Profiler

CHAPTER 2

Hearing this almost absurdly bizarre story about Fang Mu's exploits, Tai Wei remained skeptical.

"This student, Fang Mu," Tai Wei paused, considering his words carefully, "he profiles the suspects?"

Ding Shucheng nodded.

"Is he really that good?"

Ding Shucheng laughed and leaned in close, a mysterious look on his face. "You know why Ronaldo's the best striker in the world?"

Tai Wei was baffled. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Why can't Hao Haidong become the world's number one striker?" (Translator’s note: Hao Haidong is a former international football player widely regarded as the best Chinese striker ever)

Totally lost, Tai Wei just stared at Ding Shucheng.

"Genius. This kid is a genius at understanding crime."

After checking the graduate student rolls at JiangbinCityUniversity, Tai Wei discovered that Fang Mu lived in Building B of Dormitory 5, Room 313. However when he went to speak to him, he found that Fang Mu was out-off playing to play basketball, according to his roommate.

When Tai Wei asked what Fang Mu looked like, the roommate laughed. "Don't worry about that. Just look for someone practicing free-throws all by himself-that's Fang Mu."

The weather was beautiful. A warm breeze blew softly across the campus, and the pleasant smell of pollen filled the air. Most of the students had ditched their thick winter clothes and were bustling about in lightweight attire. Too impatient to wait any longer, some of the girls were even wearing short skirts. Tai Wei's black windbreaker was clearly quite unseasonal, and before long he began to sweat. Pulling aside a short young man with a basketball under his arm, Tai Wei asked where the courts were, and the young man enthusiastically led the way.

The courts were located at the southwestern corner of campus, all of them full-sized and lined up next to each other. There were eight in total, made of cement and surrounded by a chain-link fence. Tai Wei passed court after court of students playing high-spirited games, his eyes peeled for a young man practicing foul shouts all by himself.

He wasn't hard to find.

Standing at the free-throw line of the farthest court was a young man, basketball in hand. He raised his arms to shoot and released the ball, which arced through the air and dropped perfectly into the hoop.

Tai Wei stood beside the court and watched the young man repeat the same actions over and over: shooting the ball, watching it drop through the net, fetching it, shooting the ball, watching it drop through the net…

His movements were graceful and precise, and he almost never missed.

Suddenly, without turning his head, the young man coldly spat out a single sentence: "What do you want?"

"Huh?" Tai Wei was somewhat taken by surprise. He awkwardly cleared his throat. "Ahem, are you Fang Mu?"

The young man's outstretched arms paused for an instant, then he flicked his fingers and the basketball rocketed towards the hoop, ricocheted off the backboard, and dropped back into his hands.

Holding the ball, he turned around.

His face was flushed. Fine beads of sweat rested on the end of his nose. His cheeks were sunken, his chin sharp, his thick eyebrows knitted together. And the look in his eyes-

— It was cold, weary, and yet incomparably penetrating, seeming to pierce the bright rays of afternoon sunlight and bore into the body of the policeman.

Tai Wei couldn't help but shiver. Averting his eyes, he was about to say something, when he realized that he hadn't prepared anything appropriate to break the ice.

"You…you know Ding Shucheng, right?" Tai Wei stuttered.

Fang Mu's frown deepened. Staring at Tai Wei, he said, "You're a policeman?"

The moment the words left his mouth, he turned and, without waiting for a response, walked over to the bleachers beside the basketball court.

Tai Wei hesitated for a moment, then followed behind him and sat down.

On the bleacher lay a very old backpack. Retrieving a pack of tissues from within, Fang Mu removed a few and wiped his face. Then he fished out his glasses and put them on.

"What do you need me to help you with?" His face remained totally inexpressive.

Tai Wei felt a twinge of discomfort; however he had come here for a reason, so he withdrew a sheaf of papers from his leather briefcase and handed them to Fang Mu.

"I work for the Jiangbin City Vice Squad. My name's Tai Wei. Since March of this year we've had three linked forced entry-and-murder cases. These are the materials from those cases. From what I've heard…" At this point, however, Tai Wei realized that Fang Mu wasn't paying any attention to what he was saying, and had begun reading through the pile of documents in his hands, utterly absorbed. Annoyed, Tai Wei shut his mouth and quietly stuffed his police badge, which he had been about to show Fang Mu, back in his pocket.

As it turned out, nothing could be more aggravating than spending an afternoon with this kid.

From start to finish, Fang Mu sat in silence, reading through the materials. At first, Tai Wei patiently assumed a posture of being ready to listen attentively at any time. However, as time dragged on, his shoulders grew painfully sore, and he became antsy. Stretching out his limbs, he leaned comfortably against the bleachers and gazed around, bored out of his mind.

The court where Fang Mu had just been shooting hoops was now occupied by several other young men. They looked not much older than twenty, 20 and spared nothing as they sprinted up and down the court, fighting for the ball, yelling with excitement, and occasionally arguing loudly about whether a foul had been committed or a point counted. Watching their energetic play, Tai Wei couldn't help but think back to his days studying at the police academy, and gradually the corners of his mouth curled into a faint smile.

Suddenly he realized that the person sitting beside him was also a young student, just like the carefree boys now running the court, and yet how dissimilar they were! It was as if there was some mark on him that made him totally different from all the people around him. Once more, Tai Wei couldn't help but turn and look at Fang Mu.

He was reading very slowly. His head bent over, his eyes focused nonstop on the photographs, crime scene reports, and autopsy reports in his hands. Every now and then he glanced up, and Tai Wei, thinking he was about to say something, would look at him hopefully. But Fang Mu just stared at the distant scenery, not saying a word, and then a moment later would drop his head and continue poring over the data. Tai Wei noticed that he was paying particular attention to a few of the crime scene photographs.

Finally, Fang Mu stood up and let out a deep breath. He removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and handed the sheaf of papers back to Tai Wei, who was staring at him.

"The person you're looking for is male, between twenty-five- and thirty-five-years-old, under five-feet nine-inches, and probably rather thin."

Tai Wei stared at him. Several seconds passed before he couldn't bear it any longer: "That's it?"

"That's it."

Tai Wei felt greatly disappointed. He had originally thought that Fang Mu's analysis would be just as Ding Shucheng claimed-a specific, detailed description of the killer's appearance, living circumstances, and family background, but the verdict Fang Mu had just given was brief and entirely ambiguous. And to be honest, it really didn't offer any valuable new clues; given the brutality of the crimes, the perpetrator was almost certain to be male, and the vast majority of serial killers are less than 40-year-old. As for the suspect's height and weight, both could be determined by footprints found at the crime scenes. And since there was also evidence of a struggle between the killer and his victims, he probably wasn't all that strong.

"Based on the reports and photographs, that's all I can see," said Fang Mu, seemingly aware of what Tai Wei was thinking. However, a moment later he added, "I also feel like this guy has some kind of mental problem, but as for what this problem is, I can't say for certain."

Humph, thought Tai Wei, even an idiot could see this killer’s a psycho!

"Being a psycho and having a psychological disorder are not the same."

Tai Wei's mouth nearly dropped open-it was clear that in less than a minute Fang Mu had already seen through him twice. To conceal his surprise, he stood up and extended his hand toward the young man.

"All right, then. Thanks for the help. If we need your assistance on something else, we'll contact you. See you later."

Fang Mu grasped Tai Wei's hand. The young man's hand was cold-Tai Wei couldn't even feel a hint of warmth.

"It would be best if we don't see each other again."

"Oh?" Tai Wei's eyebrows rose.

"If we see each other again, it means someone else has died."

Tai Wei opened his mouth to respond, however nothing came out. At last, unable to do anything else, he simply nodded, turned and walked away.

As he left the basketball courts, Tai Wei couldn't resist looking back. Fang Mu was no longer beside the bleachers. Instead he was on one of the distant courts, his back to Tai Wei, shooting by himself. Dusk had fallen, and only a few players remained on the courts. As the darkness deepened, Fang Mu's silhouette became increasingly faint, until all that could be seen was the continuous rising motion of his arms and the ball as it flew through the air towards the hoop.