Profiler

CHAPTER 26

Professor Qiao's house was packed full of people. The living room, which was already small to begin with, felt terribly crowded.

There were classmates from Fang Mu's year, as well as some of the professor's older male and female graduate students. Bian Ping, the top-ranking officer from the provincial PSB, was there, too, and when he saw Fang Mu come in he gave him a slight nod.

Fang Mu nodded back at him. Unable to wait any longer, he walked over to the sofa where Mrs. Qiao was drying her eyes. He asked her: "Mrs. Qiao, what happened?"

Her eyes already red from crying, Mrs. Qiao choked back a sob. "The night before last, Old Qiao told me he was going out to see a friend and then left without saying who it was. I waited up for him until after eleven, and when he still hadn't returned, I called his phone, but it was off. I assumed he had probably gone out to dinner and then to a public bathhouse, so I went to sleep. He didn't return all day yesterday, and his phone was still off. I thought he must have gone straight to school, but no one there had seen him, either. Up until now there's been no news at all…"

Suddenly the phone rang and Mrs. Qiao, who only a moment before seemed to have lost all her strength, practically dove for it and grabbed it from the cradle: "Hello? Hello…" Her voice fell. "You bought your ticket? …Tonight? Good, come home and help me find your dad. …Yes, okay, okay."

At last, after hanging up the phone, Mrs. Qiao could no longer control herself, and she began to sob uncontrollably.

Bian Ping stood up and helped her to the couch, consoling her softly.

"You told Qiao Yu to come home?"

"Yes." Mrs. Qiao took Bian Ping's hand. "Little Bian, promise me you'll help me find Professor Qiao. He's an old man; if something bad were to happen to him…"

"Don't think like that, Mrs. Qiao," Bian Ping said quickly. "There's no reason to believe that anything has happened to Professor Qiao. Perhaps…perhaps he just went off somewhere to investigate a case." Then as if he realized that this didn't sound very persuasive, he hurriedly added, "I've already sent my men to look for him; we should be hearing some news soon."

But when the other people around her echoed these words, Mrs. Qiao only seemed to be even more at a loss.

Visitors kept pouring in, the dean of the law school and the president of the university among them. When the phone rang again, Mrs. Qiao once more grabbed it with a look of hope on her face, but as soon as she heard the caller's voice she was once more disappointed.

"Yes… Then you should come by, Little Sun. Okay, see you soon."

Another visitor was on their way over.

After looking around the room, Bian Ping said to the students, "You should all head back. We'll let you know if there's any news."

One after another the students said their goodbyes and left. When Fang Mu walked to the door, he suddenly remembered what Professor Qiao had said to him when they were standing in that same spot only a few days before. Turning to Bian Ping, he said, "Chief Bian, if there's any news, please let me know as soon as possible."

At the moment Bian Ping was speaking to the university president, so he just waved at Fang Mu and said, "I will."

After he returned to his dorm, Fang Mu sat beside his bed and was soon lost in thought. He didn't move until it was almost nightfall.

He couldn't help but connect Professor Qiao's disappearance with what he had said to him.

"Take care of yourself. This will all be over soon."

Unless Fang Mu was wrong, then Professor Qiao seemed to know who the killer was.

Had he tried to catch him single-handedly, and then…?

It was a scenario that Fang Mu was unwilling to consider.

By the time the police began officially investigating the matter, Professor Qiao Yunping had already been missing for 48 hours. They conducted numerous interviews at his workplace and apartment building, and went to the telecommunications bureau to check the call records of his cell and home phone, but discovered nothing of value.

From the time that Professor Qiao went missing, a total of four unidentified corpses were delivered to city hospitals. All four were shown to the missing person's family members, who confirmed that none were the missing professor; nor was any trace of the professor found at any of the city's homeless shelters.

The man had disappeared.

While the police were out searching for Professor Qiao, Fang Mu was also walking every avenue and backstreet of the city. He had no leads and no place in mind. At a loss, he walked down crowded, brightly lit pleasure streets and filthy alleyways, always expecting to turn a corner and see Professor Qiao walking toward him, either from across the street or out of a doorway, or perhaps sitting behind the glass facade of some storefront. Many times he thought he saw him, only to realize upon closer inspection that it was merely someone of a similar age and build.

Where are you?

Every night, as the sky began to grow dark, Fang Mu would return to campus, doleful and exhausted. After eating a quick, careless dinner, he would collapse on his bed with his clothes still on. Sometimes he would be able to sleep a little, sometimes he would just lie there with his eyes open until the morning light. Then he would get up and do it all over again, returning once more to the crowded city streets to search for the man whose fate was unknown.

Fang Mu was well aware that searching around the clock as he did was pointless; and yet he couldn't stop, couldn't bear to sit quietly in his room and wait for news. He had to do something, for Professor Qiao, and for himself.

And all the while, he avoided thinking about the one thing that was almost certain to be true: Professor Qiao had already been killed.

Fang Mu was unable, or rather not brave enough, to confront this possibility. He preferred to believe that the professor had contracted some serious illness and was lying in some forgotten corner of the city, on the verge of death.

Professor Qiao was the person Fang Mu revered most. This was a different kind of feeling than those he had for Liu Jianjun and Zhang Yao. Fang Mu had never actively sought Professor Qiao's help on the case and had been bluntly refused the one time he tried to ask for his advice. And yet, all along Fang Mu had felt that if he himself was ever killed, Professor Qiao would not stand idly by, but rather would find the murderer and bring him to justice. This was because Fang Mu deeply believed in Professor Qiao, believed in his power and experience — believed that he was his last, best hope.

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.

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 shijieare 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.

"How is everything going at school?" Mrs. Qiao asked after motioning for him to sit beside the bed.

"Well enough. Makeup classes have begun for criminology."

She sighed softly. "The thing my husband disliked most was delaying his students' education. So even though he wasn't around, I couldn't let them keep missing class. There was nothing we could do for the graduate students, but at least we could schedule makeup classes for the undergrads."

Fang Mu was silent for a moment. Then after summoning his courage, he asked, "Mrs. Qiao, Librarian Sun…also used to be one of Professor Qiao's students?"

"That's right. Let me think for a moment." She lightly massaged her temples. "He was part of the class of '91."

"Then why did he go work in the library rather than become a teacher?"

"Aye, that boy has been through a lot." Mrs. Qiao put the bowl of medicine down beside her. "At the time, Sun Pu was the most outstanding student in his class. Old Qiao is rarely the type to praise his students lightly, but back then he would often mention Sun Pu's name at home, and I could tell that he thought very highly of him. After Sun Pu graduated, Old Qiao recommended that the school hire him and arranged for Sun Pu to become his own teaching assistant. Sun Pu has always been driven to excel, and performed superbly in this position. Soon after, before he was even thirty, the school made an exception to their rules and promoted him to associate professor. At the time, Sun Pu was already quite well-known across the province as a very talented young man. Later, however…aye…" Mrs. Qiao shook her head and sighed.

"What happened later?" Fang Mu asked hurriedly.

"As you know, the law school sometimes helps the public security bureau work on cases," she continued. "At the time, Old Qiao had Sun Pu assist him in solving several. After they worked on a few together, Old Qiao decided to see how Sun Pu would do solving some on his own. Sun Pu seemed to have a special gift in this area, and he made expert work of several cases in a row. That's when all the honors and praise started rolling in. Sun Pu was still quite young back then, and he had some trouble keeping himself under control. In 1998, several cases of rape-and-murder occurred one after another on the outskirts of the city. At the time, Old Qiao was out of the country doing research, so the police asked Sun Pu to help them with their investigation. Using your guys' criminal profiling techniques, Sun Pu described the general characteristics of the killer. Soon after, the police arrested an individual who matched these characteristics closely. In the end, however, this person died without making a confession. Because the police had no other evidence, they needed this confession to make the case, but the suspect wouldn't own up. At the time this case was a very big deal and the higher-ups were all demanding that it be solved as soon as possible. The pressure on Sun Pu and the rest of the police was immense. I think this is what made young Sun Pu lose his head, because he soon incited the police to make the suspect confess by any means necessary."

She sighed. "In the end, the man was beaten so badly that he gave in and died. To make matters worse, the real killer was arrested a few days later. Many people were implicated in the killing. Some lost their jobs, others were sent to jail. One of the captains of the unit that was handling the crime, I believe his name was Zhao-something, was also transferred to the State Enterprise Investigative Division. Sun Pu was almost arrested himself, but because there wasn't enough evidence and Old Qiao pulled a lot of strings, he was finally let off. However, there was no chance of him returning to his old position. But because Old Qiao spoke strongly on his behalf to the university president, he was eventually given his job in the library."

So that's what happened, thought Fang Mu. Looking down, he saw the nearly cold bowl of medicine. Hurriedly, he handed it back to Mrs. Qiao. "Why have I never heard about this before?"

Frowning, she drank the rest of her medicine. When she was done, Fang Mu passed her a napkin, which she used to wipe the corners of her mouth. After taking a few deep breaths, she continued.

"You weren't here at the time, and besides, the school did everything it could to keep the incident under wraps. But to tell the truth, it made Old Qiao enormously upset. Ever since then, his temper has been much worse. Sun Pu has come by to see him a number of times, but Old Qiao has always just forced him to leave, even when he's brought gifts with him. And at home, this topic has become absolutely taboo." Mrs. Qiao patted the pillow beside her. "If Old Qiao were at home right now, there's no way I'd dare say any of this to you. Aye, for a long time after that, he made sure not to mention any of his students at home. But recently your name has been coming up a lot, and I can tell that out of all the students he's ever had, you and Sun Pu are the ones he's admired most. At first I considered recommending that you teach the criminology makeup classes, but later I decided that you're still too young. Besides, Sun Pu has been doing an excellent job these past few years, and in his evaluations he's received high marks in all areas. The school has even begun to consider rehiring him to a teaching post. Aye, I don't think even Sun Pu knows about that. On the surface, it might seem like Old Qiao has never been willing to forgive him, but all along he's secretly been doing everything he could to help him. If he hadn't suddenly gone missing, he was going to recommend that the school rehire Sun Pu to begin teaching next semester…"

Fang Mu was no longer paying attention to what she was saying. He knew there was someone he needed to talk to immediately.