Criminal Psychology 3

Questioned like this, Fu Hao wasn’t embarrassed or offended at all. He smiled, folded his arms, and looked at Lin Chen.

Needless to say, this worked well.

Xing Cong Lian watched as the unsmiling young man with bowed head picked up the evidence bag in a somewhat embarrassed manner, then carefully explained: “This white sand comes from a sandbox. In psychotherapy, there is a therapeutic intervention called Sandplay Therapy that uses sand like this and other arrangements to explore the patient’s mental state.” The young man seemed to think of something then carefully said: “If this is the time before Taobao, this sand would be sold for over 20,000 yuan. Their manufacturers and distributors are few, but nowadays, if you want to trace its origin, it’ll get complicated.”

His voice was light, but the calm of his eyes or perhaps his correct posture exuded an absolute aura.

How to say it? When facing an expert, all speculation look insignificant.

Xing Cong Lian wanted to apologize which was rare for him, but the feeling only lasted a second before getting cut off by Lin Chen’s next words.

“Let me go, promise to never appear in front of me again, and I will tell you where this sand came from.”

“Okay.” Cong Lian didn’t hesitate for even a moment and answered briskly. He looked at Lin Chen with some interest and rested his cheek in his palm.

It was Lin Chen’s turn to be surprised.

He didn’t think the police would agree to his request.

He stared at Cong Lian’s dark green eyes carefully, and it seemed like he could see sincerity and integrity in those eyes, not finding any sign of a bluff. “The sand from the boy was stolen from my room, but I don’t know where the one with the body came from.”

He said bluntly.

Xing Cong Lian nodded as if it was expected.

Lin Chen didn’t speak again. He looked at his junior brother then stood up, intending to leave.

Just then, vibration buzzed in the interrogation room.

Lin Chen automatically looked back and saw the two sitting in the chairs look at each other for a moment before answering the phone.

“Mr. Lin.”

Xing Cong Lian covered the speaker and stopped him.

“We’re heading to Central Park, and it’s along the way, I’ll send you home. Please wait a moment.”

He said that in such a matter of fact tone, it never gave Lin Chen a chance to refuse.

If Lin Chen knew the so-called “along the way” was actually a ride to the crime scene, he would never have gotten on Cong Lian’s jeep.

The crime scene was at Central Park. The victim was a young man around 30 years old.

According to a source, the man exercised in the park and fell off the pull-up bar. The cause of death might be a skull fracture.

By this time, it was dark, and the street lights were dim. The camphor trees in the park gently swayed in the wind. The yellow warning tape was particularly bright in the darkness. There were many people gathered around the tape, which made it impossible to see what was beyond it.

The brake’s impact made Lin Chen’s body slide slightly forward.

In a blink of an eye, the police officer in the jeep discarded his uniform, pulled up the handbrake, and lowered the window.

Before Lin Chen could respond, the man had already gotten out of the car and locked the door, shutting Lin Chen and Fu Hao inside.

“Mr. Lin, please wait a moment.”

Outside the car, the officer blew him a kiss then ran away.

Lin Chen sat in the car with the cold night wind blowing in the open window. Everything that happened today was strange, but in the final analysis, he concluded: it was strange because the people he met today were strange.

At his side, his junior brother shuddered from the cold and whispered, “Don’t be angry, brother. Captain Xing probably wanted to send you home. He’s not a bad person, just, he’s a quarter Russian and a quarter Italian, so he’s a bit unconventional…”

“When those two lineages mix, they hardly create a normal person.” Lin Chen looked at Cong Lian’s back and said this.

Of course, Xing Cong Lian couldn’t hear this commentary on his heritage.

As a man of complex lineage, he was a perfect example of resilience. He ruffled his hair, lit a cigarette, and mixed in with the crowd. Eventually, he stood beside an old auntie who wore square-group dance clothing.

“Auntie, what’s going on? There are quite a lot of policemen.” Captain Xing, with a cigarette between his lips, pretended to be one of the onlookers and poked the aunt for information with an alarmed but curious tone.

“A dead man!” The aunt said in non-standard Mandarin.

“A dead person, that’s a big deal, ah!”

“It is a big deal, young man. I saw him every day, and I even exercised with him  yesterday.” When gossiping, this aunt was particularly enthusiastic. “He shouldn’t be too energetic, ah. He hangs on the bar with two legs hooked around it, turning upside down.” As she said this, the old woman bent over excitedly to demonstrate: “This is how he was like. Then the bar broke, he fell and died!”

“That’s terrible!” Xing Cong Lian exclaimed.

“What a tragedy, ah. His face was so scary, and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. His cry was so loud you could hear it from 10 miles away.”

“You mean, he didn’t die when he fell?” Xing Cong Lian noticed.

“No, he was still moving when we lifted him!”

. . .

“That auntie said the bar suddenly broke, and the victim didn’t die right away.”

Xing Cong Lian stood by the window on Lin Chen’s side, with a cigarette in hand. Although Fu Hao thought he was talking to himself, his words felt like they were for Lin Chen.

Lin Chen leaned back with eyes closed as if he fell asleep.

The man seemed to have said something that was swallowed by the night wind while the other faked sleep.

Fu Hao felt burned by the weird atmosphere between these two, so he quickly stepped forward and asked, “Was it an accident?”

Cong Lian didn’t answer him. Instead, he looked at Lin Chen and said, “Only after the forensic team completes their investigation can we make a conclusion.”

Fu Hao felt he was redundant, being here. Just as he intended to continue, Lin Chen suddenly opened his eyes and stood up. Fu Hao followed his gaze, and it looked vaguely directed at the crime scene across the crowd.

It was dark, the police emergency vehicle lights shone on the fitness equipment, casting a translucent blue shadow.

This equipment was scattered, and they were all standard, such as the uneven bars and sit-up planks. They were a mixture of new and old, and there were no signs of rust or decay.

In the corner, only the ring hanger stood alone. One hung in the air while the other was on the ground.

Beneath the ring hanger, covered with sporadic bloodstains, sand degraded the grass.

Lin Chen watched Cong Lian, who was so close he could feel the other man’s breath.

In the dark of night, he could see the police officer’s eyes still searching for something. He seemed to have some clue about the sandy ground but was not able to accurately point out what it was.

It was the same sand.

In this city, there were consecutive cases involving this sands for several days. They might be coincidental, but it was very likely to be connected somewhere they couldn’t see.

But Lin Chen’s thought was: What do these things have to do with him?

“I was at the police station at the time of the crime, so the murderer wasn’t me.”

He saw disappointment in the other man’s eyes.

“I don’t understand what Mr. Lin is talking about.” Cong Lian smoked the last of his cigarette, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it, smiling.