Profiler (Fang Mu Eastern Crimes Series Book 1) (5 page)

At that moment the sky suddenly darkened, and big black clouds like blocks of lead rolled in from the horizon, layer upon layer of them, and the faint rumble of thunder could be heard.

It was a newly-built road heading towards the outskirts of the city. Both sides were lined with little fruit stands and low, flat-roofed homes. There were very few pedestrians.

The wind grew stronger and stronger, battering the jeep windshield with sand and stones from the road. Everyone left outside was rushing for shelter, by bike or on foot. A big storm was about to arrive.

The men in the jeep pressed against the windows, closely scanning their surroundings. Tai Wei's palms were slick with sweat; several times they nearly slipped off the steering wheel. Frequently he would glance at his watch. Three hours had already passed since the crime was committed. It begged the question: could the child still be alive?

Tai Wei hadn't noticed that Fang Mu's face was growing increasingly somber.

Minutes later, huge raindrops finally began to fall, and at once countless little potholes opened in the road, spewing white dust. The scene outside the window became a blur. By then no one was even looking anymore; visibility was too low to make out a thing.

No one said a word as the jeep flew down the endless road, the sky so low it seemed about ready to collapse. Angry bolts of lightning frequently tore across the lead-black heavens, and after each dazzling flash, there followed a blast like something had been ripped apart.

"Stop the car!" Fang Mu suddenly yelled.

Tai Wei slammed on the brakes, causing the jeep to slide shakily across the surface of the road. Finally it came to a stop.

Before the jeep had even stopped swaying, Fang Mu had jumped outside and was running back the way they'd come.

The remnants of an old, seemingly long-abandoned factory stood beside the road, its crumbling walls covered in broken tile. Perhaps many people once worked there to the roar of machinery, but now everything was swallowed by waist-high weeds.

Fang Mu's whole body was soon drenched from the heavy rain as he walked to where the drops pattered against the tall grass. He was trembling.

Holding his coat overhead, Tai Wei ran to catch up with Fang Mu. But before he could say anything, he heard Fang Mu call out through clenched teeth: "Here. Search over here!"

Without hesitation, everyone immediately split up and began scouring the thick weeds.

Minutes later, one of the men searching to the west cried out in surprise. Then he yelled, "Over here!"

Everyone looked up. Simultaneously, several pairs of eyes swung in his direction.

He knew what this meant. Swallowing, he spoke with difficulty

"We're too late."

It was a little girl. Her corpse had been stuffed into a cement pipe, her chest and abdomen torn open. An empty bottle of mineral water lay beside the body. Inside were traces of a thick, sticky, red-colored substance. It looked like blood. A large, yellow-checkered cloth duffel bag was soon discovered in the grass nearby, as was a sharp, wood-handled knife.

Telling his men to seal the area, Tai Wei radioed headquarters for backup. By the time everything was set, he felt profoundly exhausted. Opening his jeep door, he saw Fang Mu sitting in the passenger seat. He was soaked from head to toe, water dripping from his hair. His eyes were fixed on the rain-blurred windshield in front of him, the cigarette in his hands burned to a stub.

Tai Wei didn't say a word. Even though he had a bellyful of questions to ask Fang Mu, he just lit a cigarette and slowly organized his thoughts.

"Male," said Fang Mu suddenly, his voice hoarse. "Under thirty, very thin, slovenly, lives nearby. His parents probably worked for a state-owned company, but now they're either dead or don't live with him. He has a serious psychological disorder. For him, blood possesses an extremely special significance."

He took a ferocious puff from his cigarette and then rolled down the window and threw it outside.

"I have two recommendations: First, search the entire city for people who have sought hospital treatment for blood diseases in the past five years. Then within this group, look for someone with the characteristics I just mentioned. Second, search hospital records citywide for people who have received blood transfusions in the past three years, especially those who didn't need it but demanded the transfusion anyway."

Tai Wei jotted this down in his notebook. Then after thinking for a moment, he carefully asked, "How did you know there was a second victim?"

"The button. The woman at the crime scene was around thirty-year-old; she'd never wear a button with a cartoon character printed on it. Also, I couldn't find any clothing that matched the button at the scene."

"That button could easily have been dropped by a previous tenant."

"Impossible," replied Fang Mu, gazing out the window. "There wasn't a speck of dust on it. Not to mention that the victim had just moved in, hadn't even opened her bags, and yet somehow there was a pile of clothes on the floor and no bag to go with them. The kitchen was also missing a knife—most likely the one used by the killer. And even though the victim was cut open, nothing at the crime scene indicated that the killer drank her blood. This showed that he must have found an even more attractive blood source—a second victim—whom he stuffed into a duffel bag and brought with him." He turned toward Tai Wei. "Younger blood." He paused. "What do you think that means?"

Tai Wei was taken aback by the question. "I—I don't know."

Fang Mu did not seem to expect an answer. Lost in thought, he turned to stare at the darkening sky.

Tai Wei thought for a moment before speaking again. "In that case, how'd you know the killer murdered the child here?"

Fang Mu did not immediately reply. At last, word by word, he said, "For him, this was the most suitable place."

CHAPTER
5
Therapy

O
ne week earlier.

It was lunch break and the library corridors were very quiet. A young student carefully ascended the stairs, hand on the railing. He made an effort to calm his breathing.

The corridor appeared endless. The student adjusted his backpack, and then with what seemed a sense of determination, walked quickly over to one of the doors. He glanced both ways. No one was there. He looked up at the placard above the door:

Psychological Consultation Room.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

In the vast, empty corridor, the sound was extremely jarring, and the student couldn't help but shiver. There was no response. He knocked twice more—still nothing. He placed his ear to the door; inside was absolutely silent. The student let out a deep breath, his expression somewhere between relief and disappointment. When he turned to go, the door across the hall suddenly opened and a man stuck his head out.

"Who are you looking for?"

The student was clearly startled. He pointed at the tightly locked door behind him, but couldn't manage a word.

The man walked over and looked at the door. "Looking for Professor Qiao? He's not here." He looked at the student. "Was there something you wanted to discuss with him?"

"N-no."

The man smiled.

"When you have problems you should say them out loud. Keeping them trapped inside will make you sick."

The student looked up at him. His hair was neatly parted and his eyes were kind and friendly. When he smiled, the corners of his mouth curled slightly upwards, showing his glistening white teeth.

"I—I sometimes feel afraid."

The man laughed softly. "Everyone feels afraid sometimes. Can you tell me what it is you're afraid of?"

The student looked down, his jaw clenched.

He clearly did not want to speak, and was not about to force himself.

"You can conquer this sort of feeling," said the man. He lightly placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. "For example, imagine every dangerous scenario possible, starting with the worst. Do this over and over, and you'll gradually feel at ease in any situation, and will no longer be afraid of what you once feared."

As the student looked up, the man gave him a friendly wink, as if to say,
Trust me
.

Suddenly the sound of the class bell rang out in the corridor. Startling in surprise, the student said a hurried word of thanks, turned and left.

The case analysis meeting, led by the Director of the Public Security Bureau, had just concluded. At it, Tai Wei had given a detailed report on the state of their preliminary investigations into the most recent forced entry-and-murder case.

In total there were two dead. The first was Yao Xiaoyang, female, 32-year-old, divorced, a teacher at Jiangbin City Teacher's College. When the crime was committed two days prior, she had only recently rented
Apartment
401
in Unit 2, Building 3 of the Bright Gardens Residential Area. Based on the state of the crime scene, it seemed that Yao Xiaoyang had just moved in on the day of the murder and was in the process of unpacking her things when she was attacked. Because the lock on her door showed no signs of tampering, the special investigation team briefly considered whether the perpetrator was friendly with the victim. However, a comparison of the fingerprints found at the scene with those of the victim's closest friends eliminated this possibility.

Preliminary analysis: After entering the apartment, the killer struggled with Yao Xiaoyang, finally using a nylon cord left on the living room table (likely used by the victim to tie up her belongings) to strangle her to death. Afterwards, the killer sliced open the victim's chest and abdomen with a knife from the kitchen, his method fundamentally the same as those of the previous murders. What was different, however, was that this time the killer did not drink the victim's blood. The reason for this, police believed, was that it was at this point that the killer discovered the second victim.

The second victim was a six-year-old girl named Tong Hui. She lived next door with her family in
Apartment
402
. On the day of the crime, Tong Hui's mother and father were at work in the factory, leaving only Yu Huifen, her 70-year-old maternal grandmother, to look after her. According to Yu Huifen, she and Tong Hui had just laid down for an after-lunch nap when, half-asleep, she realized that the girl had jumped out of bed to go play. "Don't go too far," she had said before falling back asleep. Only when the police began examining the crime scene next door did she wake up. It was then that she realized Tong Hui was gone. As for any sounds of movement she might have heard from
Apartment
401
earlier that day, the elderly Mrs. Yu had no idea.

The police deduced that Tong Hui had most likely run into the killer while either heading out to play or returning home, and that he immediately changed his plans and decided to drink her blood instead of Yao's. Based on the state of the first crime scene (Apartment 401 of Unit 2, Building 3 in Bright Gardens), the second crime scene (the old site of
the original DaMing Fiberglass Factory
), and an examination of the victim's corpse, the killer probably strangled her with a rope until she was comatose, tied her up (at which point a button on her dress fell off and landed in the doorway), returned to the bedroom and emptied a duffel bag (large with yellow check), then stuffed her inside and carried her away from the scene. Then the killer traveled roughly 40 minutes southeast on foot before coming across the abandoned Yuanda Ming factory on the side of the road. There he killed Tong Hui, cut open her chest and abdomen, and drank approximately seven ounces of her blood.

Interviews with those living nearby turned up nothing of value, because when the crime was committed, the vast majority of
Bright
Garden
residents were at work in the factory; so even though the killer openly kidnapped Tong Hui in the middle of the day, not a single person noticed. However, an interview on the road between the first and second crime scenes provided an important clue. According to the proprietor of a small
Hongyuan Road
food stand (located a mile and a half from the second crime scene), he had sold a bottle of mineral water to a familiar-sounding man on the day of the crime. The man had been about 5' 7", very thin, with long, greasy hair, with nervous, bloodshot eyes, and a swath of blisters around the corners of his mouth. He was carrying a large, cloth duffel bag. When the proprietor asked him what was inside, the man responded that it was a dog. Based on the proprietor's description, the police had already made a sketch of the man and begun circulating it with orders for his arrest.

After the meeting ended, Tai Wei was about to leave when the director called after him. "Wait a moment, Little Tai."

The director was a very fat man, and he strained as he changed position in his leather swivel chair. Seeing that Tai Wei was still standing up, he waved for him to have a seat. Then, rotating a tea cup in his hand, the director paused to think for a moment before saying, "From what I've heard, you've been having a
Jiangbin
City
University
student help crack the case."

"That's correct. Ding Shucheng of the Changhong City PSB recommended him. He's supposed to be quite gifted."

"And as for your opinion?"

Tai Wei considered his words carefully. "This person is rather interesting. It was under his guidance that we discovered the second victim. Also, his description of the suspect was essentially identical to the one given by the food stand proprietor. He said he would contact me in the next few days. I'm looking forward to hearing his opinion on the case."

"No!" The director held up his index finger and waved it back and forth. His tone was firm. "You will not allow this so-called genius to participate any further. And not just on this case—I do not want to see you using any such methods again."

"Why?" Tai Wei was stunned.

"Have we not suffered enough for that incident already?" The director was nearly shouting. His face was contorted with urgency.

Now Tai Wei was even more at a loss. He stared blankly at the director.

Suddenly the director clapped his hand to his forehead, as if something had just occurred to him. "How long ago were you transferred here?" he asked.

"Four years."

"No wonder." The director's face relaxed slightly. "You can't be blamed for not knowing. Still, you must remember what I told you. That's an order." Saying this, he waved Tai Wei out of the room.

Baffled, Tai Wei returned to his office. He was about to go ask a senior colleague what the director was talking about when his phone rang. It was Fang Mu.

The heavy rain on the night of the murder had caused Fang Mu to catch a bad cold, and the next day he lay in bed from morning 'til night. Once his spirits had lifted a bit, he climbed to his feet and went to the library.

From the materials he had seen during his initial meeting with Tai Wei, as well as his first-hand experience at the most recent crime scenes, Fang Mu had already begun forming some ideas about these murder-and-bloodsucking cases. If most serial killers left a
symbol
at the scene of their crimes, then what was the symbol of the bloodsucker?

Well, that was obvious. The reason he was even called the bloodsucker was because his symbolic behavior was to cut open his victims after he killed them and drink their blood. Clearly, this excessive damage to the corpse was not done to vent anger or conceal the victim's identity—it came from a special need.

So then, what was this need?

Drinking the blood of the victim could be understood as a kind of "supplement" to the killer's own blood, suggesting that he was regularly filled with fear and anxiety that his was somehow lacking. While the source of this belief was currently unknown, it was certain that the killer's agitation had already reached very serious levels—otherwise he would never have resorted to murdering people and drinking their blood to ease his worries. 

The circumstances of the murders bore out this verdict.

The first victim was killed right after she got off the night shift. Her key was still in the door when police arrived at the scene. The killer probably followed her into the building corridor, and then as she opened the door, he seized the opportunity to strike, shoving her inside and strangling her to death. Afterwards, he cut her open, mixed her blood with milk and drank it down.

The second victim was a female doctoral student. On the day of the murder she should have been in class. While taking out the trash, her neighbor noticed that her door was open. She had been killed in the living room, the weapon a flower vase taken from atop the shoe cabinet.

The third victim was a merchant just returned from the morning market after finishing her sales early. She was killed in her own home, a flat-roofed, one-story house. Grabbing her hair, the killer had slammed her head into the kitchen stove and then strangled her to death with a lamp cord. Finally, he mixed her blood with some soybean milk she hadn't sold at market and drank it. 

The fourth victim was a divorced female teacher who had just moved into an apartment. The killer strangled her to death with the cord she had used to tie her belongings. Just as he was preparing to drink the victim's blood, he happened to spot a little girl out in the hallway. As a result, she was killed as well.

Without this symbolic
bloodsucking
behavior, it would be very difficult to imagine these four cases as having been committed by the same person. The age and social status of the victims were all different, the crimes were committed in large buildings and one-story homes, and the causes of death included strangulation by rope, by hand, and being bludgeoned with a flower vase. However, the victims themselves were all cut open in the same way: with a sharp object that the killer had found at the scene and then casually left behind. He also seemed to have paid almost no mind to getting rid of the evidence. His fingerprints covered every crime scene, and when he left, he did not even close the door.

Regarding crimes like these, Fang Mu could think of only one thing: total chaos.

The attacker did not carefully choose his victims. He did not bring the murder weapon with him, and he did not even clean up the crime scene once it was over.