Profiler (Fang Mu Eastern Crimes Series Book 1) (53 page)

"Your methods?" Zhao Yonggui said, breaking in. "Still those same old tricks? Baseless criminal profiles?" He lifted up
Legends of the Hulan River
with his thumb and forefinger like it was a dirty object. "This is what you're relying on? You think you can catch a killer by reading a novel?"

Fang Mu snatched the book back from him and slammed it onto the table. "Whether or not you believe me, the clue to the seventh crime is in here!"

"There's a serial killer in
Legends of the Hulan River
? Ha!" Zhao Yonggui leaned back and laughed loudly at him. His laugh was almost immediately cut short, as if he had suddenly realized something. A slight change of visage came over him.

Fang Mu no longer wanted to say anything else to him. If he did, he was afraid that he'd curse him out. He stuck his pen in his pocket and put the book beneath his armpit, and then grabbed his tray and started to leave. Before he could take two steps, Zhao Yonggui snatched his arm and pulled him back.

"Get the hell off of me!" he yelled at the officer, no longer able to control himself.

But just as the words left his mouth, he was shocked to discover that Zhao Yonggui now seemed a completely different person than he had been only moments before. He was frowning deeply, a look of astonishment on his face, as if he was thinking about something that he didn't dare believe.

"Sit!" He pointed at the chair opposite, his tone of voice making it clear that Fang Mu had no choice in the matter. At the same time, he pulled
Legends of the Hulan River
from Fang Mu's arm and began scrutinizing it.

Fang Mu sat down.

"
Hulan
River
…
Hulan
River
…" Zhao Yonggui muttered himself, his frown deepening. "Just now you said this book had something to do with a serial killer?"

Puzzled by the officer's behavior, Fang Mu couldn't help but nod.

For several seconds Zhao Yonggui appeared lost in thought. Then with what seemed a great deal of determination, he looked up and asked, "Have you ever heard of the Great Knight of Hulan?"

"The Great Knight of Hulan? Never heard of him. Why?" Fang Mu asked impatiently. "Who was he?"

"This was back in the eighties, in
Hulan County
,
Heilongjiang
. He was a fierce bandit who committed a number of terrible murder cases."

"Then why do I feel like I've never heard of him before?"

"Of course you've never heard of him, because at the time they were never able to crack the case, so they sealed away all information about it. Only us old-timers know about this one."

"So what kind of crimes did the Great Knight of Hulan commit exactly? And why is he called the
great knight
?"

"Great Knight? That was just the title he gave himself," Zhao Yonggui said. "The guy was a savage criminal, nothing at all like a great knight. Because he was dissatisfied with the social system that was in place back then, he shot a number of people to death. There was also a common characteristic to many of his crimes: he made a point of specifically attacking the police…"

Before Zhao Yonggui had even finished speaking, he saw Fang Mu begin frantically searching his pockets. Not finding what he needed, Fang Mu's hand shot out to the officer.

"Your cell phone, now!"

Startled, Zhao Yonggui unconsciously pulled out his phone.

Fang Mu practically tore it out of his hands, and then punched in a number as fast as he could.

Several seconds later, a faint voice from the phone relayed: "The phone you are dialing is powered off."

Swearing under his breath, Fang Mu redialed the number. He got the same message. He tossed the phone back to Zhao Yonggui. "We need to go find Tai Wei now!"

He leapt to his feet and ran out of the dining hall.

Fang Mu ran as fast as he could to the northeastern end of campus.

He needed to find Tai Wei immediately.

The next victim was none other than
him
!

It had been nearly two days since Tai Wei had last come to see him. That wasn't like him. Having focused all his energy on decoding
Legends of the Hulan River
, Fang Mu hadn't even realized what was happening.

And the fact that Tai Wei's phone had been off the whole time gave Fang Mu a faintly ominous feeling.

Please don't let anything have happened, please!

The road seemed unbearably long. Luckily he could already see the old KMT bunker. Fifty feet past that was a low fence marking the edge of the campus. Once he climbed over it, he could grab a cab in the small street beyond and take it to the PSB headquarters.

As he ran past the colossal concrete structure, it seemed to be silently gazing around at the lonely corner of campus.

Fang Mu's steps suddenly slowed.

He stared blankly at the section of bunker that rose above ground.

Seven?

As if drawn, Fang Mu walked slowly forward.

When he reached the entrance he saw that the bunker's rust-covered doors were unlocked. The iron chain that usually fastened them shut was nowhere to be seen.

He walked cautiously up to the doors, grabbed the rusty handle, and pushed hard.

The doors were old and would only open wide enough for one person to fit through. Cold, moldy air blew against Fang Mu's face. Inside it was pitch-black. He could only make out the space just beyond the entrance. 

Taking a deep breath, he walked inside.

CHAPTER
28
Hell

T
hanks to the sunlight filtering through the doorway, Fang Mu could see that an approximately 30-step-long cement stairway descended before him. He carefully began walking down one step at a time, but before long, the way was completely engulfed in darkness. When he looked back, he could only make out the thinnest ray of light coming from the doorway. After hesitating for several seconds, he gritted his teeth and carefully lowered one foot down until it reached the next stair. Continuing on this way for over a minute, he finally reached a section of flat cement.

His surroundings were pitch-black and terrifyingly silent. He stood in place for several seconds and did his best to look around, but in every direction it was too dark to even see his own fingers.

The darkness seemed to have a mass of its own, and as layer upon layer of it wrapped around him, Fang Mu quickly sensed its weight. His body felt heavier and heavier and his legs started to go limp.

Whether from fear or the cold air inside the bunker, Fang Mu's whole body began to tremble. He could even hear his teeth start to chatter. Suddenly, he remembered that he had his lighter in his pocket and he hurriedly pulled it out.

He flipped open the lid, flicked the wheel, and a small bright flame appeared in his hand.

No longer surrounded by darkness, Fang Mu discovered that he was standing in a large hall, roughly 360-square-feet in size.

The room was rectangular, made entirely of concrete, and empty except for some old desks stacked in the corners. A section of the wall directly in front of Fang Mu seemed a little different than the dark gray concrete around it. In the flickering light of the flame, it appeared to be a door.

The little flame actually made Fang Mu feel a lot warmer, and his body stopped shaking so violently. Pulling out his dagger, he took a deep breath and ventured forward.

It really was a door, or rather a pair of rust-covered doors shut together. Putting his hand on the crude, ice-cold door handle, he could tell it was free of dust. Someone had come that way recently.

Giving it a try, Fang Mu pulled hard on the door. It opened with an ear-piercing creak.

An even stronger odor of mold burst forth, choking him until he could barely breathe. He stood in place, holding up the thin flame of the lighter and surveying what was in front of him.

He seemed to be standing at one end of a long corridor. Suddenly he felt overcome by a nearly uncontrollable panic and his hand holding the lighter began to shake.

In the light of the flickering flame, the walls of the corridor appeared to sway. Feeling himself go lightheaded, Fang Mu quickly grabbed onto the door to steady himself.

His hand gripped the rough handle of the dagger in his palm, a contact that gradually calmed him. Composing himself, he did his best not to look at the pitch-black far end of the corridor and used the lighter to survey his surroundings.

Doors made of iron bars stood open several feet ahead of him, one on either side of the hallway. Rooms approximately 60-square-feet in size lay beyond them. Fang Mu could vaguely make out the shapes of dilapidated chairs and desks stacked inside.

A section of the arch above the door to the right had faded slightly. Looking closer, he saw that it was a heavily stained image of the KMT flag, below which was written a nearly illegible "1".

Fang Mu looked at the door on the right. The same symbol was on the arch, only this time the number "2" was written below it.

He understood. These were prison cells.

Unless he was wrong, Tai Wei should be in the fourth cell on the right.

Cell 7.

The thought of this made Fang Mu grow anxious. Raising the already burning-hot lighter, he walked slowly forward.

The floor beneath his feet was no longer cement, and as he walked, the gravel wedged in the soles of his shoes ground piercingly against its surface. It sounded like metal on metal. Looking down, he could vaguely see that he was standing atop a grate-work iron walkway.

He figured it was probably designed so that the guards at the time could monitor both floors at once. 

Fang Mu continued with these thoughts as he walked forward, staring at prison cell number three. He drew closer and closer, no longer stopping. Suddenly he felt the ground change beneath his feet. Just as he realized that he had probably stepped on a section of rotting wooden floorboards, his whole body abruptly fell through.

With an enormous crash, Fang Mu and the boards he had been standing on dropped heavily to the bottom floor of the bunker. He landed abruptly. He'd fallen hard, and for several seconds his chest hurt so much he couldn't breathe. After writhing in pain on the cement floor for some time, he finally forced himself to breathe out, and then a moment later he began to cough violently.

With difficulty he managed to stop coughing. He sat up, still gasping for air. The fall had knocked his glasses off and dust was in his eyes. Fiercely rubbing his eyes with one hand, he grasped about blindly with the other for his glasses. All wasn't lost; he quickly grabbed hold of his dagger.

Holding it, he felt a little more at ease. Soon he found his lighter as well.

Flicking on the lighter, Fang Mu shined it overhead. Approximately nine feet above him was a large rectangular hole, from which descended a metal ladder.

It had once been used for people to travel from floor to floor. Originally, there had likely been a removable metal lid, which had disappeared by the time the bunker was discovered by the CCP. Fearing that someone might accidentally fall through, several boards had been placed over the opening. Over time, the damp atmosphere had rotted the boards, making them weak.

Fang Mu stretched his arms and legs, deciding he had not been badly hurt. He looked around.

He was in the water dungeon. He found he was standing atop a cement platform before an enormous cement pool at least six feet deep. The pool was completely empty except for a number of iron rings that Fang Mu could faintly make out attached to the pool walls. He knew they had probably been used to shackle prisoners back when the place was still in operation.

He could see another pool farther ahead. He walked slowly toward it along the platform, guided by the faint light of the flame. Gradually the outline of the second pool began to sharpen.

Suddenly something at the bottom of the pool took shape. Fang Mu carefully stepped closer.

Amid the darkness, the object looked like some kind of box. Tightening his grip on the knife, he cautiously walked closer. When he was standing directly opposite it, he extended his hand holding the lighter as far as it would go, simultaneously straining to see what it was below.

His breath caught in his throat, and his heartbeat started to race as the object took definition.

It was an iron cage. And someone was sprawled inside. He tried to compose himself. Shakily he yelled, "Hello?"

In the vastness of the water dungeon, the sound was infinitely amplified. Bouncing off the walls, it echoed back at him with terrifying clarity. But the person in the cage didn't move at all.

Who was he?

And was he still alive? These questions ran through Fang Mu's mind as he used his lighter to illuminate his surroundings. The flame didn't reveal any stairs leading into the pool. After hesitating for a moment, he squatted down and shined the bottom of the pool. He gritted his teeth and leapt inside. He landed with an awkward thud.

The pool was deeper than he had imagined and his legs shook with pain. He decided it best not to walk immediately over, so he squatted down and listened for any sounds of movement, at the same time quickly illuminating his surroundings with the lighter. Once he was certain that the place was empty, he slowly stood up, gripped his dagger, and carefully advanced on the cage. He had been right. Someone was lying inside.

In the faint light of the lighter flame, he couldn't be certain whether it was a man or a woman. Straining to see the person more clearly, he cautiously approached.

Was it Tai Wei? It didn't seem like it. This person was a little shorter, a little heavier.

Who was it? As he drew closer to the cage, the person's outline became more defined.

It was a man, curled on his side, with his back to Fang Mu. Something about his gray sweater looked very familiar…

The flickering flame shone on the man's gray hair.

Fang Mu's eyes went wide as he hoped against hope.

Throwing caution to the wind, he ran to the other side of the cage and squatted down. He held the lighter flame up to the man's face.

It was Professor Qiao.

For a moment, Fang Mu didn't know whether he was startled or relieved, disheartened or enraged. Kneeling down, he shook the cage as hard as he could. "Professor Qiao!" he yelled. "Professor Qiao!"

His hair disheveled and face so thin he no longer looked like himself, Professor Qiao rocked back and forth in time with Fang Mu's movements. His tightly shut eyes never opened.

Was he dead?

No, please no!

Fang Mu reached inside the cage and placed his fingers beneath Professor Qiao's nose. Fortunately, he was still breathing, if faintly.

Pocketing his knife, Fang Mu grabbed onto the cage with one hand, while using the other to press his thumb against Professor Qiao's philtrum, digging in as hard as he could, hoping to apply the proper pressure.
(Translator
’
s note: The philtrum is the indented spot between a person's mouth and nose. In traditional Chinese medicine, it is considered a very important acupressure point.)

"Wake up, Professor Qiao, wake up…"

After what seemed to Fang Mu to be an agonizingly long time, Professor Qiao's hand moved slightly and a faint sound emerged from his lips.

Overjoyed, Fang Mu hurried to support Professor Qiao's head and then struggled to raise him to a sitting position.

Coughing, Professor Qiao leaned weakly against the bars of the cage.

After the coughing fit ended, he gasped for breath. "Water…water…" he mumbled, once more closing his eyes.

Water? Where can I find water around here?
Agitated, Fang Mu looked around. In the corner of the cage he spied a bottle of water. He hurriedly reached in and grabbed it. He sighed with relief; there was still about half left. After twisting off the cap, he supported Professor Qiao's upper body with one arm while he used the other hand to raise the bottle to Professor Qiao's lips.

Once he had gulped down several mouthfuls of water, Professor Qiao's breathing relaxed slightly, and his eyes slowly opened.

Professor Qiao's eyes, which had once been bright with keen intelligence, were now dazed and glassy. He slowly turned them to look at Fang Mu. After staring at him dully for several seconds, he finally recognized him.

"It's you?"

"It's me, Professor Qiao, it's Fang Mu." He quickly asked, "How did you end up here, sir?"

Professor Qiao shook his head, his lips curling into a bitter smile.

"
Aye
, don't ask." He sighed. "I'm old...an old fool. I thought I could convince him to turn himself in. I thought he was still the same obedient, diligent student from all those years ago."

"You mean Sun Pu, right?"

"Oh? So you know then?" Professor Qiao was momentarily stunned. Then he laughed faintly. "I really was right about you."

"Save your energy, Professor Qiao. I'm going to get you out of here!" Helping him to lean against the bars, Fang Mu stood and looked the cage over more thoroughly.

With Professor Qiao inside, the cage had to weigh well over 200 pounds. Moving it would be extremely difficult, not to mention getting it out of the pool and up onto the first floor. His only chance was to open the lock, get Professor Qiao out, and then decide on his next step. 

After locating the lock, Fang Mu weighed it in his hand. The thing was solid. Pulling out his knife, he inserted the point into the keyhole and fiddled with it lightly. It wasn't going to work. Not only would this not open the lock, it would likely break the knife as well.