Chapter 41 41

She feels uneasy. Are you sure your dad is asleep? Patrick sounded impatient.take it easy!He works the night shift and usually doesn't wake up until the afternoon. She felt uncomfortable all over.What would his father do if he found out that a woman with unnaturally dark hair was living in his son's room with a rucksack?What's more, this woman is old enough to be his son's mother. The two of them walked to the apartment where Patrick lived and whispered at the bottom of the stairs. And your mother, are you sure, really really sure, she's not coming home? certainly.She won't be back until tomorrow night.

Maybe he was right, but on the other hand, maybe he was wrong.Besides, is it really right to involve him? When she heard the latest news, she couldn't help walking forward, and then sat on a bench in a nearby park.He followed silently, not disturbing her.Sitting there, looking out at the empty campus, she felt her courage slip away again.She stared at the big clock and thought to herself that she should continue the impulse in her heart a few nights ago and use the school attic as her final resting place. He tried to say something hopeful, trying to lift her spirits. Listen!I can tell the police you were with me last night.

She just snorted, but then felt guilty because it sounded like a bit of sarcasm. They'll just add seduction to my count. His voice sounded exasperated. In fact, I was only fifteen years old. Patrick, I've had that experience.Might as well just admit it and end this whole thing. Pooh!don't want!Don't do that! He was really distraught. Listen, you can't admit to something you haven't done! So what do you suggest? Can't go to the police station, for example, and talk to the police? That's still the same. I don't understand why? You must understand, right?The police have identified me as the murderer and they won't believe what I say.

She buried her head in her hands and spoke softly to the ground in front of her: Worse yet: I can't face being locked up. Now his voice sounded even less convincing: But you just told the police what really happened! Then she talked to Jorgen.Tell him about Glennburgh, including how her fingerprints were printed on Glennburgh's electronic concierge card, why the wig and Swiss knife were left in the hotel room, and everything about her past: it used to be a mental hospital The combination of these descriptions made her the number one suspect, and the police were bound to gear up and regard her as the perfect object.No problem, she was guilty.

In any case, even if there was a chance to convince the police that she was innocent, she would be locked up during the investigation, for example, and that would drive her crazy.She had been in prison before and knew what to talk about. The murderer also understands this truth.For him, I was the ideal scapegoat.After the murder at Westwick, he even left my name and confessed. He nodded slightly. He did the same with Bolnas. Is that where he committed the crime last night? The night before, I had no idea where he was last night. She collapsed and leaned against the back of the bench.Even the night before, even though she was nestling in the attic.Police now suspect her of four murders.

He stared at her. You don't know, do you? She sighed. I don't know, I don't know. It was silent.He was thinking, he must be beginning to understand the complexity of the case. I see.Go to my house and see what is written about you in the newspaper. How do you say that? We search online. oh!The internet, she'd read about it in the papers, it was an amazing new world, she knew nothing about it.She was as puzzled by the Internet search as she was by this fifteen-year-old boy who invited her home. So why is it useful? Maybe we'll find some proof that it can't be you.I bet you haven't read all the news about you in the papers.

You are absolutely right. He stood up. let's go! Are there other options? They slipped through the corridor, and she felt like a thief, her heart pounding. go this way. They came to his house, and there was a metal sign on the door, which read: Do not enter unless you are responsible for the consequences. Well, she didn't want to be here at first. They passed through a wide hallway into a spacious drawing room, and then through a closed door to his parents' rooms.Patrick put a finger to her lips to tell her to be quiet, his father was fast asleep inside.Then Patrick opened the door into his room and beckoned her to go on.All this was very clumsy, but she did it to please him.

His room looked like it had been battered by a strong wind, and the floor was barely visible, covered with piles of clothes, old comics, CD cases, books.She threw her rucksack among them and looked at him suspiciously. I know, I promised my mother to tidy up the room, but I kind of forgot. of course. They talked quietly. He pressed a button on the PC, which came alive with a little melody, and she told him to turn the volume down.As the computer booted up, she looked around the room.In addition to that desk, there is a messy bed and a bookshelf.She pulled the coverlet over the bed to make the place look less cluttered.

Many symbols popped up on the computer screen on the desk, and he sat down to work.She walked over to an apparently empty fish tank by the window because something was moving in it. That's Batman, my Greek tortoise. Batman crawled to the corner, chewing lettuce leaves with relish, looking very content, so in his little heart, the world was almost pleasant.At that moment, she felt so envious. Patrick was writing on the small keyboard. The serial killer Sibylla. He clicked, the computer started to work, and after a few seconds, the results came out.Sixty-seven pieces of information, he smiled slightly.

great! What means? Searching for you and your killing spree, we got sixty-seven pieces of information. She had read reports about the online world, but was surprised that she had entered this strange world unknowingly.Patrick was already scrolling through what looked like newsprint. I will print all these materials, and you can read them whenever you want. It was all new and strange to her, but he seemed to know what he was doing.Another machine on the table was already humming, spitting out paper.The printed stuff was on the end she couldn't see, but she grabbed the first batch of paper and sat down on the bed.Meanwhile, Patrick continued to click, feeding more paper into the printer.

The first sheet begins with a catchy title: □□□ Woman at Grand Hotel ruins widow's peaceful life Raina.Grant was curled up on the couch in the comfort of his living room at home.She met us at her home, the same house where she lived with her loving husband, Jorgen, less than a week ago.Last Thursday, Grantborough became the first victim of the cold-blooded killer.The deranged killer who appeared at the Grand Hotel was apparently a thirty-two-year-old woman who, so far, had managed to disappear without a trace despite the efforts of the police across the country.But just two days after the brutal murder at the Grand Hotel, the madwoman visits the grieving widow of the Grants. Reina told her story, but couldn't stop the tears in her eyes. I had been terrified, she confessed: This woman just rang the doorbell and then told me a lot of lies about her husband who had just died.I never knew what she wanted, but when I later saw the police reconstructed photo of the suspect, I recognized her face immediately. □□□ Sybylla stopped and looked away.A complete set of lies!The grieving widow could not hold back her tears.is that so?lie. At this time, a lot of new things were printed, and she grabbed the stack of papers. □□□ Knowledge of anatomy is a common skill for butchers and killers Police are in a stalemate over the serial killings of a 32-year-old woman who has been charged with several massacres after refusing to show up.Beginning in the 1960s, a study of butchers in Sweden showed that such killers usually worked as doctors, veterinarians, hunters, butchers and other occupations.According to Professor of Criminal Psychiatry Stan.According to Bergman (Sten Bergman), this result is based on the one hand that people engaged in such professions have overcome the fear of anatomy that most people feel, and the other is because they have such skills. Police investigations into the 32-year-old woman's past revealed that none of her background matched those occupational statistics.Of course, for a person to transform into a potential killer of this type, not only physical and mental skills are required, but most importantly, such people often have psychological defects such as difficulty in empathy and strong contempt for others. Severe psychosis associated with paranoia is another possible prerequisite.In some cases, for example, the perpetrator was compelled to dismember the victim, which appeared to be the case with the thirty-two-year-old woman.Within this psychological framework, the perpetrator feels a need to possess a trophy as an object to commemorate the deceased or the act of killing.Such personalities lead them to believe that they are manipulating life and death. The fact that the victim had been mutilated fits the alleged pattern of aggression.This whole situation is different from the so-called passive massacre, which is carried out to hide the nature of the crime or increase the complexity of the investigation afterwards.There was no evidence of that in the murders committed by the woman.The woman's only intention had been to insult the victim.Police are still reluctant to reveal what the woman did and which body parts □□□ She stood up and dropped the papers on the floor. It's too much for me to watch. She raised her voice so high that Patrick turned to look at her. Hello!Quiet! She sat down again, listening to the machine spit out more printed pages.Others wrote all these things, speculated about her like this, no one paid attention to her past, and then she suddenly became the most popular character in the writings of literati in Sweden. Really fucking hate it! I can't stay here, I have to leave. He turned to look at her again. oh!Yeah?For example, where are you going? She sighed. Somewhere in the apartment there was a door clicking open.The two of them looked at each other anxiously, listening intently, they heard the sound of the tap being turned on and running water.Sibylla got up and looked for a place to hide. take it easy!He might just go into the bathroom. Patrick's tone was less certain.When she couldn't hear the sound of running water from the faucet, she immediately got under the bed, and then heard a knock on the door. are you in therePatrick? no respond.Sybylla saw his feet were gone, and heard him lying on the bed.The door opened, and a pair of bare hairy legs walked in. What!Are you asleep? Soon. It's past eleven o'clock, you know? The machine on the desk buzzed, spitting out a piece of information that had just been printed. What it is? The hairy legs came closer.The next second, Patrick's legs in jeans suddenly appeared in front of her nose.He must have grabbed the paper. Just some information. information, is it?So why are you lying in bed with your coat on? I actually got up and just wanted to lie down. oh!what are you printing I checked the internet, nothing special. There was an unbearable silence for a few seconds. Well!I'm going back to sleep now.will you be home todayWhat's the matter? Maybe at home, I'm not sure. If you go out, please don't come back after ten o'clock, and you must call to tell where you are. She could hear Patrick sigh.The bare man's legs walked towards the door, then stopped. That's not your rucksack, is it? Sybylla closed her eyes, and Patrick seemed to take a long time to answer.God!say something!Say you picked it up.Make up an answer!Just find a damn answer! It's from Viktor. That's a good answer. Why are you here? He forgot at school, and I promised to keep an eye on him. This sentence is better.Those legs started moving forward again. see you later.Remember!This place has to be tidied up before your mother comes back. I will. Then the door finally closed behind him, and Patrick's smiling face stared at her from under the edge of the bed. Were you scared just now? She crawled out, beckoning him to be quiet, and trying to brush the dust off her body. Could you please lock the door? He sat on the bed studying the paper which he had just hidden from his father.She looked over his shoulder. □□□ hunt down the killer □□□ He seemed to be thinking carefully. I know what to do. She couldn't think of what to say. Just think about it!The police are after you, not anyone else.The question is: who's going to track down the real killer? have no idea. Don't you understand?We have to do this - we have to find the murderer.