Profiler (Fang Mu Eastern Crimes Series Book 1) (50 page)

Cigarette between his fingers, Fang Mu began to read, one page after another.

The murderer was male, aged 30 to 40 and between 5'6" and 5'8". He was strong, agile and right-handed, highly intelligent, a skillful planner and knowledgeable about a wide array of things. He was well-educated and his parents had been strict but not overly so. The early stages of his life had been smooth and successful, and he had developed an arrogant, very competitive personality. He was cautious and self-disciplined. He was financially well-off, took care of his appearance and was a neat dresser. His social skills were excellent, and he most likely lived with other people. He was skilled at driving a car and probably had one of his own, most likely a top model. He was employed in teaching or a related field, was familiar with the
Jiangbin
City
University
campus, and may have worked there as a teacher. He was a master of criminology and criminal psychology, but his medical knowledge – such as his grasp of human anatomy – was less extensive.

After the crimes began, the killer's mental state began to change. At first, his motivation had perhaps been merely to demonstrate his skill in certain areas. But then, as the cops were unable to catch him, and in fact even arrested the wrong person, the arrogant side of his personality grew even stronger. At the same time, however, he probably noticed these psychological changes, and may have even tried to resist them. This would most likely have affected his home life. For instance, the disgust he must have felt at what he was doing probably made him unable to do various things, such as have normal sexual relations (a point which was suggested by the fact that he did not rape Zhang Yao).

In addition, the killer was acquainted with Qiao Yunping, and was both familiar with Fang Mu and understood him very well.

"Criminology Makeup Class."

Fang Mu just happened to see the notice posted in the hall of the
Education
Building
. At first he thought he must have misread, but when he walked closer, he saw that there was indeed going to be a criminology makeup class, and in fact it was scheduled for 8 a.m. that morning.

His heart began beating fast. Could Professor Qiao have returned?

Fang Mu looked at his watch. It was five minutes to eight. With no time to think, he hurried toward the classroom.

But when he reached the entrance, his footsteps slowed. He was filled with hope that as soon as he opened the door, he would see Professor Qiao standing on the dais, about to begin class. After waiting there for several seconds, Fang Mu summoned his courage and pushed open the door.

The dais was empty. The straight-backed, stern-eyed old man was nowhere to be seen.

Moments before the classroom had been filled with noise. Now it went completely silent as all the students turned to look at Fang Mu standing in the doorway. As soon as they realized who it was – not a teacher, just that grad student who often sat in on their classes – they all started talking again. Within moments, the room was once more as noisy as a marketplace. 

Head down, Fang Mu walked to the back row of the classroom. Although he was overwhelmed with disappointment, he still hoped that Professor Qiao was merely late.

Time began to move unbearably slowly. All around Fang Mu, the students were yawning, eating breakfast food they had brought from the cafeteria, and continuously chatting and laughing, all while he stared closely at his watch, watching the minute hand move closer and closer to the 12.

Suddenly footsteps sounded from the hall.

Perhaps no one else was paying attention, but despite the noise in the classroom, Fang Mu heard them clearly.

The sound was steady and full of confidence, the pace nimble yet forceful.

The steps grew closer and closer. Fang Mu held his breath.

The door opened.       

A man walked inside. It was Librarian Sun.

After entering the classroom, Librarian Sun quietly closed the door, scanning the room quickly at the same time. A moment later, he stepped gracefully onto the dais and placed the folder he was carrying onto the lectern.

"All right, let's begin," he said, smiling faintly at the students sitting silently before him. "Because of some personal reasons, Professor Qiao will be unable to finish the semester with you. Therefore, for the three classes you have left, I will be teaching you the science of criminology in his stead."

He grabbed a piece of chalk. "First I should introduce myself. My name is Sun Pu." He turned around and wrote his name on the blackboard. His handwriting was stylish and yet confident. "You can call me Sun Pu, or Old Sun if you'd like."

A burst of soft laughter rippled through the classroom.

After clapping the chalk from his hands, Sun Pu looked up, just in time to lock eyes with Fang Mu who sat dumbstruck in the back row.

Sun Pu smiled and gave him a slight nod.

Class then began. It was obvious that the moment Sun Pu entered the classroom he had won the approval of almost everyone present. Unlike Professor Qiao's old-fashioned, strict and unavoidably stiff teaching style, Sun Pu had a unique method that was humorous and relaxed and still very incisive. He easily drew everyone's attention to himself.

But as for what he was actually teaching, Fang Mu didn't listen to a word. There was only one thought on his mind.

Why is he the one teaching?

When class was over, the students seemed to have developed a newfound interest in criminology and they crowded around Sun Pu and asked him all kinds of questions. Smiling, he patiently answered each one. When he finally returned to the lectern to organize his materials, he discovered that Fang Mu was standing in the doorway waiting for him.

Looking at him, Sun Pu smiled and said, "
Shidi
, you still have a question?"

There were numerous things that Fang Mu had wanted to ask, but at that instant he froze. He could only manage, "
Shidi
?"

"That's right. Professor Qiao never told you?"

"No. This whole time I didn't know that you were also…"

Sun Pu laughed. "There are a lot of things you don't know." He warmly grasped Fang Mu's shoulder, gave it a firm, friendly squeeze, and then pushed him along. "You should get going. If memory serves, you still have two more criminal procedure classes today. You don't want to be late."

Then he turned and walked away, leaving Fang Mu standing there dazed.

For the duration of his two criminal procedure classes, Fang Mu was too distracted to pay attention.

For a long time he had felt like he was standing at the edge of an abyss, doing his utmost to spy the unknowable monster within. Then as the case progressed little by little, the monster slowly began to rise up, its outline growing more and more distinct amid the darkness. And yet there had always been a layer of mist between them, preventing Fang Mu from seeing the beast clearly. All the while, however, he had sensed that the monster was watching him, watching him and laughing to itself. But although the monster was only an arm's length away and Fang Mu could smell the blood on its lips, he had been unable to reach out and touch it.

Now the mist seemed to be growing thinner and thinner.

The dining hall. Lunchtime.

Recently, eating had become nothing more than a burden for Fang Mu. He seemed to have lost all sense of taste. It no longer mattered to him whether he liked something or not; he would order whatever food he could eat fastest.

After carrying his tray to the corner of the dining hall, he sat down and dumped his stewed chicken and potatoes onto his rice. He mixed it up with his spoon and began wolfing it down.

When he happened to look up, he saw several people walk into the cafeteria and head toward one of the booths. Zhao Yonggui and Bian Ping were among them.

Seeing Fang Mu, Bian Ping said something to Zhao Yonggui, who then looked over at Fang Mu as well. Zhao Yonggui then led several people into the booth, while Bian Ping walked toward Fang Mu.

"What are you eating?" Bian Ping asked as he sat down across from Fang Mu. He looked at his bowl. "Stewed chicken and potatoes?" He laughed.

Fang Mu forced himself to smile, but said nothing.

"I always miss the food we used to get here," Bian Ping said. "Although back then we never got anything this good. Still, from the looks of things," he said, pointing at the meager amount of chicken in Fang Mu's bowl, "it seems like even after all these years there hasn't been much progress."

Fang Mu had no interest in making small talk with him. "Has there been any news on Professor Qiao?"

Bian Ping's face fell. "Nothing. That's actually why I'm here today. I wanted to go to the law school and see what was going on."

Fang Mu had nothing to say. His appetite was now gone as well.

"When do you graduate?"

"2004, why?"

Bian Ping snorted and then lit a cigarette. "Then it would seem you're Professor Qiao's most conscientious student."

"Huh? What do you mean by that?"

"None of your fellow students are upset over this like you are. Sure, many of your
shixiong
and
shijie
 are getting terribly worried, but I can tell that what they're most anxious about is that if no one helps them on their theses, they won't be able to graduate."
(Translator
’
s note: Shijie, elder female apprentice.)
He tapped his cigarette ash on the floor, causing a dining hall worker who was walking past to glare at him. "The top people at the law school asked me to come teach some classes, but when would I have the time to do that? So in the end, Mrs. Qiao recommended someone else for the job."

"Sun Pu?"

"Hey, how'd you know?" Bian Ping's eyes widened with surprise.

"I just sat in on his criminology class this morning. I also heard that he's my
shixiong
?"

"That's right. He graduated with a masters in '91. I was '86."

"Then why…did he start working in the library?"

"Oh, that's a long story…" Bian Ping smiled bitterly and shook his head.

Just then Zhao Yonggui squeezed out of the booth and waved Bian Ping over.

"All right," Bian Ping said, seeing his gesture, "I'll be there in a second." He looked back at Fang Mu. "
Shidi
, there was something serious I wanted to talk to you about for a moment. Professor Qiao thought very highly of you, you know. He told me more than once that you were quite gifted, and I also believe that you've got a real talent for this stuff. So then how about it? Want to come work for us after you graduate?"

Fang Mu shook his head. "I've never thought of becoming a policeman."

Bian Ping looked a little disappointed. "Eh, everyone has their own aspirations. However, if you did join the police, I believe you'd be fulfilling Professor Qiao's wishes." He stood up and patted Fang Mu on the shoulder. "Take it easy. If there's any news I'll contact you."

After leaving the dining hall, Fang Mu stood outside for a few minutes. At last he decided to head over to Professor Qiao's house.

Mrs. Qiao was the only person home. As soon as Fang My walked inside, he smelled the strong odor of some kind of traditional Chinese medicine.

"Are you sick, Mrs. Qiao?" he asked as he walked into the kitchen. A very small clay pot was on the stove, filled with a bubbling liquid and sending up steam.

"
Aye
, how could I not be sick?" she said as he came in.

In the few days since Fang Mu had last seen her, Mrs. Qiao had lost a lot of weight, and her hair was nearly all white.

"You came just in time; in a moment you can help me strain this medicine." She sighed. "I'm sorry there was no one here to greet you. Little Yu left to look for her father again. Now can I get you something to drink?"

Fang Mu hurriedly told her not to worry about it. Then after helping her to lie down on her bed, he rushed back into the kitchen, sieved the medicine into a bowl, and brought it back to her.