The two guards then went out and closed the door from the outside.
The room was quiet for a while, and only the incandescent light from the top was projected to outline the man on the opposite side. Su Hui felt that the figure in front of him was blurry, and the two eye sockets were deeply sunken, like a skeleton in hell.
Looking at Su Hui, Song Rongjiang smiled maliciously. His two tiger teeth were sharp: "You shouldn't let them open my handcuffs."
Su Hui raised his head, his eyes were scattered, and he looked at him in confusion: "Why do you say that?"
"Only the shackles can't trap me." Song Rongjiang smiled, he stuck out his tongue and licked his teeth, snapped his fingers, and made a slight crackling sound, then he lowered his voice and said, "Before those waste prison guards rushed Before you come in, I strangle you, as easily as strangling a bird."
Su Hui catered to him and listened with his right ear. The interrogation room was very quiet. He successfully captured Song Rongjiang's words and then asked him, "It's like strangling those women?"
Just half a year ago, Song Rongjiang killed at least two women, and they were both beaten and strangled to death. The method was extremely cruel.
Su Hui lowered his head and was still sorting out the information. He looked indifferent and said without fear: "Then you can try it. It will be more difficult for a man to have an Adam's apple, and it will be more difficult to hold his neck with his hands."
When Su Hui said this, he took out a recording pen from his schoolbag and pressed the record button in front of the man.
He didn't take his words as a death threat, as if he was giving advice sincerely, discussing it politely with him.
Song Rongjiang stared at the thin man with bloodshot eyes: "Aren't you afraid?"
Ordinary people, facing a murderer who has killed several people, will show some emotions, either anger or fear, but he can't see anything in Su Hui.
Su Hui replied: "Even death is nothing to be afraid of. 'After the first loss of life, there is no other death.'"
The person in front of him is a perverted murderer, fierce, brutal, hysterical, and moody. Su Hui had seen this sentence on a man's related materials, and it was copied on a sticky note. And this sentence is also very applicable to Su Hui himself.
He has already died once, and he has no fear of death.
"You've seen what I left..." Song Rongjiang was stunned for a moment, his heart moved, and then nodded, "Yes, they can't sentence me to death again."
Su Hui said again: "I see that you have copied a lot of verses, many of which are about death, and some of them I like very much. For example, death is not invincible."
The man finally closed his smile and looked at the man in front of him: "Dylan Thomas..."
These two poems seem to suddenly shorten the distance between the two. Song Rongjiang's strong sense of rejection faded involuntarily.
Before becoming a killer, Song Rongjiang was a somewhat literary and sensitive young man in his youth. In his various notebooks and notes, he would copy the poems of famous poets.
Those things have long been integrated into his life and become part of his soul.
"Hello Song Rongjiang, my name is Su Hui." Su Hui said and made a simple opening, his fingers folded together, as if chatting with a friend, "I don't know you well enough, so I want to come here with you. chat."
Song Rongjiang turned from sideways to sitting upright, and was finally willing to talk to him: "It's interesting, I've been locked here for a few months, and my parents haven't been here. You're the first person to come to see me. Say it. , who are you? What do you do, a reporter? A policeman? A lawyer? What are you here for?"
Before Su Hui started to ask him, he started to ask as if he was checking the household registration.
Su Hui looked at him with those beautiful eyes: "I'm a criminology teacher. I came to you, just to chat."
"Teacher? Chat?" Song Rongjiang laughed, and then he was out of breath. "What? You want to educate and influence me before I am executed? It would be more useful to send a priest or a monk."
Su Hui shook his head, then lowered his head. He covered his mouth with his hands and coughed a few times: "No, I didn't come here to influence you, but to understand you. I think your criminal behavior is typical, so I'm here with the leaders. Apply, I hope to use you as my research object to conduct some communication."
There's nothing better to get to know a murderer than to meet him in person.
Today's meeting was stamped by the police, the prison, and the School of Criminology.
The police and supervisors quickly approved it, but it was inside the academy. Su Hui wasted some time in order to run the process. Now there is still half a month before the man's execution, which means that he has at most two more times. chance to see him.
He must fully understand the man in front of him in this short period of time.
"Research object?" Song Rongjiang stared at Su Hui and sneered contemptuously. He felt that he was being treated as a guinea pig, "I'm already a dying person, why do you think I will cooperate with you?"
Those things are all in his mind, whether it is torture to extract a confession or sweet words, he can't ask. He looked at the handsome young man in front of him, wondering where his confidence came from.
Su Huisuo replied, "I have read your various case materials and related news reports before, as well as the confessions entered by the police, court records..."
Song Rongjiang said with resistance: "Then you can look at those. It's written in great detail. I've confessed everything. There's nothing to talk about now."
Su Hui didn't speak. He spread out the newspapers and showed them in front of the man. Each of the newspapers had shocking titles written on them.
"The Murder of a Woman in Huadu"
"Perverted Murderer Kills Two Women in a Row"
"Another girl in Huadu is missing, suspected murderer commits another crime"
"Taxi Murderer Song Rongjiang Finally Arrested"
"Huadu Taxi Murder Driver Sentenced to Death in First Instance"
"Song Rongjiang will be executed in one month"
The newspapers were sorted by Su Hui long ago. They were arranged in chronological order. Song Rongjiang picked up the newspapers, lowered his eyes, and swept over the words. He swallowed unconsciously, his hands trembled slightly. Not out of remorse, but out of excitement.
Song Rongjiang paid no attention to these newspapers at first.
Once he came across a news report about his crime, and at that time he felt a completely different feeling. Reading those reports, he seemed to get double the pleasure, and since then, he began to consciously search his own news and check other people's evaluation of his behavior.
Every paragraph of the report above, the description of his crime process, revisited it, which made him shudder with excitement.
Song Rongjiang had carefully read the first few reports before, and he had also cut them out and collected them. He was so familiar with those reports that he could almost recite them. The latter ones were published after he was arrested.
Su Hui waited quietly for Song Rongjiang to watch the news reports. He couldn't see his expression clearly, but he could judge that Song Rongjiang was very focused.
Song Rongjiang looked up for a while and said, "So they wrote it like this..." He frowned, "But..."
"However, do you think they didn't write enough, they were short, the layout was small, and there were deviations..." Su Hui mercilessly exposed Song Rongjiang's inner thoughts.
The last report was yesterday's latest rule of law report. There were only a few lines about Song Rongjiang's matter, mentioning that he would be sentenced to death, and the missing girl Pei Weiwei was still being searched.
The media is so fond of forgetting and chasing traffic, whether it is for idol singers or these perverted killers, it is the same.
Su Hui broke Song Rongjiang's desire again: "You want a bigger page and more attention."
Song Rongjiang listened to his words and did not speak. That is the vanity he still retains even though he is in prison.
He has been mediocre all his life, but he is not reconciled to this mediocrity. He never thought that he would eventually become famous for murder, but unfortunately it is notorious.
Then Song Rongjiang saw a stack of photos on the side, which were taken by the police at the scene where the body was thrown. He stretched out his hand and wanted to take the photos and examine them carefully.
Su Hui didn't look at all, stretched out his hand and held down the photo: "If you cooperate with me, I can say hello to the prison guard and leave you a physical evidence photo."
Song Rongjiang wanted those photos as a medium for him to "reminisce" about his crimes. He withdrew his hand and looked at Su Hui, as if he was still hesitating at the end, then he folded his arms: "What exactly do you want to talk about?"
"Tell me about your story and your upbringing. You are a serial killer, and studying you is very representative and has far-reaching significance for criminology." Su Hui stated indifferently and indifferently, "As far as I am currently The information you have, your confession is not very detailed, and the people who wrote these reports do not understand your behavior and inner world."
Song Rongjiang smiled silently, without denying it, he lowered his head and played with the recorder that Su Fu had placed on the table.
Su Hui's eyes were serious, and his slightly scattered eyes seemed to have demagogic magic. He whispered: "They haven't touched the real you at all. If you die here, I think it will be a pity for you. Bar."
"Touch my heart?" Having said this, Song Rongjiang seemed to be a little interested, "Then do you think you can do it?"
Su Hui nodded: "I want to give it a try, I will write you into my thesis, analyze and study your behavior, and let more people know about you..."
Also let more people beware of these beasts.
He needs to explore the dark place where the light has not yet reached through the dialogue with the murderer.
Song Rongjiang raised his chin: "If you can get me a pack of cigarettes, then I can chat with you."
This was already in his expectation, Su Hui lowered his head and showed a faint smile, a charming look on his calm and delicate face.
The author has something to say: Death is not invincible. — Dylan Thomas, "Death Is Not Invincible"
After the first loss of life, there is never another death. - Dylan Thomas, "Refused to mourn the children who died in the Great Fire of London"