Profiler (Fang Mu Eastern Crimes Series Book 1)

by Lei Mi

  When Fang Mu wouldn't take it, she scooped a spoonful of rice porridge and lifted it toward his mouth.

  He turned his head away. "I don't want to eat. You should go. I want to be alone for a while."

  Having no other choice, Deng Linyue placed the tray back on the desk. In a soft voice, she said, "I'll stay with you."

  He shook his head. "Don't bother. You should head back."

  She bit her lip. Her voice rose despite herself. "Do you really…find me so awful?"

  He considered her for a moment, and then said helplessly, "No. There's just nothing you can do to help me."

  "There's nothing I can do to help? How can you not need my help at a time like this?" She suddenly stood up. "I know your emotions are painfully raw at this moment, and although I don't understand what happened or why that person wanted to kill you, I still want to be a consoling shoulder for you. Can't you be a little warmer to me?"

  "No!" His voice leapt to an angry tone. "Do you really understand me? Do you know what kind of person I am? Do you know the burden you'll have to bear if you're with me? You can't do it!"

  "What makes you think I can't? After what I went through, what else could be too much for me?"

  Not wanting to argue with her any further, he stood up and opened the door. "Either go or don't go, but if you stay, I'm leaving!"

  Tears were now running down her face. Deng Linyue could only stand there and stare at him for several seconds. Then she bolted past him and ran out of the room.

  As Fang Mu watched her figure disappear down the end of the hall, he was awash in both unspeakable guilt and exhaustion.

  Deng Linyue, you don't understand. The scariest part isn't knowing what he's going to do; it's having no idea when he's going to do it.

  One day later, Tai Wei called to tell Fang Mu that the blood on the black sheet was proven to be Jin Qiao's. This, combined with Tai Wei's account of the killer's appearance from when he'd chased him through the gymnasium and the library record which proved that Meng Fanzhe had taken out all the books in May of 2002 – which closely conformed to the dates of the murders – made it appear Meng Fanzhe really had been the perpetrator.

  That day, Meng Fanzhe's mother arrived at the school.

  Meng Fanzhe's father had been dead for a long time, so his mother was there alone. As soon as she heard the news, she hopped on a train and rushed to Jiangbin City. Because her heart was not strong, she had already fainted twice in the university president's office.

  It was Zou Tuanjie who told Fang Mu the news. When Fang Mu saw the woman himself, it was noon of that same day.

  An older, white-haired woman, she was escorted by two policemen up to Meng Fanzhe's room to gather his effects. As soon as she saw the police tape outside his door, she began to sob.

  Several students from the law school, including Fang Mu, stood outside Meng Fanzhe's room and watched his mother haltingly open the door. As soon as she walked inside, she looked all around, as if she was expecting to see Meng Fanzhe and hear him say, "Mom, you've come." After her gaze swept the room, she knelt beside his bed, pulled his blanket beneath her nose and inhaled as intensely as she could. She began to wail, an anguished cry of misery and loss. After she cried for a long time, the policemen reminded her why she was there. She slowly stood up and organized her dead son's belongings.

  Because the majority of Meng Fanzhe's things had been taken by the police as evidence, there only remained enough affects to fill his mother's small travel bag. As she left the room, holding the last things her son had left on this earth, she suddenly said to one of the policemen, "Would I be able to see the boy that my son attacked? I just can't believe my son could ever kill someone."

  The man's eyes rested for a second on Fang Mu's face down the hall before he said tersely to the woman, "No, that won't be possible."

  At once everyone's eyes fell on Fang Mu.

  He paid no attention to them, just watched as Meng Fanzhe's mother hobbled down the hall and then disappeared through the door at the end.

  The watching students weren't yet ready to leave. They continued to crowd the hall, and every now and then one would look over at Fang Mu and whisper something to the people around him.

  With what seemed to be a great deal of determination, Zou Tuanjie walked over to him. "Fang Mu, why did Meng Fanzhe want to kill you?"

  Fang Mu stared at him for a few seconds. "I don't know."

  Fang Mu really didn't know. For the past two days, he had been going over and over everything that had happened between him and Meng Fanzhe, and he couldn't find a single motive for the guy to want to kill him. There was also too much of a disparity between Meng Fanzhe and the killer Fang Mu had theorized; while he often reminded himself that his profiles were never going to be perfectly spot-on, these differences were simply too great.

  However, a few things were undeniable: Meng Fanzhe had marked the equation of "7" on Fang Mu's door, and then tried to kill him. Also, a lot of evidence had been discovered in his dorm room.

  Still, Fang Mu couldn't picture Fang Mu as the sly and ruthless individual who had committed all the crimes, especially not after seeing him pressed against the window of the police car, crying soundlessly. Fang Mu just kept telling himself again and again, It's not him, it's not him.

  In that instant in the police car, Meng Fanzhe was obviously begging for him to help.

  Was this really how the killer would behave?

  Soon after, the special investigation team began pulling out of Jiangbin City University campus. Prior to their departure, Tai Wei went to tell Fang Mu about the latest developments in the case. After searching through Meng Fanzhe's belongings, police had not found any sort of receipt from a car or apartment rental, nor had they discovered anything else that indicated he had rented either of these things. Still, based on the rest of the evidence, they were positive that the murders were his doing. Since he was now dead, the police decided to close the case.

  After listening to this, Fang Mu was silent for a moment. "In other words, your conclusion is that Meng Fanzhe was the killer?"

  Tai Wei nodded. "That's right."

  "Do you really believe he was the killer? Or would you just prefer to believe it?"

  Tai Wei made an effort at self-control at what sounded much like an accusation. "What do you mean?"

  "Meng Fanzhe was not the killer!"

  "What's your evidence?"

  Fang Mu hesitated.

  "Intuition? What's more reliable: intuition or facts?" Tai Wei's annoyance turned to a low level of rage. "Do you take us all for idiots?" he asked testily. "There's no denying that you've been a huge help to this case, but we've done our part as well!"

  "How about the motive? What was Meng Fanzhe's motive?"

  "Shit! Can't you see the guy was a lunatic? Since when do lunatics need a reason to kill people?"

  Fang Mu scowled back at him. "Could a lunatic have planned such precise murders? Could he have copied all those other serial killers?"

  "He…he probably didn't lose his mind all at once…"

  "Really?" Fang Mu flung his cigarette far away.

  Tai Wei continued to smoke impatiently. Suddenly his eyes narrowed on Fang Mu. "Maybe you're just being difficult because you're simply ashamed that the profile you predicted fit someone completely different than Meng Fanzhe. Is that really it?" He laughed, and then added in a stinging tone, "And especially since all this happened in front of your girlfriend?"

  "Go fuck yourself!" Fang Mu bit back at him, and stormed off.

  Rather than return to his dorm, Fang Mu headed to the library. For the past few days he had practically lived there, taking out all the books that had been found in Meng Fanzhe's dorm room and reading through them one by one. He hoped to find some clues about the course of Meng Fanzhe's psychological transformation, and although he knew it was probably hopeless, at the moment it was the only thing he could do.

  Actually, he could completely understand where Tai Wei was coming from. They had
been working on the case for nearly half a year; add to that the foreign pressure from the Thomas Gill murder, and everyone was just hoping to solve it as soon as possible. However, he refused to accept the verdict. Meng Fanzhe was not the killer – of that he was sure; but he had no way of proving it.

  Suddenly his phone rang. All the students reading nearby glared in his direction. Frowning at him, Librarian Sun nodded toward the hall, indicating to answer it outside.

  Fang Mu waved at him apologetically, grabbed his phone and ran out into the hall.

  Flipping open his phone, Fang Mu saw the number wasn't in his phone book. When he looked at the area code, his heart skipped a beat – it was from Suijing City.

  Meng Fanzhe's hometown.

  "Hello?" he said into it.

  He heard an old woman's voice on the other end. "Excuse me, is this Fang Mu?"

  "That's right. Who am I speaking to?" he asked politely.

  "I'm Meng Fanzhe's mother."

  His mouth fell open. How did she get his number? "Oh, hello, Auntie. What did you want to talk to me about?"

  "Well, I believe you already know what happened with Meng Fanzhe. Yesterday I finished organizing his final affairs…" Her voice choked with sobs. "And I just got home earlier today. After resting for several hours, I unexpectedly discovered that there was a letter in our mailbox. When I looked at it, I saw that it was from Fanzhe, and that he had sent it several days ago. I checked the date and it was the very day that all this happened."

  He felt as if his heart was about to stop. "Meng Fanzhe…sent you a letter?"

  "That's right. The letter is really confusing. He mentioned a bunch of strange things and said they had to with some doctor that he had met recently. He also wrote that if anything ever happened to him that I should give the letter to you, and he gave me your phone number and said that you were the only one who could help him…" At this point, she began to moan in pain.

  "Auntie, Auntie, are you still there?" he asked anxiously. "What's wrong?"

  "I'm here. My heart isn't doing too well. Just now…it felt a little agitated…"

  "Is your medication nearby?"

  "Yes. Wait a moment, I'm going to go take some."

  Through the receiver, Fang Mu could hear the sound of footsteps. Then a drawer was opened, pills rattled in a bottle, and a faucet was turned on.

  After a little while, Fang Mu again heard Meng Fanzhe's mother's voice. "Hello?"

  "Auntie, I'm here."

  "How can I get you the letter?"

  "Auntie, please tell me your address. I'll come get it now."

  "Okay, write this down: apartment four-zero-one, building three of number six, Golden Pedestal residential area, eighty-three North Riverbend Street, Baita District in Suijing City. Got that?"

  After copying down the address, Fang Mu read it back to Meng Fanzhe's mother. Then he warned her: "Auntie, whatever you do, don't leave the house. Wait for me and then we'll figure everything out."

  "Okay."

  After hanging up, Fang Mu went back into the reading room and returned all the books to their shelves. He quickly collected his things and hurried back to his room.

  It was already 3:50 p.m. and it would probably take him around three hours to get to Suijing City. Fang Mu doubted he would be able to make it back that night. After returning to his dorm, he opened his drawer to find that he had only a little over 100 renminbi. He packed himself a small bag, left Du Yu a note saying that he wouldn't be back until tomorrow, and grabbed his bank card and ran to the local sub-branch at the campus gate.

  The bank was filled with elderly men and women collecting their pensions, and there was a long line at the ATM outside. Fang Mu looked at all the old people in their thick glasses who were checking the figures in their bankbooks again and again, and weighed his options. At last, feeling helpless, he lined up at the back of the queue for the ATM.

  The line wriggled slowly forward. Fang Mu kept looking nervously from his watch to the distant ATM. When it was finally his turn, he took out 1,000 renminbi and then sprinted over to the cab stand in front of the school gates.

  By the time Fang Mu reached the long-distance bus station it was already 4:30. With a sinking feeling, he learned from the attendant at the ticket counter that the last bus for Suijing City had just left. Hearing this, Fang Mu jumped in a cab and headed to the train station.

  Luckily, there was still another train to Suijing City leaving at 5:10. After buying a ticket, Fang Mu went to the train station supermarket and bought some bread and a bottle of water, and then sat quietly in the waiting room until his train arrived.

  When he had seen Meng Fanzhe eating his cat alive in the bathroom that night, he had had a feeling that someone was giving Meng Fanzhe psychotherapy – and that there had been an error in his treatment, bringing his mind to the brink of collapse. Then on the night when Meng Fanzhe had gone raging mad and tried to kill him, Fang Mu began to suspect that someone might be controlling his classmate.

  Meng Fanzhe's mother had just told him that the letter mentioned a doctor. This seemed to give preliminary proof to Fang Mu's suspicions. And if this person really did exist, then he was certain to have had something to do with the murders.

  Fang Mu could feel he was getting closer and closer to the truth.

  It made him burn with impatience, and as he waited, time seemed to pass much slower than usual.

  The train traveled steadily along the tracks, sounding its horn with a kind of rhythm.

  The train was much emptier than Fang Mu had expected, and he was even able to find himself a seat. The train attendant told him that it was a local train, making all the stops, so they wouldn't be arriving at Suijing City for another four hours and 40 minutes.

  It was hardly a long journey, but since Fang Mu knew that at its end laid the answers he had long been searching for, the wait felt unbearable.

  He sat next to the window, watching the sky gradually darken. Every now and then the train would stop at a station and a smattering of passengers would get on, holding bags of all sizes.

  The dress and social status of the each of the passengers was different, but almost everyone looked anxious to return home.

  What was home? Hot food, warm slippers, a familiar bed, and the affectionate scolding of one's family members.

  Perhaps Meng Fanzhe had thought these same thoughts when he took this train home, maybe even wearing the same sort of expression.

  Fang Mu laid his head against the cold window as the image of Meng Fanzhe pressing his tear-streaked, frightened face against the cop car window appeared in his mind.

  Save me, save me, Fang Mu.

  Fang Mu closed his eyes.

  Fang Mu walked out of the Suijing City train station at a little before 10 p.m. He bypassed all the pimps incessantly touting, "Lodgings, pretty girls, very cheap," and hurried out to the public square where the cabs were parked.

  His cell phone suddenly rang. He pulled it out and looked at it. It was Deng Linyue. After thinking about it for a moment, he decided to answer.

  "Hey."

  "Where are you?" Deng Linyue hadn't contacted him for a few days, and her voice was a little cold.

  "I'm off-campus."

  "Where? I'll come meet you."

  "It's too far. I'm outside the city, in Suijing City."

  "Suijing? What are you doing there?" Her voice sounded surprised.

  "Don't worry about that right now," he said, hailing a cab as he spoke. "I've got some pretty important stuff I need to take care of. I'll tell you about it when I get back."

  "Oh…all right. Well, make sure you look after yourself." She paused, and then added, "I'll be waiting for you."

  After hanging up, Fang Mu told the driver where he wanted to go, and then suddenly realized that he should probably give Meng Fanzhe's mother a call.

  He dialed her number and the phone rang and rang. No one picked up. It didn't seem right at all, so Fang Mu urged the driver to hurry up.

  They
crossed the city, the streets gradually emptying out. At last the driver stopped in front of a residential neighborhood.

  "Seventeen bucks," the driver said, pointing at the meter. As Fang Mu handed him a 50, he looked off at the nearby apartment buildings.

  "A fifty? You don't have any change?"

  "No, just keep twenty for yourself," said Fang Mu hurriedly, not wanting to delay any longer.

  "Sure thing, boss," said the driver with a smile. "Wait a second, I'll give you a receipt." The printer attached to the meter buzzed to life and spat out a receipt. Ripping it off, the driver handed it to Fang Mu along with 30 renminbi.

  Fang Mu got out and walked inside the Golden Pedestal residential area. The place had obviously been around for a while. The buildings were all made in the old style, with outdoor walkways running alongside the apartments. Squinting, he did his best to make out the cracked and faded building numbers. Luckily the place wasn't that big and he quickly found building six.

  After reaching unit three, Fang Mu carefully climbed the stairs. He soon reached the fourth floor. He looked around. Apartment 402 was to the left, 403 to the right. He walked left and found the apartment all the way at the end of the hall.

  He was met by an old-fashioned wooden door. New Year's blessings from the beginning of 2002 were still stuck to the outside. He knocked lightly. When there was no response, he glanced at the window beside the door. All the lights inside appeared to be off.

  Could she already be asleep?

  Fang Mu knocked again. Still no response. He pulled lightly on the door handle and to his surprise, it opened.

  "Anyone here?" he yelled, sticking his head inside.

  No answer.

  A sense of foreboding suddenly came over Fang Mu. He pulled the dagger from his pocket, unsheathed it, and slowly entered the apartment.

  The apartment was pitch-black. Not a single light was on. Fang Mu stood in the entryway for several seconds. He could vaguely make out a hallway ahead of him. A door was to his left. Through it he could see the dim shapes of a stove and range hood. He assumed it was the kitchen. To his right was a small window. A few potted plants sat on the sill.