Lei Mi - Profiler

But now the professor had vanished, his fate unknown. And Fang Mu felt more alone and despairing than ever before.

Sitting in a small street-side restaurant, Tai Wei smoked a cigarette and looked at Fang Mu. The kid was incredibly disheveled.

"Why don't you have a few more bites?" Tai Wei said.

The bowl of soup in front of Fang Mu was still half-full of noodles. Listening to Tai Wei, he picked it up and took several sips.

Tai Wei had met Fang Mu in front of one of the city department stores. At the time, the kid had been eating a piece of bread while scanning the faces of everyone who walked by. It was a cold, windy day, but he hadn't seemed to notice. "You want to order something else?"

Fang Mu shook his head.

Tai Wei studied the unkempt young man sitting before him. It had only been a few days since he'd last seen him, but already the kid seemed much skinnier. His big down coat looked huge on him. Seeing him searching his pockets, Tai Wei pushed the pack of cigarettes that he'd placed on the table toward him.

Fang Mu took out a cigarette, lit it, and then smoked it silently.

Tai Wei sighed.

"I'm telling you, brother, the way you're searching is no kind of method. If you're not careful, you're going to collapse before we even find him."

Fang Mu was silent for a moment. Then he asked, "How are things going on your end?"

"Still no news." Tai Wei shook his head. "This thing is mainly being investigated by the local stations, but Chief Bian Ping from the provincial PSB also pulled a lot of strings and sent people to search outside the city. However, no one's found a thing."

Seeing the news made Fang Mu even more upset, Tai Wei quickly added, "Now don't start thinking anything crazy. If Professor Qiao really did have some kind of accident, someone would definitely have reported it. Therefore, I think he either got sick out of nowhere, or suddenly went senile — which, given his age, really wouldn't be that hard to imagine."

After hesitating for a moment, Fang Mu told Tai Wei what Professor Qiao had said to him that afternoon.

Tai Wei didn't say anything for a long time, just took several vicious drags from his cigarette and then forcefully stubbed it out. "This old guy definitely knows the killer. He tried to protect him, and then got trapped himself!"

Fang Mu didn't like hearing that. "Professor Qiao wouldn't do something like that!"

"Okay, okay, okay." Tai Wei had no desire to argue over the point at the moment. "This is a very important clue. I'm going to discuss it with Zhao Yonggui. I don't care if it pisses him off." He stood up. "Fang Mu, have you forgotten what you're best at?"

Fang Mu frowned. "Huh?"

"Finding people isn't your forte; profiling them is." Tai Wei bent over and stared at him so closely that their noses almost touched. "Let us find Professor Qiao. You need to head back and get some sleep. When you wake up, I want you to make me a profile of this guy." He patted Fang Mu on the shoulder. "Right now you're our last hope."

Their last hope?

Fang Mu was back in his dorm room. As he looked at the documents stacked across nearly every inch of his desk, his spirits suddenly fell.

Tai Wei hadn't been consoling him with what he said — he had been pressuring him. The subtext was clear: If Professor Qiao really had gone to look for the killer, then things did not bode well for him.

Still, he completely agreed with Tai Wei's point of view; they needed to find the killer as soon as possible — for it was the killer himself, not Professor Qiao — who was the crux of the matter. As long as they found him, then they would be able to locate Professor Qiao as well, whether he was alive or dead.

Saving the professor or avenging his death — these things would have to wait. Right now the only thing Fang Mu could do was find the killer.

But when faced with the mountain of documents on his desk, he just sat there dully for over half an hour, unable to absorb a single word.

Over the past few days, he had been so tormented by such excruciating sadness, rage, guilt, and despair that his nerves had reached their breaking point. Now he could barely do a thing. The skill he had once had for perceiving criminal psychology seemed to have vanished.

You need to calm down , thought Fang Mu, as he forcefully massaged his temples.

He lit a cigarette and then forced himself to focus on the materials in front of him.

But instead his eyes fell on the Zippo lighter in his hands.

He repeatedly clicked it open and closed, the sound echoing in his room.

It was the first gift Deng Linyue had ever given him, and it would also be the last.

So whether because of its price or its emotional significance, it should have been precious to him.

And yet Fang Mu had always seen it as just a tool to light his cigarettes or perhaps to shine his way in the dark.

Many things only seemed important in life because of the special significance and sentiments people attached to them. Disconnected from all of this, a limited edition Eternal Star Zippo was no more useful than a one-renminbi plastic lighter.

It was true of people, too.

Liu Jianjun, Meng Fanzhe, Zhang Yao, and now perhaps Qiao Yunping. They were all just victims.

As for me, I'm a psychological profiler.

Fang Mu opened one of the case folders and was met with a picture of Zhang Yao's lifeless face.

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 JiangbinCityUniversity 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 EducationBuilding. 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.