profit; they were simply selling the proceeds of their labor.
Crucially, the markets had already been open for several years, so it was understandable that the hunters would choose to sell their goods for a high price.
As for the source of the tiger skin, Song Ping provided a detailed explanation.
Song Ping claimed he had paid 1,000 yuan to buy it from an old mountain dweller. However, from the flickering of Song Ping's eyes, Wang An determined that Song Ping was still hiding something—something very unfavorable to him.
After questioning Song Ping several times, only for him to beat around the bush, Wang An, under the gaze of the two interrogators, cheerfully gave Song Ping a "memory recovery massage" that he would never forget for the rest of his life.