Profiler (Fang Mu Eastern Crimes Series Book 1) (25 page)

"Head to the north, feet to the south… head to the north, feet to the south…" he muttered to himself, before abruptly asking: "Where were the door and window located at the crime scene?"

After thinking about it for a moment, Tai Wei replied, "I think it was a north-south arrangement. The door was north and the window south. I remember Old Zhao saying to me at the time that the victim's head was pointed towards the door and her feet towards the window."

"What you're saying is, when the police entered the room, this is what they saw?" Saying this, Fang Mu thought for a moment, and then rotated the photograph. Wang Qian's spread-eagle body was now upside-down, her head, arms and legs pointing in five different directions. 

Fang Mu's swept his eyes across the victim's head, torso, arms, and legs. Suddenly his breathing grew rapid. Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he quickly dialed a number. Tai Wei could see his hands were shaking.

After a few seconds, Fang Mu heard Du Yu's voice on the other end: "Hello?"

"It's Fang Mu. Du Yu, do you still remember what that five-pointed star on our door looked like?"

"Five-pointed star? What five-pointed star?"

Fang Mu leapt to his feet in agitation. "The one from the night of the World Cup finals! We watched the game at a restaurant, came back, I went to the bathroom, and then when I returned to our room, you were wiping something off our door. You said it was a five-pointed star. Do you remember or not?"

"Oh, now I remember. Yeah, that's what happened. What made you think of it now?"

"That's none of your concern! I just need you to tell me, what did that five-pointed star look like?"

"It had five points man, what else can be said? As I recall it was pretty damn ugly, too."

"C'mon, just think; was there anything else special about it? For example…"

"Oh yeah, I just thought of something. The five-pointed star, it was upside-down."

"…Upside-down…" said Fang Mu, seemingly speaking to himself. All of a sudden, his face was ashen.

"That's right. It was drawn with one point down and two points up. Why do you want to know? …Hey, Fang Mu, can you still hear me? Hello, hello…?"

Ignoring him, Fang Mu slowly hung up the phone.

Looking as if all his energy had left him, Fang Mu leaned back against the bench, his eyes empty. From Fang Mu's conversation with Du Yu, Tai Wei more or less understood that on the eve of Qu Weiqiang and Wang Qian's murders, someone had drawn an upside-down five-pointed star on Fang Mu's door. Now he wondered what it was supposed to mean.

"What's the significance of an upside-down five-pointed star?" asked Tai Wei.

Fang Mu seemed to be so scared that he had begun to tremble. It took him a long time to reply. At last, lips shaking, he said, "Richard Ramirez. American serial killer. On multiple occasions between 1984 and 1985, he snuck into peoples' homes, killed all the adult men, raped the women and children, and then dismembered their corpses. Once he was finished, he would leave behind the same symbol at every crime scene: an upside-down five-pointed star. Sometimes he would leave it on the wall, sometimes on a mirror, and sometimes directly on the bodies of his victims."

He pointed at the crime scene photograph. "Wang Qian's head is facing the door and her feet are facing the window so that when police entered the room she would have looked just like an upside-down five-pointed star. Ramirez was different than other serial killers. Not only did he lack any trademark method of murdering his victims—he'd shoot them, beat them to death, slit their throats, strangle them—he also didn't seek out any particular kind of victim. He killed children under five, men and women over seventy, and people of all races and walks of life. As a result, he was extremely difficult for police to catch. At last, Ramirez was arrested in 1985 and sentenced to death in 1989."

With that, Fang Mu dropped his head and said no more.

Lighting a cigarette, Tai Wei slowly organized his thoughts.

"Richard Ramirez, Harold Shipman, Tsutomu Miyazaki, Ed Gein, Charles Manson," he said at last, seemingly lost in thought, "it really does seem like this guy is copying famous serial killers from history. And he even left a clue to the first crime on your door—the five-pointed star…"

The moment these words left Tai Wei's mouth, he abruptly stopped talking and his eyes went wide. The cigarette in his hand was immediately forgotten. For several seconds he sat there, stunned. He then turned to face Fang Mu, who was trying to light a cigarette, but his hands were shaking too much to use the lighter. 

At last, with what seemed great determination, Tai Wei slowly said: "Fang Mu, I think this guy is coming for you." He gave the kid a careful look. His face was now deathly pale. "He's testing you, trying to see whether you can guess who he'll be copying next. No one else on campus understands this stuff as much as you do."

Tai Wei spoke slowly and softly, but to Fang Mu, each word felt like a bullet shot straight at his heart. "You think so?" he asked at last. "No way, that's impossible." Lighting a cigarette, he inhaled deeply, and then turned to Tai Wei and forced a smile.

What kind of smile was this? Tai Wei had to wonder.

Disheartened. Indignant. Despairing. Terrified. Was he trying to convince himself that this was all just a coincidence?

Don't be such a fool,
Fang Mu thought as his thin, self-deceiving smile twitched involuntarily.

Time passed and the sky grew dark. To Fang Mu, it began to seem as if all the dim shapes around him were growing nearer. The basketball hoops, the chain-link fence, the trees, even the dorms all appeared to come alive, and with the deepening darkness they seemed to be secretly laughing at him, as if they were closing in on him, malice in their hearts, step by step.

He felt his throat become dry, his mouth bitter, and his head spin. At last, unable to stop himself, he bent over and began to vomit.

Tai Wei sat there motionlessly, watching as Fang Mu retched so violently that his body appeared to split in half.

His heart was filled with sympathy and misery.

CHAPTER
18
The
Yorkshire
Ripper

F
ang Mu lay in bed all day. He didn't eat, didn't drink, didn't say a single word; just stared at the ceiling and ignored everyone. Although Du Yu was already accustomed to this sort of behavior, he had a vague feeling that something was different this time.

Tai Wei came by later that night.

When Tai Wei entered the dorm room, Du Yu was trying to convince Fang Mu to have some of the dinner he had bought for him. Tai Wei saw that a lunch tray was still sitting on Fang Mu's desk, the food long since gone cold.

Du Yu nodded at Tai Wei as he came into the room and then motioned helplessly in Fang Mu's direction.

Only a day had passed, but Fang Mu had already thinned out considerably. His chin was even sharper than usual and his eyes, still staring motionlessly at the ceiling, appeared startlingly huge.

Tai Wei sat down next to Fang Mu's bed and looked at him for several seconds. "You fasting?"

Fang Mu made no response. His eyes didn't even move.

Tai Wei chuckled and picked up Fang Mu's dinner tray. He gave it a good sniff.

"Mmm, smells delicious. Stewed chicken and potatoes with rice. What's this one?"

"Sweet and sour crispy-fried fish balls," said Du Yu, looking at Fang Mu as he answered. "It's an appetizer."

"Wow, what a considerate friend you have!" said Tai Wei. "You'd better eat this quick."

Fang Mu briefly dropped his gaze from the ceiling. "Thank you," he said quietly, and then rolled over to face the inside of the bed.

Du Yu looked at Tai Wei and shrugged helplessly. Tai Wei just smiled and waved his hand to show he didn't mind.

The three of them sat there in silence. After a little while, Du Yu picked up his backpack and water bottle and motioned to Tai Wei that he was going out. Then left, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Now it was just the two of them. Tai Wei looked at Fang Mu, who was still lying there motionless with his face to the wall. Sighing, Tai Wei pulled out a cigarette and gloomily smoked it.

By the time the cigarette had burned all the way down, Fang Mu still hadn't acknowledged his visitor in the least. At last, Tai Wei started to talk.

"Partner, I completely understand how you're feeling right now. I might be a cop, but if I had an opponent like this, I'd be just as scared as you. But scared or not, hiding out in your room all day is no kind of solution. If he wants you dead, then no matter how much you try to escape, sooner or later he's going to find you. That's why we need to strike first!"

Seeing that Fang Mu still hadn't moved, Tai Wei continued. "Today I looked over all of Ma Kai's known acquaintances and didn't find anyone suspicious; therefore, I don't think the problem came from that end. I've also already spoken with the Changhong City PSB and asked for their assistance in investigating if any of the family members or accomplices of the criminals you put away are trying to get revenge." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I know I didn't ask your permission. You're not going to be mad at me, are you?"

Suddenly Fang Mu sat up, startling Tai Wei.

"Is it possible for you to shut your mouth for even a second and not chatter on like an old woman?" Fang Mu yelled.

Doing his best to keep his cool, Tai Wei began: "I understand how you're feeling right now –"

"You don't understand shit!" said Fang Mu roughly. "I'm not afraid at all. Even if he were hiding under the bed right now with a knife in his hand I still wouldn't be afraid. This isn't the first time I've faced someone who wanted kill me, and it won't be the last!" Suddenly his voice choked with sobs. "Why did you need to kill all those people? If you want me dead then do it! Kill me right now! Why end so many lives for no reason?"

He jumped up and knocked all the books off his shelf, then fell dejectedly back onto the bed.

"Son of a bitch..." he said beneath his breath. As he closed his eyes, a tear dropped down his face and onto his pillow.

Tai Wei looked at the books scattered across the floor, and then at the frail young man lying on the bed before him. Now that he knew the real reason Fang Mu was feeling so down, he couldn't help but feel a measure of respect for the stubborn bastard.

Love and duty. No emotions were more precious than those.

Tai Wei stood up, studying the dejected student on the bed. Bending over, he slowly picked up all the books, blew the dust from their covers, and then placed them neatly back on the bookshelf. When he finished, he sat beside the bed. He fixed his eyes on Fang Mu.

"Kid, get up and eat!"

His tone was firm and absolute. All traces of his previously comforting manner were gone.

Noticing this, Fang Mu opened his eyes and looked at him.

Tai Wei didn't avoid his gaze at all. In his eyes, Fang Mu read the trust and encouragement.

As if he was giving a pistol to a diehard partner, Tai Wei placed a spoon in Fang Mu's hand.

"Partner," he said, "we've got to keep going. I don't know how many more victims he's planning on killing, but we need to do everything we can to stop him before more people die. Don't think any more about the ones who have already gone. When you're dead, you're dead; you feeling guilty is not going to bring anyone back. This is your fate, Fang Mu. Great power demands great responsibility, and it's useless to try and hide from it. Catching the killer is the best consolation you can give to his victims. But before all that," he said as he placed the food in front of Fang Mu, "at the very least, you need to not starve to death!"

Fang Mu looked at the food before him. It was still steaming a little. He looked at Tai Wei. The man's expression was deadly serious.

For several seconds the two of them stared at each other in silence. At last Fang Mu took the plate of food and began to eat ravenously.

Damn, that's delicious,
Fang Mu thought.

When he finished eating, Fang Mu leapt out of bed and stretched. The tightness in his chest relaxed with each breath and his whole body felt much more alert.

He then summarized some of his recent thoughts for Tai Wei. Even though he had been lying in bed, tormented by anger and guilt for the past day and night, he had still been closely analyzing the details of the case. His mind had not been idle. As he saw it, the reason the killer was targeting him had to have something to do with one of the cases he had helped solve. Even though Tai Wei had not asked his permission before contacting the Changhong City PSB, Fang Mu agreed that at present it was their only feasible lead.

"And as for the numbers," he added, "I believe they have some special significance."

"Oh?" said Tai Wei, his tone curious. "What are you thinking?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but from the five distinct crimes that have occurred so far, there have already been six victims. However, the numbers left at the crime scenes have only been one through five," Fang Mu said. "I found this strange when I first noticed it, because if the numbers corresponded to the victims, this would demonstrate that the killer was showing off and trying to provoke us. But what does it mean if the numbers actually correspond to the crimes themselves? It means that the killer doesn't care about the number of victims killed, but rather the number of crimes committed—or in other words, the number of people he has copied. With this line of thought, this number is most likely fixed, meaning that the killer probably already knows exactly how many people he is planning on copying.

"Because," Fang Mu paused, "if this is a test, then like all tests, it must have an end, at which point it will be determined whether or not I've passed." He looked calmly at Tai Wei and smiled.

Seeing the smile on the kid's lips, Tai Wei felt chilled to the bone. Since he was young, Tai Wei had experienced his share of tests, but none had ever made him feel as thoroughly terrified as this one.

To imagine taking a test where every answer had to be written with a pen dipped in blood was both terrifying and daunting. If answered correctly, then the test was over and everything was okay. But if anything was answered incorrectly, then one person was going to disappear from the world. And it probably wouldn't just stop at him or her.

And more terrifying yet, before they had even realized it was a test, each of the first five questions had been crossed out with a bloody X. They would never have the chance to get those questions correct.

"In that case," said Tai Wei, "what's the total number going to be?"

"Seven, nine, eleven," Fang Mu said, deep in thought. "It has to be an odd number. It's unlikely to be eleven, because that would make the crimes go on for too long. He's probably anxious to face-off with me, and I doubt he's patient enough to wait until then. Seven." He nodded thoughtfully. "Seven seems to be the most likely."

"Why seven?"

"I'm a psychological profiler, so I think he wants to have a bit of a psychological competition with me. And in psychology, seven is considered an unusually attractive number."

"Attractive?"

"That's right. For example, when it comes to remembering strings of numbers, people are generally able to remember one or two less or one or two more than seven. From five to nine, in other words. After nine, most people's memories become hazy. So when people try to remember fairly long chains of numbers, such as pi, for instance, they often break them up into groups. In addition, there are many notable parts of human history that happen to involve seven, such as the seven days in a week, seven notes in the diatonic scale, seven colors in the visible spectrum, seven deadly sins, the seventh..." Suddenly Fang Mu stopped talking and the color drained from his face.

"The seventh what?"

"Oh, nothing." Very quickly Fang Mu's expression returned to normal.

Tai Wei lowered his head, as if he were considering something. After some time, he looked up. "Fang Mu."

"Yeah?"

"What were you just about to say?"

Fang Mu stared at him for several seconds. Then he smiled. "I don't know. If I really am part of this test, then I must be the last part. And if I'm not part of it, then my time's going to come immediately after it's over. In short, I can't escape."

Seeing the calm look on Fang Mu's face, Tai Wei didn't know what to say. The kid was discussing his own murder in the same manner as one might discuss football or the weather or some other totally inconsequential topic. It was absurd.

Tapping the gun on his waist, Tai Wei said slowly, "I won't let anything happen to you."

Fang Mu smiled indifferently. "I hope that's the case. But like you said, this is my fate. If I really am meant to die, then there's no avoiding it."

He walked to the window and looked out. Through the frost that was already covering the glass he could vaguely make out the streetlights below, as well as the students who passed beneath them, talking and laughing loudly.

"Death," said Fang Mu quietly. "Actually, heaven has already been looking after me."

Then with one by the bed and the other at the window, the two men in Room 313 lapsed into silence. Fang Mu looked outside and Tai Wei looked at Fang Mu.

The light through the window gave him a slightly golden silhouette. After a while, Tai Wei got up and stood beside him.

"Assuming you're right," said Tai Wei slowly, "then there's still two more." He looked out at the darkening campus. Even now it was still buzzing with life. 

After a long time, Fang Mu spoke. His voice was soft and sounded as if he were speaking only to himself.

"There's still two more."

The days grew colder and colder. Soon girls had no choice but to abandon their more fashionable, revealing clothing for heavier attire. And as the summer colors quietly vanished from campus, the whole place became much lonelier and more desolate.

Great swaths of leaves were now daily blown from the trees by the fierce autumn wind and floated gently to the ground. When stepped on, they crackled softly, as if not yet resigned to their fate. The day before a light snow had blanketed the ground, but now the ground was covered in mud and slowly rotting leaves. It seemed as if overnight the once bustling campus had been filled with the air of death.