Chapter 16 Chapter fifteen

Do you know who I am? You are Hal.Bradshaw. No, no.Do you know who I am? I look around his examination room.There is an entire wall of books: Freud, Jung, poetry anthologies, art books, and catalogs.On the mantelpiece and on the two glass tables were various statuettes: statuettes in steatite, marble, and bronze, as well as some antique medicine jars and a heap of quartz stones.Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I can see the colorful Hampstown Gardens.Hal.Dr. Blashaw wears faded jeans and a child's-painted top in splashes of different colors.An outfit looks expensive.He was in his forties, with long, curly, unkempt black hair and a beard that hadn't been shaved for about two days.He wears a pair of glasses with black plastic frames, slim and shaped like welder's goggles.

Kamsky said you are an expert in psychology on this subject. You can say that.please sit down. He beckoned me over to sit on a high-backed wicker chair.As soon as I sat on it, the chair crackled embarrassingly.I don't know why you want to talk to me. I said, I know very little, and I have said everything I know, and there are records in black and white. I've seen it, he said contemptuously, I'm not interested in that kind of stuff.I invited you here because I want to smell you.He sniffed like a stuffy animal. What?I said in a panic. It doesn't really smell, he said, but I'm sure you smell good.

I don't like cycling through the streets of London. I have to catch a feeling on this case.I have to connect to its power source and master its veins.The guy in the white booties with the tweezers and the little plastic bag in Ingrid.De.Walking around Soto's house.I don't do that kind of thing, I take great leaps of the imagination.I lay in the dark thinking about it and dreaming about it.Estelle, did you have this event in your dreams? No, I said, well, at least not as far as I know.Besides, I never remember the content of the dream. Interesting, he said, pacing around the room, pausing now and then to look at me.Forgetting can also be a way of telling yourself what you need to know.

Excuse me, I said, I don't know what that means. Tell me what you dreamed about last night. I can't do it.I don't remember at all. Did what you witnessed upset you? Yes. tell me what you saw. I paused.I found a woman brutally murdered and disfigured.I said, are you going to ask me why this upset me? What were you thinking when you saw her dead body? I didn't think about anything at all.I was freaked out.Then call the police station.Probably called an ambulance too. should? My memory is a bit fuzzy. Vague.This word is really interesting. It's funny. Really?Hal.Blashaw said, why is it boring?

It's a cliche, I say, what people say after a frightening experience.They will say: My memory is a blur. Then why do they say that? Because it is true.Because the memory is really fuzzy. Blashaw showed a dissatisfied expression.He paced back and forth, then stopped suddenly in front of me.Estelle, why did the murderer kill in front of you? I think it's just a coincidence. From God's point of view, there is no such thing as coincidence. I don't quite understand what you mean, I said, but as far as I can understand, I don't agree with you. We have to tell a story and connect all the threads.Dr Bradshaw said.

a true story?I asked suspiciously. Murderers are storytellers, Dr. Blashaw said, and the scene of the murder is their story, their work of art.And our job is to decode them.We profile the killers, learn about their personalities. Have you ever caught the murderer? Dr. Blashaw threw me a disgusted look, as if it were a superficial and vulgar question.Estelle, let me tell you a story that might happen.Some homicides are drama, some exposition, some ostentation, some tribute.My cat's name is Ariel. (Note: Ariel is the name of the elf in Shakespeare's famous comedy The Tempest, and it is also a washing powder brand.)

Named after the brand of laundry detergent? It's a character in Shakespeare's famous play.It would bite in dead rats and keep them by my bed.They are tributes.I want you to think of these two murders as declarations of love.Dr. Blashaw bent over me.Estelle, I love you. What? I'm telling a story.Estelle, I love you, this is Margaret.Farrell's body, that woman nearly killed you. It was an accident. Is there any difference?And now lying in front of you is the body of a beautiful woman of rich gold.I disfigured her, which means no one can match your beauty.He moved closer.I can smell his breath: coffee, tobacco.Um?

I distance myself from him.I find this statement a bit far-fetched. We'll find out when the time comes.said Dr. Blashaw, smiling.He picked up a small wooden sculpture from the table and began to play with it gracefully.Estelle, do you have a boyfriend? No.I said. You hesitated before answering.Why? Probably because I don't know what this matter has to do with you. I think you have someone, even if he's not your boyfriend yet. Maybe. You like him.Does he like you? I have no idea.I said. Have you ever had a boyfriend before? I really don't think that has anything to do with the case.

Estelle, please answer.Have it? Well, of course there is. Do you have a good relationship with them?he asked. It was a bad interview, but I couldn't help but smile, and immediately regret it, as Dr. Bradshaw pounced on me.Is it good?he asked aggressively. Who will have a good relationship with the former lover?I asked him back. Dr. Blashaw walked across the room, picked up a piece of paper from the desk, and read aloud the words on it.And one of them is your landlord.Miles.Thornton. You should have read my statement, right? I'm also involved in the whole investigation, so I'll be watching everything.

I think you are wasting your time. Dr. Blashaw put the file back on the table and walked back to me.He dragged a wooden chair towards me and placed it a few meters away from the wicker chair I was sitting on.He sat down face to face with me.The police were running around like headless chickens, he said, knocking on doors everywhere.Stop people on the street for questioning.Put up those ridiculous yellow signs asking for witnesses.Fibers, dust particles, and skin samples are viewed under a microscope.Check contact history.Maybe they'll find a suitable suspect somewhere and arrest him, but that's looking less and less likely.On the other hand, I have a hunch that if we examine your life, looking at its minutiae and its characters, exploring your hopes and fears and fantasies, we'll find the answers somewhere.What do you think?

Not sure if you're like everyone else.I said. what other people? Felt like I was a celebrity, I said, like one of those lucky lottery winners or soap opera stars.People want to talk to me and take pictures of me.Reporters stopped me on the street, and someone passed a note through the door, saying that they wanted to give me a chance to listen to my speech on this aspect.It's like I have something to hide.Another female reporter called me and said it was my duty to do an interview because I could help other women with my experience. What is the purpose of you telling me these things? I feel like I've been exposed to radiation, I said.It's just that it's the kind of radiation that everyone loves.Just because I've been around homicides so close, people think that just by talking to me and being close to me, they can feel the heat of the case.Isn't it like what you said: You must see me so you can try to smell murder in me?I became a little famous, and people are drawn to being famous. I'm a scientist, said Dr. Bradshaw, a storyteller.I don't care about celebrities. What about your TV show?I said, Chief Inspector Kamsky said you did a series of well-known homicide shows. That's educational programming.said Dr. Brashaw; he was evidently outraged.Have you seen it? No. The TV station is scheduled to broadcast late at night.But then again, don't you want to help find this murderer? It's two murderers.I said. There is also this possibility.Dr Bradshaw said. Then how do you want me to cooperate?I said, I'm confused. I want you to tell me. say what? Say anything.Nothing was left out.nothing left. I pondered for a moment.Kamsky said you profile criminals for them, and I said, you might as well talk about the possible characteristics of the suspect in your mind.If I ever knew someone like that, I'd tell you. Dr. Blashaw stood up, a smile slowly spreading across his face. White, male, he said, in his early thirties.He is over one hundred and eighty tall and has a burly physique.live alone.No sexual partner.There may be some kind of flaw in the looks.His work necessitates the use of tools, perhaps as a carpenter, plumber, or leather master. Why Leather Master? It's also a way for someone who cuts with a sharp weapon at work to express himself. How do you know these characteristics? He shrugged.Just hypothetical, he said, that serial killers would choose victims of their own race.I guess Margaret.Farrell was killed by chance, but Ingrid.De.Soto was his pick.Ingrid was about the same age as him, but in a very different situation: rich, beautiful, and married.He has a way to kill Margaret in just a few seconds on the street.Farrell subdues the kill, which suggests he has some level of physical strength. What about facial flaws? It's up to him to ruin Ingrid.De.Soto's appearance infers.In my opinion, it represents both his sexual repression and his awareness of his own disfigurement.He wanted to make Ingrid just like him.Dr. Blashaw folded his arms triumphantly.Even when they thought they were perfectly concealed, they left traces, personal traits and other clues. Well, I don't know any disfigured leather masters.I said. I don't want you to be a detective, said Dr. Brashaw, just talk a lot.I don't want your reasoning.But I want to know everything you know. I sighed involuntarily.Apparently yet another Saturday to be lost for nothing. I have something for you, David said, that should amuse you. We sat in his room, above mine, overlooking the street, one of the few peaceful bedrooms in the house.When Davy moved in, he painted the room a lime green, polished the wood, and built shelves, though not many books.There was a mattress, a chest of drawers repainted white, the swivel chair I was sitting on, and a square blue rug.The bedrooms are bright and airy throughout.Since the addition of Xiaomei, a large string of wooden wind chimes has been hung on the ceiling, which will make a sound as clear as water when touched; in addition, the flowers placed above the never-used mantelpiece are also thanks to Xiaomei.Today is the big red peony, but the flowers have begun to wither.It was a pity that he had gone to such lengths to make the room so comfortable that it was not long before he had to move it. Do I look like I need to be teased? If it were me, I would need someone to make me happy, he replied, but I didn't buy it specially for you, but because someone asked me to add an interior staircase illegally, and I had to add these two words, because I Be sure to do so would violate safety regulations.In short, the other party gave me these two tickets, probably because they wanted to bribe me.Birds like flower show.We can go together.Don't you like gardening? He smiled smugly at me. oh?I'm a bit dismayed, so do I need to wear a lady hat? It's not to watch the Royal Jockey Club. That's great, I said with a forced smile, Davy, thanks. I impulsively kissed him on the cheek and saw his face flush from the roots of his wavy brown hair. You're welcome.He said. When is the deadline? There are about ten days left.Is this okay? Awesome, I said duplicitously, and my heart sank just thinking about it.To spend the day with someone I'm not particularly fond of; and to behave with extra dignity.It's like going back to childhood and being forced to visit an annoying aunt. Can you ask for leave? Then I have to report to Campbell first. We can have a picnic first. Very good.Davy, thank you very much. It's nothing, he shrugged, you've been having a hard time lately. Yes, I said, it should all pass.But I don't want to think about it right now.I've had enough for today. I picked up a handsome glass case from the mantel-piece, and turned it from time to time, watching it play in the light and shadow.There is no paper under the Wenzhen, right? Oh, he said, obviously panicked, I never thought of that. Sorry, I'll change the subject.David, what I need most now is to find a shelter. Haven't found it yet? Not really, which isn't really surprising since I haven't even started looking yet.I keep procrastinating.And you? I did a little searching. Then we fell silent.I carefully put Wenzhen back in place.Well, it's time for me to go.I'm going to dance. good.He said with some melancholy. I considered asking him to go with me, but then I dismissed the idea.I want to get out of this home, not take it with me. I went home very late that day, and the music of dance music was still lingering in my ears.The room was pitch black, I awkwardly took the key to unlock it, and then heard a slight sobbing sound coming from the side of the steps, and I froze in place immediately.what is that?Is it a cat?I looked down and saw a huddled figure, a patch of pale skin.I was so scared that I couldn't breathe or move.My key fell to the ground with a clatter, bounced up the steps, and landed beside the figure.At this time, there was another whimper: not a cat meowing, but a human voice. who is it?I asked.My voice is dry with fear. Help. Dalio? I ran and rushed to the side of the figure squatting on the ground.He lay curled up into a ball like a fetus, his arms covering his head protectively.I just touched him and my hands were covered in blood. God, Dalio, what's wrong with you?Hold on, I'll call an ambulance.Do not move.Just stay here. Do not call an ambulance.Do not call the police.don't want! He took one arm away from his head, his fingers gripping me tightly. Hold on, at least let me call the rest of the room out.Dalio, it's all right now.nothing will happen. I picked up the key, rushed to open the door, and shouted into the darkness: Help!lute!Miles!Mike!David! I vaguely heard someone respond, but I had to wake everyone up. I knocked furiously on Miles' bedroom door, then pushed the door open and turned on the light, only to see Leah emerge from under the covers like a mermaid breaking through the waves. How did she just leave her mouth. Miles! What's wrong?Estelle?Estelle! Come quickly and help.Dalio was injured.Leah, wake the others up.We are outside the gate.act fast! I let them go, ran to knock on Pipa's door, called her name again, ran to the door, opened it, and let the light fall on the place where Dali fell. He had changed places, and now he sat huddled at the bottom of the steps, with his face buried in his knees and his arms wrapped around his body.I sat next to him with my arm around his shoulder.If you can move, I'll help you into the house. He muttered something into his knees, but I couldn't understand. I really think it's time to call an ambulance. no! He sat half upright as he spoke; and I gasped when I saw his face.One of his eyes was closed tightly, his nose was swollen and deformed, blood was all over his chin, and gushed out of his mouth in lumps.I can't see clearly. Here, take my arm. Dalio. Miles shouted, and behind him was Dawei, followed by Xiaomei with braids and light pink pajamas. Help me get him in. Davey held him on one arm, Miles on the other.Xiaomei followed suit, whispering and smacking her lips from time to time.Pipa shows up in an old T-shirt and men's underwear. Where is Mike?I asked, he was very good at this kind of thing. I'll go and fetch him.Xiaomei said eagerly. Did you call an ambulance?Davy asked. Don't call an ambulance!Dalio said breathlessly. Dude, what the hell is going on? fine.Dalio was dragged into the foyer and said casually.Blood dripped on the wooden floor.Lia stood at the door of Miles' room, watching all this.When she saw the horror on Dalio's face, her eyes widened involuntarily. Help him downstairs.Myers said. I can go by myself.That being said, he was shaky when he walked.Dawei stabilized him and helped him into the kitchen. Hot tea, I ordered; they seated him in an armchair.Add sugar to help him calm down. let me.Xiaomei, who appeared again, said; she brought Mike, and he was wearing only a pair of jogging pants. whisky.Myers said. Someone beat you up, right?Davy asked, frowning worriedly.You have to know, you really can't just leave it like this. I'll be fine.But he was crying, and the tears flowed into the blood.He had a broken tooth and ginger hair stuck to his head.He looked like a seven-year-old boy, scrawny, devastated, and frowning.I knelt down and put my hand on his knee. Oh Dalio, I yelled, and he cried even harder.Come talk to us. They won't let it go.he said out of breath. who?Miles asked, who killed you? I turned and left, and walked to the place where Xiaomei was making tea.I soak the dish towels in warm water and get the sanitizer out of the cupboard. How can you put up with us?I asked her, you must feel like you are in a mental hospital. Xiaomei smiled shyly at me, making her cheeks even more tender.I like being around people.I never had a home of my own. God, Xiaomei!Is this the home in your mind?Dalio, wait a minute, I'll go over and clean your wound right away. I cleaned his scratches with Pipa and applied disinfectant lightly on him.Mike checks his injuries to see if there are any broken bones.He whimpered for a while, shook my hand, and reiterated that he would never say who was bothering him. Did Li do it?Davy asked. But he insisted on not revealing his name, and finally we had to give up.Mike took him back to the room like taking care of a baby and put him on the bed. Pipa and I covered him with extra blankets.Xiaomei patted the pillow for him, and her smooth and slender hand rested on his sweaty forehead.His crying turned into a low whimper, and then he suddenly fell asleep, and his shattered face finally became peaceful. I didn't go to bed that night until just after dawn.After Dalio fell asleep, the rest of us sat in the kitchen drinking whiskey and chatting, repeating our own thoughts about Dalio being bullied.Oddly enough, for that brief moment, our group was back to friendship, and this experience brought us closer together.Everyone left one by one, and finally only me and Pipa were left. I don't actually feel very tired.I said. Me too. Want some sandwiches or something? Then I will trouble you.We haven't eaten supper for a long time. I opened the refrigerator and peered inside.There is very little to eat in it.Probably can only choose between a cheese sandwich and a grilled cheese sandwich. I want the second one.Stomach safe food. good.I cut two thick slices of bread and put them in the toaster.lute? Um. can i ask you something Sure, as long as you don't borrow money from me.Miss Ben is currently overdrawn by £827. It has nothing to do with money.I butter a thick slice of bread, sprinkle it with cheese, and send it to the oven.Why are you sleeping with so many men? The pipa clicked, and I'm not sure if it meant happiness or panic.First Leah, she said, and then you.You also think I am no different from a public toilet. No, I don't think so.It's just that I've been puzzled.Although I'm not the kind of girl who guards herself like a jade and doesn't show her first night until she gets married, but at least what does going to bed mean?It's not about having a cup of coffee with whom I'm not very good at expressing. The cheese is baked. Please use.Might be hot.I'm just this, there are countless people next to you.It can be confusing at times. Why not?She said nonchalantly, and took a bite of her toast; several melted strips of cheese stuck to her chin.It couldn't be better.After the murder, the necessary medicine to calm the mood. So that's it?Why not? I guess so. Are you enjoying it? enjoying the moment?She paused, thinking about the answer, the toast hanging halfway into her mouth. what do you say Do you really want to hear the answer?Because that's what men really want.They may deny it, but as long as you are willing to dedicate yourself, no man in the world will reject you no matter how good his character is, whether he is married or not.A silence followed.Are you surprised? I was just thinking, I said, I don't know whether you love men or despise men. Pipa thought for a while.Can it be said that it is both?