Profiler

CHAPTER 25

The victim was a 23-year-old girl from the city of Kaifeng in Henan province. She had been an English language grad student in the Jiangbin City University Foreign Language Department's class of 2003. The cause of death was mechanical asphyxiation, the murder weapon likely a hemp rope. The victim's hymen had already been broken prior to the night of her murder and there was no sign of rape. According to the autopsy and the testimony of the victim's friends, her time of death was determined to have been between 1 a.m. and 5 a.m. on December 25. After the victim was strangled to death, heavy makeup was applied to her face, and then her body was placed in the JiangbinCityUniversity outdoor pool and her ankle was tied to the drain with a hemp rope. The pool was then filled with water.

According to an examination of the scene, the killer used a hammer-like tool to smash the lock on the pool gate so he could transport the body inside. No fingerprints or footprints were found at the scene.

According to the victim's schoolmates and boyfriend, the yellow tube top, short leather skirt, black platforms, and blonde wig that she was wearing when discovered did not belong to her. Her original clothes were not found at the scene.

In addition, a piece of paper was found inside the platform shoes that the victim was wearing. Because it had been underwater for a long time, the writing was unclear. However, it was later identified as a page from the sixth edition of a fourth grade Language and Literature summer reading textbook published by the People's Education Press. This page in particular was from Resplendent Sunset.

According to the victim's boyfriend, on the night before the murder he received two strange phone calls, after which he and the victim got into an argument and she left alone. The police soon located the phone number in question at the telecommunications bureau. They discovered it had never been used to make any other calls besides those two that night. After further investigating the number, they found that it had been purchased from a private seller, and as a result no identification was needed to be shown. Therefore, it is be impossible to determine who had made those two calls.

"Right now, this is all I've found. The case is being handled by Old Zhao and his men, so I had to pull a few favors to even learn this much." Tai Wei passed the case folder to Fang Mu. They were in Fang Mu's dorm room, going through what they could of the evidence report available to them. "Oh, and there's another thing. Over the last few days I've gone to several hospitals around the city, including the one where Ma Kai was treated, and looked into the psychologists they have on staff. You should know, though, that right now I'm only able to investigate this on my own, so my effectiveness is limited. Up 'til now I haven't found anything of value."

Fang Mu smiled at him. "Thank you," he said.

Tai Wei just carelessly waved his hand.

You still believe in me. I can tell, even if you don't say it aloud.

"How's it going over here?" Tai Wei asked. "Any progress?"

Fang Mu looked down at one of the pictures in the folder. In it, a seductively dressed Zhang Yao lay beside the freezing pool.

"What does an outfit like this make you think of?" asked Fang Mu, showing the picture to Tai Wei.

Tai Wei didn't mince words. "A prostitute. This is the classic sex worker getup."

"That's correct." Fang Mu nodded. "This time he was copying the Green River Killer."

"The Green River Killer?"

"That's right. Do you still remember those two symbols I told you about? The ones that were written on the window of Meng Fanzhe's home?" Fang Mu grabbed a piece of paper and sketched something on it. "At the time I thought he had written a lowercase q and an uppercase A. Later I realized I was mistaken, and in fact he had written GR, both uppercase. Because the letters were written on a condensation-covered window, when the water drops slid down it made them look like a q and an A."

"GR? Green River?"

"Exactly. The Green River murders began in 1982 in Seattle, Washington, in the United States. The killer was named Gary Ridgeway. In total he killed over forty-nine people, the majority of them female prostitutes and young women who had run away from home," Fang Mu said. "The bodies of his first few victims he dumped in the Green River, which was located in the southern outskirts of Seattle. The person who discovered the first victim said it looked like she was standing in the middle of the river. This was because the killer had wedged her legs into a crack between some rocks on the river bottom." He shivered. "This was identical to what I saw in the pool that day. Beginning in 1987, the police made Ridgeway their prime suspect, but because they had no evidence and he was twice able to pass a lie detector test, he managed to get off scot-free. Then DNA testing began to be used in criminal investigations. Last year, the police compared a sample of his saliva with the semen that was found in one of the victims. It was a perfect match. Still, even after his arrest, Ridgeway has continued to deny his guilt. Because several of his initial victims were found in the Green River, and because Ridgeway's initials are G.R., he is known as the Green River Killer."

Tai Wei frowned in thought. "The majority of the victims were prostitutes… Is that why Zhang Yao was made to look that way?"

Fang Mu nodded. He flipped through the case files in his hands. "Just now you said that the victim wasn't raped that night?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Hmm, this is rather interesting," said Fang Mu, deep in thought. "It was Ridgeway's custom to have sex with his victim's before strangling them to death. So if the killer wanted to perfectly copy his crimes, why didn't he have sex with Zhang Yao?"

"There could be a ton of reasons for this. Time, place — perhaps even the killer's mood." Tai Wei chuckled, but then immediately realized that it was inappropriate. His smiled disappeared.

"Mood?" Fang Mu gave a grim smile. "He wanted to destroy me mentally. Now perhaps he, too, is reaching his breaking point."

He reached out and grabbed one of the photographs. It was of the excerpt that had been found in Zhang Yao's shoe.

"Resplendent Sunset?" Fang Mu looked the photograph over. "I remember reading this when I was a kid. I think it was written by Xiao Hong."

Tai Wei moved closer. "You think this is a clue to the killer's next crime?"

Fang Mu thought for a moment. "If nothing else unusual was found at the scene, then yes, tentatively, I believe we can regard it as one. What's the police opinion on the excerpt?"

After hesitating for a moment, Tai Wei said, "Zhao Yonggui believes the paper fell inside the shoe by accident. Therefore, he thinks that there's a kid in the killer's household who's currently attending elementary school. As for the rest of it, I'm not too sure." Tai Wei sighed. "Old Zhao doesn't really want me to take part in this case. Not that he has anything to worry about though — it's already under the jurisdiction of the State Enterprise Investigative Division. At this point all I can do is using some of my connections to find out what's going on."

"All right, then I'll look it up online." Fang Mu sat in front of his computer and searched for the text of Resplendent Sunset. Once he found it, he began reading it slowly and carefully.

Seeming a little bored, Tai Wei grabbed a book from the shelf and flipped through it. He then stood in front of the window, took out a cigarette, and began to smoke.

"Not many people out on campus today," he said.

"Yeah, exams are coming up soon," said Fang Mu absently, his eyes not leaving the screen. "They're probably all inside studying."

"Are you going to have exams soon, too?"

"Huh? Oh, graduate students don't have exams." Smiling without real humor, Fang Mu patted the monitor. "This is my exam."

Tai Wei just shook his head.

Fang Mu's attention returned to the screen, but now he seemed unable to absorb anything he was reading.

Exam?

"Tai Wei…"

Tai Wei had been staring at a tall, beautiful girl standing outside the building, and it took him a moment to register that Fang Mu was talking to him. His voice sounded a little shaky.

"Yeah?" Tai Wei turned around.

Fang Mu was staring at him, his face wearing an inscrutable expression. "I think we've been ignoring something very obvious."

"Oh? What's that?" Tai Wei was suddenly all ears.

"Tell me, what kind of person devises problems to test other people?"

"That's obvious; a teacher, of course." Although Tai Wei casually blurted it out, his eyes immediately widened. "Are you saying that the killer is a teacher at the school?"

Fang Mu nodded. "It's a definite possibility."

"Now hold up." Tai Wei's eyebrows knitted together as he feverishly pondered something. "Previously you said that our man is most likely between the ages of thirty and forty, well-educated, financially stable and clean cut, with a jealous, competitive personality, correct?"

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"In that case, there are way too many people like this on your campus. In my experience, practically all college professors fit this profile."

"We might not know who it is," said Fang Mu, pulling on his jacket, "but I know someone who might. Follow me!"

It was Professor Qiao who opened the door. Although he didn't seem surprised by Fang Mu's sudden visit, his expression shifted slightly when he saw Tai Wei was standing behind him.

He pointed at the slippers placed beside the door, and then turned and walked alone into the study.

After removing their shoes and putting on slippers, Fang Mu and Tai Wei followed after him. Professor Qiao had already lit a cigarette and was sitting on the couch, smoking gloomily, his expression somber.

Seeing the professor's mood, Fang Mu didn't quite know what to say. Tai Wei was first to speak. "Teacher Qiao… Oh, I mean Professor Qiao, how are you, sir?" he said politely. "I'm Tai Wei from the city bureau. This is my police ID."

Professor Qiao didn't even turn his head, just made a brief sound of recognition. Nor did he take the police ID that Tai Wei was holding out for him.

Tai Wei's arm hung awkwardly in the air for several seconds. Miffed, he angrily pulled it back. Seeing that Fang Mu wasn't talking, he poked him hard in the side.

Given no choice, Fang Mu forced himself to say, "Professor Qiao, there is something I wanted to ask your advice about."

"Yes?"

Fang Mu looked at Tai Wei. Then, summoning his courage, he said, "Professor Qiao, do you know anyone on this campus who's fairly adept at psychological analysis?"

Professor Qiao tapped out the ash from his cigarette. "I do."

"Who?" Fang Mu asked. Both his and Tai Wei's ears pricked up at once.

"Me." Professor Qiao paused. "And you."

At once the air in the study seemed to solidify.

Fang Mu stammered: "I…what I was trying to say…"

"That I already know." Professor Qiao then placed the butt of his cigarette in the ashtray on the table, grabbed a book, and began to turn its pages.

When Fang Mu and Tai Wei saw this, they had no choice but to turn to take their leave.

Tai Wei did not look pleased at all. Without even saying goodbye, he left. Fang Mu followed. Tai Wei angrily pulled on his shoes and pounded down the stairs.

After putting on his shoes, Fang Mu looked up to see Professor Qiao standing in front of him. He was watching Fang Mu, his expression meaningful.

"Professor…I…think I'm going to be leaving now," Fang Mu excused hesitantly.

Professor Qiao suddenly reached out and placed one hand on Fang Mu's shoulder. He squeezed it tightly.

"Take care of yourself," he said, then his voice went quiet. "This will all be over soon."

This said, he pushed Fang Mu out the door and then slammed it behind him.

Tai Wei was waiting for Fang Mu in his jeep outside. As soon as Fang Mu got in, Tai Wei stepped angrily on the gas, and the jeep immediately lurched forward.

"That old guy was obviously screwing with us," said Tai Wei, honking impatiently at the bicyclist in front of them. "You think he could be the killer?"

"Don't talk nonsense." Fang Mu was still thinking about the last thing Professor Qiao had said.

"This will all be over soon."

Was it possible that he already knew who the killer was, and was about to bring him to justice?

Previously when Fang Mu had learned that Professor Qiao was joining the investigation, he had felt greatly reassured. Now, however, he didn't feel relaxed in the slightest. Rather, he was even more anxious.

Tai Wei pulled up in front of Fang Mu's dormitory. After Fang Mu got out, Tai Wei turned to him and said, "It looks like we're gonna have to investigate this ourselves. Shit, before this was all easy. But now that I can't look into anything openly, I'm just going to have to investigate things on my own."

"All right. Well, you'd better start by looking into whether any teachers also work in the counseling centers of any of the city hospitals."

"Yeah, I got it. And you be careful." Tai Wei started up the jeep and drove off.

Fang Mu watched as Tai Wei's jeep disappeared around the corner. He looked up at the sky. Huge, lead-black clouds were rolling overhead, seeming to indicate that a blizzard was quietly approaching.

As soon as Fang Mu reached the third floor corridor, he saw that several guys were standing outside Room 313 and sticking their heads through the open door.

Fang Mu's heart skipped a beat. Had something happened to Du Yu?

He walked quickly over. Seeing him coming, several of the students parted to give him a path to the door.

Inside the room, Du Yu was sitting in his chair with his head drooped and a stubbly beard on his face. His pant legs were covered with mud. In front of him stood a man who Fang Mu recognized from the law school office. He was yelling at Du Yu and gesturing wildly.

"If you get caught walking around in the middle of the night with this thing in your possession again, you won't just be dealing with campus security! No, I'll make sure you get sent straight to the police!" He slammed a box-cutter down on the desk. "Trying to get revenge, huh? You think you're going to be able to catch the killer all by yourself? You're just a law student! If you could take him out, then what would we need the police for?"

Du Yu raised his head to argue, but when he saw Fang Mu standing in the doorway, the words caught in his throat and he just stared at him.

Fang Mu looked at the puffy, black and blue bruises covering Du Yu's face. He was about to say something, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out, so he just turned and walked away.

In the middle of the night, the snow finally began to fall.

When Fang Mu happened to look up from his computer screen where he was intensely scrutinizing the textbook excerpt, he saw that the sill outside his window had already accumulated a thick layer of snow.

Picking up a cup of water that had long since gotten cold, he walked over to the window and watched the snowflakes dance and swirl through the air.

His heart suddenly grew warm.

After people die, do their souls live on?

If they do, then Chen Xi, Fourth Brother, Wang Jian…

Help me…

Someone knocked on the door.

Who could it be this late? he wondered.

Grabbing his knife from under the pillow, he tiptoed over and put his ear to the door. He could hear the sound of heavy breathing outside.

"Who is it?"

After several seconds of silence, the person outside said, "It's me."

It was Du Yu's voice.

Fang Mu hesitated for a moment and then opened the door.

A heavy smell of alcohol wafted inside. Du Yu stood in the doorway, his hair disheveled and his face haggard. The bruises on his face looked terrible.

Fang Mu moved to the side and waved for him to come in. As soon as Du Yu walked through the door, he stumbled and then crashed into the doorframe. Fang Mu quickly went to help him, but Du Yu just pushed his hands away. He teetered into the room and sat heavily on the bed across from Fang Mu's.

Du Yu was haggard and unkempt, the stark bruises on his face adding to his miserable appearance. He was gasping for breath, constantly belching from the alcohol. Fang Mu gave him a cup of hot water. Du Yu grabbed it without a word of thanks and downed it in one gulp. Fang Mu tried to stop him, but it was already too late. The water had been nearly 150 degrees, but Du Yu didn't seem to have noticed in the least.

Fang Mu sat down on his bed.

After they had each drunk a cup of water, the two of them silently faced each other from their opposite beds. The space between them was less than nine feet across, but it seemed as impassable as a bottomless abyss.

After a long time, Du Yu cleared his throat and asked hoarsely, "You find him?"

Fang Mu slowly shook his head and said, "Don't pull any more of this crap."

Du Yu sunk once more into silence. A moment later he began to suddenly wail. He buried his head between his knees and tore at his hair. The veins on his hands were all sticking out, as were several wounds that hadn't yet healed. He continued his mournful cry, his voice rising until it was almost a scream, sounding like something being broken apart.

Fang Mu stood and walked over and put one hand on Du Yu's shoulder.

Do you remember how you once put your hand on my shoulder like this?

But Du Yu swung his arm and pushed Fang Mu's hand off him. "Get away!"

Du Yu cried for 10 minutes straight. At last he stopped as suddenly as he had begun.

After grabbing Fang Mu's tissues, he tore off a few pieces and wiped his eyes. He loudly blew his nose and threw the tissues on the floor. He climbed to his feet and walked to the door.

He turned around and said quietly, "When you find him, tell me first." He paused. "If you're still alive, that is." Then he opened the door and walked out.

Fang Mu remained sitting on the bed with his head down until the sound of Du Yu's steps disappeared at the other end of the corridor. He looked up at his closed door. "…Okay."

The room was silent again, as if the visitor from a moment ago had never even been there. Suddenly the room began to feel a little stuffy, so Fang Mu stood up and opened the window a crack.

A strong, snowy wind immediately burst inside, blowing the papers on the desk into the air, where they spun for a moment and then floated to the floor all across the room.

He quickly slammed the window shut as snow rapped against the glass, the flakes seemingly very proud of this surprise attack.

All of the documents that had been on Fang Mu's desk were now scattered about — on the bed, on the floor, all over the place.

After picking them up one by one, Fang Mu discovered he was missing a page. When he looked again, he found that it had floated under the bed.

Crouching down, Fang Mu reached as far as he could under the bed, but he still couldn't grab it.

He looked around the room, but there was no long stick or anything he could use to pull it out. Sighing, he crawled under the bed.

The space underneath was not covered with dust as he had imagined. Instead, as he felt around, he found that there was only a thin layer of the stuff.

His breath caught in his throat at the realization. After pulling out the piece of paper, he grabbed his lighter from the desk and crawled back under the bed.

As the flame burst from the tip of the lighter, the narrow space beneath the bed was illuminated. Moving the light about, he discovered that while there was a thick layer of dust beneath the corners of the bed, the area underneath its middle was quite clean, as if someone had made a point of sweeping it.

Fang Mu looked closely at the clean portion of the floor. He slowly rolled over and lay on his back.

As he held the lighter up to the underside of the bed, shadows fell across several places where the surface appeared uneven.

Fang Mu's eyes suddenly went wide.

All across the bed board a single name had been carved over and over again: Meng Fanzhe.

Some of the characters were written almost neatly, as if they had been carved with a knife. Others were very rough, as if they had been scratched out with a key or something similar.

From the look of things, Meng Fanzhe had not done them all at once.

He twisted about under the bed, shifting his position. Soon he discovered that under the head and foot of the bed Meng Fanzhe's name was written as well.

Fang Mu suddenly realized that during the final days when Meng Fanzhe had lived alone in the room, he had probably crawled under the bed like he was doing now and, trembling, had carved his name into the bed board over and over again.

After lying there for some time, Fang Mu crawled out from under the bed, shaken. Now dust-covered, he sat in the chair and zoned out.

After a few moments of internal debate, he suddenly leapt up and ran to the door.

Throwing it open, he burst into the hallway and looked at the number on the door.

As expected, between the 3, the 0, and the 4, he saw two faint marks. From the look of them, they appeared to be "+" signs.

Someone had made a point of erasing these two marks, but for some reason they hadn't been completely removed. Still, if one didn't look closely, the marks could easily be overlooked.

Just as he had thought. Someone had been controlling Meng Fanzhe.

Seven hours later, Fang Mu and Tai Wei were sitting together in the room.

Tai Wei washed his hands in the washbasin and patted the dust off his body.

"Hypnotized?" he said.

"Yes, I think that's a definite possibility."

"Are you saying that everything Meng Fanzhe did that night was the result of hypnosis? Including writing the plus signs between the three-one-three on your door, and then trying to kill you? Can it really be that powerful?"

"A person can be hypnotized into doing various simple things, but getting them to kill one person in particular is probably outside the realm of possibility." Seeing the puzzled look on Tai Wei's face, Fang Mu clarified: "Meng Fanzhe did not intentionally write the plus signs on my door, nor was his attempt to kill me premeditated. Do you remember how he paused briefly while he was following me that night?"

Frowning, Tai Wei thought back. "Yeah, I do remember something like that happening. He stopped for a little while when he was in the hallway. And you know what? I think it was right outside the door to this room."

"That's right. Now take a look at this."

After leading Tai Wei out into the hallway, Fang Mu pointed at the light marks on his door number.

Tai Wei stared at them, dumbstruck. "My God," he mumbled to himself. "At the time we just looked at your room number. We didn't pay any attention to this one."

"This shows that Meng Fanzhe did not purposefully choose me for his target. Instead, he was merely instructed to search the hallway for the number seven." Fang Mu pointed down either end of the hall. "Right here we have rooms three-hundred-one to three-twenty. Three-twenty-one is the bathroom and three-twenty-two and up are all in a separate section behind a locked door, so he couldn't get to them. Therefore, the only room numbers that could form seven were three-hundred-four and three-thirteen."

"So when he tried to kill you, was that also a result of the hypnosis?"

"At first I was really puzzled by this, too, because like I said, hypnotizing someone into killing a target should be just about impossible. Then I saw the names carved under the bed."

Tai Wei frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just wait a minute; first I'm going to give you a simple explanation of what hypnosis is, " Fang Mu decided. "Hypnosis is mainly about causing neurological, biological, and physiological changes through psychological suggestion. For example, hypnosis can be used to cure anxiety and depression and eliminate phobias. It is an extremely complex process and often requires that the hypnotist use various kinds of suggestive signals to help his subject enter a hypnotized state."

"Oh, this stuff I already know," Tai Wei said. "There's a Japanese movie called Hypnosis in which the suggestive signal was something like the sound of metal striking metal."

"Right. Now there's also something called post-hypnotic suggestion. This is when the hypnotist provides his subject with a signal that can still cause him to react even when he is no longer hypnotized. For this post-hypnotic suggestion to remain effective, the subject must have a tremendous amount of trust in his hypnotist and must subconsciously recognize the authority of this signal. From what I know, Meng Fanzhe was someone with a vulnerable psyche, making it very easy for him to become psychologically dependent on other people. In other words, he was an ideal candidate for post-hypnotic suggestion. From that night on, I always suspected that Meng Fanzhe had received this sort of post-hypnotic suggestion therapy, but I could never figure out what the signal was. That was, until I discovered the names."

"Are you saying that those names were the suggestive signal?"

"Correct. Meng Fanzhe had a secret that nobody knew about. He was scared of roll call," Fang Mu said. "Most likely nothing else was impressed as deeply on his mind than his own name. At some point he must have gone to see the killer — in his role as the so-called doctor — for psychotherapy. The killer probably then used Meng Fanzhe's fear of roll call to turn his name into a post-hypnotic suggestive signal. There was one time before that night when I spoke to Meng Fanzhe in the bathroom and discovered that when I said his name, he would undergo a very unusual emotional reaction. Then on the night when he tried to kill me, I initially said a few words to him and he barely even responded; but as soon as I called out his name, he suddenly attacked."

"Hey, I just thought of something," said Tai Wei, his face lighting up. "You remember that night in the city bureau, when we were trying to interrogate Meng Fanzhe? At first he didn't respond at all to any of our questions, but then when one of our interrogators said his name, he went absolutely crazy."

"Exactly. I'm thinking that the killer designed the suggestive signal so that when Meng Fanzhe heard his name, he would attack whoever said it."

For a moment Tai Was lost in thought. He pointed under bed. "So then what was the point of him repeatedly carving his name into the bed board?"

Fang Mu thought about this. "In the days before the incident, Meng Fanzhe had probably begun to realize that something wasn't quite right with his mental state. He once told me that he would often forget where he had been or what he had done, and couldn't remember how a bunch of strange things had appeared in his room — meaning all the evidence you guys found. I'm guessing the killer had also hypnotized him into bringing this stuff back. As a result, I believe he had started to become frightened of himself, and especially of his name. And when people are frightened, they will often choose to hide. The space under this bed," he said, patting the bed board beneath him, "was most likely his hiding place. The thing is, he was probably also pretty dissatisfied with how everything was going. Previously, with the help of this doctor, he had nearly overcome the psychological dysfunction relating to his name. So he forced himself to write his name over and over on the bed board, hoping to convince himself that he wasn't scared of it after all."

Fang Mu paused, and then said quietly, "At that point he must have had a very complex relationship with the doctor, doubting him and depending on him at the same time. That's why he wrote his mom the letter."

In a flash, Fang Mu could almost hear the sound of someone under the bed: breathing rapidly, crying softly, and scratching something out onto the bed board, all the while mumbling indistinctly: "Meng Fanzhe, Meng Fanzhe, Meng Fanzhe…"

Fang Mu clenched his fists.

Frowning, Tai Wei smoked a cigarette and said nothing.

Fang Mu watched him. "How about it? You think this evidence will convince the bureau to reopen the case?"

"I'm afraid it will be very difficult." Tai Wei paused to think for a moment. "First, you were the only person to know about that letter and the GR written on the windowpane. Second, because it seems superficial that the sixth and seventh crimes have already been committed, it would be very tough for the bureau to accept that, in fact, the sixth-lane murder was the killer's actual completion of his sixth crime. And besides, as you well know, the bureau is still firmly of the opinion that you should not be participating in the investigation. So no matter what you say, it's unlikely anyone will believe it."

A dejected look crossed Fang Mu's face.

Seeing his expression, Tai Wei couldn't help but feel for the kid. He patted him on the shoulder.

"Anyway," he said, "did you find anything in that textbook excerpt?"

"Nothing so far." Fang Mu shook his head. "I can't tell you how many times I've scrutinized that thing without finding a single clue." He grabbed a book from his shelf and handed it to Tai Wei. "I took the book that the excerpt came from out of the library, hoping that I might find something. It's called Legends of the Hulan River."

Tai Wei weighed the book in his hands. It didn't feel that heavy. But when he opened it and saw how small the printing was inside, he couldn't help but lose heart. "Jeez, it would take forever to find a clue in here."

"I'm also going to check out the textbook that this excerpt came from. Maybe I'll be able to find something in there."

Tai Wei paused to think for a moment. "You think the killer might have written the clue directly onto the excerpt with disappearing ink or something?"

"I don't think so," Fang Mu said quickly, as if he had long since considered this possibility. "He would have known that the paper would be submerged for some time, and if the ink couldn't reappear then there would be no point of writing it in the first place. I think the clue most likely has something to do with the excerpt itself."

"Jeez, who would have thought that an elementary school textbook would contain the clue to a murder?" Tai Wei stood up and stretched. Suddenly he stopped and said, "You think the next victim is going to be a fourth-grader?"

Fang Mu smiled grimly. "Who knows? Anything is possible."

He looked at the mountain of documents stacked beside his computer. "From tests I've taken in the past, I remember that the last question is frequently the hardest. The teacher would always tell us to first do the easier ones, and then if we still had time, to summon our energy and attempt the final problem."

What was the answer to the seventh question?

It was another cold and dry early winter's morning. Backpack on his back, Fang Mu hurried toward the EducationBuilding. The campus was just as bustling as ever. After slacking off all semester the students were finally getting serious. Final exams were almost there.

During first and second period that day, Professor Qiao had been teaching undergraduate criminology. Because there had been no criminology courses at Changhong City Teacher's College, Fang Mu made a point to sit in whenever he could.

In addition, he hadn't seen Professor Qiao since that time in his apartment. His final sentence, "This will all be over soon," had been making Fang Mu nervous ever since. He really wanted to speak with the professor, but even if they couldn't talk, Fang Mu hoped that Professor Qiao might still give him some unspoken clue.

The classroom was much fuller than usual. Since exams were coming up, students were of the mind that they would be penalized if they didn't show up.

Fang Mu sat down in one of the corners of the room. Recognizing him, some students pointed in his direction, but he just pretended to not see them.

It was already after 8 a.m. and the professor still hadn't showed up.

Up until that point the students had been quietly awaiting the start of class, but now they began to get a little noisy. At 8:15, there was still no sign of Professor Qiao. Some of the more impatient students demanded that the class monitor call him up and see what was going on.

Holding his phone, the class monitor ran into the hall and dialed. He returned a moment later. "His phone's off."

"The dean's office, call the dean's office," someone suggested.

At 8:30, someone from the dean's office hurried into the classroom and announced that class was canceled for the day.

Groaning, the students quickly packed up their stuff and then streamed out of the classroom. Before long, Fang Mu was the only person left.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Professor Qiao's cell. It was off.

He tried his home number. Busy.

He dialed it again and again, but it was busy every time.

An ominous feeling suddenly came over Fang Mu.

That afternoon, his feeling finally became reality.

One of Professor Qiao's older graduate students, who was getting ready to graduate, came to see Fang Mu and asked him if he knew the professor's whereabouts. When Fang Mu shook his head, the older grad student grew anxious.

"Shit, man, I haven't finished my thesis yet and now he's missing? I think I might have to temporarily change advisors."

The snide comment made Fang Mu suddenly wanted to curse at the guy. But before he could open his mouth, the grad student had walked off.

Forcing himself to calm down, Fang Mu grabbed his phone and dialed Professor Qiao's home number again. It was still busy.

He kept trying. At last he got through.

A worried-sounding woman picked up the phone. "Hello? Who's this?" It was Mrs. Qiao.

"Hi, Mrs. Qiao, it's me, Fang Mu. Is Professor Qiao around?" he asked.

Mrs. Qiao began to softly cry. "Old Qiao hasn't been home for a day and a half…"

"What?" Fang Mu felt as if his heart had been suddenly squeezed in an iron grip.

Professor Qiao was missing.