A Devil's Mind

by Gangxueyin

  The temple monks said that a strange monk had indeed paid a visit to the temple but only stayed two days, then disappeared. They couldn’t recall much about him.

  Yin Dexing drove Han Yin back to the police station.

  Han Yin called Chief Cai and found out they had both come up empty in their search for the suspect and Huang Ling. He was ready to pack it in and return to J City, but Chief Cai disagreed and asked him to stay one more night to go over the case again, and there were still those markings on the victims’ bodies that needed to be deciphered. Han Yin agreed to stay.

  Han Yin looked at the hand of one of the children in the picture. She was smugly pointing at the juniper tree. He followed the direction of the pointing finger and saw a kind of picture on the tree. Perhaps something the child had carved there. It was hard to make out with the naked eye. He had one of the staff members scan the picture and enlarge it. What the child had presumably carved in the tree was the same as the Buddhist markings he had seen on the wall around the temple.

  If Yin Aijun had been the first “rod,” then Huang Ling was the final one. If Yin Aijun was represented by a short vertical rod (), then Huang Ling was represented by a short horizontal rod (-). Thus, adding Teacher Zhao’s long vertical rod (|) to Li Lan’s long horizontal one (—) and Zhang Dan’s short vertical one (), Liu Xiao’e’s short horizontal one (-), this would form the auspicious Buddhist symbol. So the killer was trying to form the swastika (卐), written as the 万 character.

  If this were true, then the deaths of Teacher Zhao and the three girls were connected to the photograph, the tree spirit, religion, and the curse. Looking at it in this way, the crazy monk might truly be the killer. But there were complications.

  The monk’s motive for murdering the three girls and Teacher Zhao was because they hurt the tree spirit and broke the peace and quiet of the temple grounds. This was their punishment. But why the necrophilia? As a stubbornly devout believer in Buddha, how could he have performed such grotesque and awful acts? In Buddhism, committing these kinds of sins would condemn him straight to hell. If the monk killed people because he granted himself a sacred mission, then necrophilia, sending the flesh of the daughter to her mother, and collecting heads and sticking them in the ground would be traveling the path of pure evil. So there are philosophical and spiritual contradictions between the monk’s behavior and the killer’s motives. If the monk were truly crazy, no recognizable logic would coherently reflect his actions.

  Just when the evidence was starting to point at the crazy monk, Han Yin started having doubts.

  24

  IN THE NAME OF LOVE

  While Han Yin waited for Chief Cai to return, he called Ye Xi and related these developments, and no matter what happened, he’d be returning to J City first thing in the morning. Just hearing her voice again made Han Yin feel lighter, but he couldn’t tell her that. Ye Xi was eager to tell him about the DNA test results and give him information about Ma Wentao.

  The sample taken from Yin Dexing confirmed that the victim had been Yin Aijun. And the DNA test of the blood taken from the window of the Old Capital University dormitory ruled out Yin Aijun, though it was identical to the test results of the saliva found on the water bottle at the KFC on North China Road. The matching DNA was from the same woman.

  Also, according to the owner of a bookstore not too far from Ma Wentao’s former shop, after the Literary Wave Bookroom was demolished and relocated, Ma disposed of his inventory quickly. He said he’d wanted to return to his hometown to write in peace and quiet. The man never heard from Ma again.

  Han Yin still had his suspicions about Ma Wentao. Considering his background and the clues provided by Xu Sanpi, there was an extremely strong possibility that Ma Wentao was Yin Aijun’s killer. Han Yin decided to change his plans and told Ye Xi he wouldn’t be returning to J City right away. Instead, he’d go to Ma Wentao’s hometown to do a little investigating. He asked Ye Xi for Ma Wentao’s address.

  That evening, the disgraced Huang Ling’s body was found by the wooden bridge.

  She was propped up against a pier at the bridgehead, her eyes locked in a distant gaze. Her neck showed harsh signs of a strangulation. Her shirt and bra had been ripped off, exposing her breasts and the scratches on her cleavage. Just as Han Yin had expected, the scratches formed a short horizontal (-) rodlike mark. Apart from this, the killer had not committed any further sadistic acts. Her head was still intact, and her skirt covered her hips. A preliminary forensic investigation found no trace of rape. Huang Ling had long hair, and a few clumps were sticky. A close forensic screening found it was from a type of cola syrup.

  “Dammit! We used so much man power and still couldn’t beat the killer to her. Really fucking frustrating!” Dismay and dejection were written all over Chief Cai’s face. He sighed. “With all of these policemen . . . I just don’t get it. We couldn’t even protect her! This is just too fucking much! He’s too good. He’ll always beat us.”

  “No!” said Han Yin, his eyes fixed on Huang Ling. “Quite the opposite. The killer’s slipping in every way. Our evidence suggests Huang Ling is the last target, and this was his last act. The killer’s previous crimes were highly successful, and his feelings of satisfaction and fulfillment had been steadily rising. At the same time, his craving to kill grew increasingly intense. He had hoped his final act would be the ultimate perfection. But he did very little to Huang Ling, only killing her and merely leaving a brush stroke on her chest. He’s losing interest. It’s as if he only killed Huang Ling to round out the victims from the photo. So he could assemble all the parts of the 卐 symbol.”

  “So, what are you saying?”

  Han Yin gazed at Huang Ling’s corpse for another moment, then turned back and said, “Let’s talk when we get back to the station.”

  The evidence still pointed to the crazy monk, and the task force issued an arrest warrant. Han Yin chose to back off. He needed to find someplace quiet to ponder the case again, so he headed to the police dormitory. The details of the case played in his mind, like a movie.

  The monk had appeared at Gaoshen Village about a month earlier. Not long after that, the killings started. At intervals of one week each, Li Lan, Zhang Dan, and Liu Xiao’e were murdered, beheaded, and raped. Liu Xiao’e’s corpse appeared that evening or the next day. Flesh from her thigh was sent to her home. Her head, the heads of the other two victims, and the mannequin head, standing in for Yin Aijun, were quietly buried under Teacher Zhao’s window. Then, the heavy rain washed the dirt away. As a result of her intense shock, Teacher Zhao was taken to the health clinic, where she was murdered. Then the photograph appeared. Han Yin and Chief Cai found the connection and potential reason for the murders—upsetting the ancient juniper tree and being branded by the curse of the crazy monk. On-the-spot interviews and enlarging the photograph uncovered the mystery of the markings left by the killer. After that, they accurately determined that the killer’s final target would be Huang Ling, but she was killed in an obligatory and uncharacteristic way and casually dumped at the bridge.

  The killer had devoted the most time to torturing Teacher Zhao. He not only used her daughter’s flesh to torment the already inconsolable woman but also arranged the heads of her favorite pupils under her window so they’d be gazing up at her. The killer seemed be saying, “You always loved having them around you, so here you go!” Also, Teacher Zhao had been brutally hacked to death in a much more barbaric way versus how the other girls had been killed. How the killer had treated the old woman’s genitals was even more horrifying—tightly sewing up her labia signified a greater desire for possession.

  Was the crazy monk’s supposed curse just a smokescreen?

  It had been three or four days since Han Yin started the case and Liu Xiao’e’s corpse came to light. For these past few days, he and Chief Cai had been running around so much that they were exhausted. Had the killer led them step-by-step into a meticulously designed trap?

  Han Yin suddenly stumbled
upon an extremely simple truth.

  Assume two individuals, Person A and Person B. If Person A repeatedly plays humiliating tricks on B, then only by seeing Person B’s embarrassed look after being fooled can Person A feel the greatest degree of excitement and accomplishment over being in control.

  The killer sent Teacher Zhao her daughter’s thigh flesh and planted her students’ heads under her window. When the old lady unwittingly ate her daughter’s flesh while being devastated over the murdered girls, little did she know that they were actually right under her window, staring at her all along. This sort of control must have excited the killer tremendously, but only if it could be witnessed.

  The crazy monk never had this kind of contact with Teacher Zhao. Nor is it likely he would have been able to abduct the four girls without a trace, especially with no way to dump the corpses. The one who had direct contact with Teacher Zhao, whose path crossed with the four girls, who could get them to let down their guards, who had the means to dispose of bodies while totally deceiving everyone, was none other than Liu Liang—Liu Xiao’e kid brother and Teacher Zhao’s own son!

  Liu Liang had said he had a beverage-making business, so the cola syrup in Huang Ling’s hair could have come from his van. Han Yin couldn’t delay. He had to connect with the task force, assign some officers to head to Liu Liang’s house, and inspect his van. If they arrived in time, they might be able to find evidence establishing a connection between Liu Liang and Huang Ling.

  That night at 9:00 p.m., Han Yin and Chief Cai, leading a group of policemen, stealthily arrived at Liu Liang’s home. It was very dark inside. The van was parked by the gate, locked. Han Yin signaled the tech squad to get in and look it over.

  Not long after, the techs discovered a few strands of long hair—possibly a woman’s. It appeared that Han Yin’s analytical thinking was correct. Liu Liang could very possibly be the perpetrator.

  Chief Cai ordered the techs to do an immediate DNA match against Huang Ling’s hair. He and Han Yin decided to go inside the house and question Liu Liang.

  They went through the courtyard and up to the front door. Chief Cai knocked, and the door swung open the moment his knuckles touched it, as if Liu Liang had left it open for them.

  They heard the sound of his snoring coming from the east wing. The two men raised their flashlights and headed over.

  “Liu Liang, it’s the police. Get up. We have some questions for you.”

  Chief Cai shined the light at the bed, then shouted. He started trembling all over, muttered, and almost dropped his flashlight. Han Yin recoiled. Nothing could have prepared them for what they saw—Liu Liang sleeping sweetly on his mother’s bed, cradling her head in his arms.

  “Get up! Get up! Get the fuck up! You disgusting beast!” roared Chief Cai.

  Liu Liang slept on, and Chief Cai rushed over to the bed, grabbed a handful of the boy’s hair, and hauled and dragged him onto the floor. Han Yin twisted his arms behind his back and handcuffed him.

  Only then did Liu Liang slowly open his eyes, as if he’d been expecting this. He calmly looked at Han Yin and Chief Cai, yawned, and mumbled, “You’re here!” Then he smiled at his mother’s head rolling on the floor.

  Liu Liang was taken to the Q City PSB Criminal Investigation Division.

  Since the Gaoshen Village serial killer case had no connection with the case in J City, Han Yin was removed from the interrogation. The chief of the Gaoshen Village Serial Killer task force, Yu Bo, and his deputy, Fang Dawei, conducted the interrogation. Han Yin and Chief Cai were only allowed to sit in the observation room next door and follow the questioning through a two-way mirror.

  The interrogation went very smoothly. Liu Liang gave a candid, clear, and complete account of the details of his crimes. However, when it came to the question of motive, he shut down. Deputy Chiefs Yu and Fang didn’t understand this. Since he’d confessed to everything, why not explain his motives?

  They used typical interrogation techniques, sometimes patiently guiding the suspect and other times harshly berating him. They used every trick they could, but still Liu Liang held firm. All he did was gaze at them mildly, never uttering a sound. They left the room to discuss how to deal with him.

  “Could I give it a try?” Han Yin asked.

  Han Yin’s contribution had greatly helped to solve the case, and everyone knew that he was a talented investigator with unquestionable ability. Thus, they let him give it a shot.

  Han Yin sat down and greeted Liu Liang. Liu Liang nodded in reply.

  Han Yin focused on Liu Liang’s eyes, and Liu Liang looked right back at him. A moment later, Han Yin smiled and said mildly, “It was out of love, right?”

  A slight flash came into the suspect’s eyes as he smiled. “You were the one who figured it out.”

  Han Yin nodded. “I knew you didn’t hate them. You just wanted to possess them. If you don’t speak out, everyone will misunderstand you. Share your story with me.”

  Liu Liang looked at Han Yin for a long while, then with a slight nod, said, “Where to start?”

  “The beginning’s always a good place.”

  “All right, then.” Liu Liang let out a deep breath, stared down at the corner of the table, and let it all come out.

  “You all met my mother. It wasn’t the real her. She must have used all her kindliness and patience on her students, because when she came home, she was like a raging tiger. Of course, my sister was an exception. She was top of the class at school, unlike me. So, whenever my mother was in a bad mood, she’d take out her anger and resentment on me and my father. Finally, one day, he had enough and filed for divorce. He took off somewhere far away! But I was young and had to stay at home. I look so much like my father that it incited my mother to even greater hatred and resentment. She sent me away, only nine years old, to live with my grandmother.

  “I felt rejected and abandoned, very much alone. Not long after that, Granny got sick and died, and I came back home. But my mother wouldn’t let me stay in the main part of the house. She and my sister occupied the two bedrooms, so I had to live in a storage shed in the courtyard. It was right next to the toilet, very damp, and had only a small window. There was no electricity, so at night I had to light candles. There in the darkness, abandoned, my solitary feelings grew stronger and stronger, and I felt deeply sorry for myself. It turned me into someone who didn’t know how to socialize with people, especially girls. Every day, lots of her students came and went, and none of them acknowledged my existence. Nobody paid attention to me or cared about me. They didn’t know how much I wanted to be with them, to have their attention, and how much I wanted the same love and care my mother gave them!”

  Liu Liang sniffed, and tears appeared at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t know when it started, but I began to fantasize about killing my mother. I’d sneak into her room and imagine bashing her head with a hammer or hacking her throat to pieces so she’d never be able to yell at me again. I fantasized about sealing up her vagina. Since she didn’t love me, why did she even give birth to me? But I never had the courage to make it happen, and I took out my anger and rage on our dog and the neighbor’s cats, tearing their limbs off. Suddenly I felt I wasn’t completely helpless. Those cats and the dog would never abandon me. I wanted to take back everything that should have been mine.

  “Then came along a big coincidence! Several weeks ago, the crazy monk rode with me back to the city. He asked about my family. When I told him my mother’s name and what she did, he recalled the time he cursed her and her students. It was a joke to him by then, but it gave me the inspiration to make him my scapegoat. So I killed him and started scheming about how to kill the others. I remember at the very moment I killed my mother, I felt my life was perfect. I didn’t care about killing Huang Ling, but I had to finish what I started. After I killed her, I didn’t feel good. I smeared the syrup on her head. I’d finished everything I had to do in life. Afterward meant nothing. I would be in the village or in jail or even in hel
l, but I really didn’t care.”

  Han Yin knew that all confessions were just another performance. A serial killer who travels down the road of murder is incapable of coming back. It leads them inevitably, always, to their own remorseless destruction.

  25

  THE RIDDLE OF THE MANUSCRIPT

  Ma Wentao’s hometown was Z City in the northern part of S Province. Early the next morning, Han Yin raced off to Z City in the car Q City arranged for him. He located Ma Wentao’s home using the address Ye Xi had given him from the old file.

  Han Yin knocked on the door. Ma Wentao’s mother answered, and Han Yin identified himself and said he wished to discuss some matters with her son.

  The old lady looked surprised. After appraising Han Yin for a moment, she invited him in. She led Han Yin to a room on the south side of the house, then motioned with her head toward the wall on the right side of the room. There was a black-and-white framed photograph hanging there, draped on either side by ink-brushed elegiac couplets.

  Now Han Yin was surprised. “This is your son’s room? Ma Wentao, has he . . . passed?”

  The old lady put her hand over her mouth. She nodded and began to cry.

  “I apologize. I didn’t mean to upset you by coming here. Your son was so young. What happened?”

  “Suicide! He jumped off a building!” She had a hard time saying it. It may have been a while since anyone had spoken with her. “In 2003, when he was forced to close his bookstore, his dad had a stroke. So my son abandoned his plans to find a site for a new bookstore and came home to help me take care of his dad. In September of 2007, his dad passed on. It was a great shock. My son was terribly depressed. All day he’d shut himself in his room. He was overcome by sorrow, but I felt he’d recover. But unexpectedly with the new year, something else happened that again broke his . . .”