Gregory said, "I think we should talk to our neighbors and see if anyone sees anything weird this afternoon."
I turned to Gregory and said, "Slow down, Retodi. The victim was not killed here today. She has been dead for at least one day, maybe two days." In my life, I have seen too many The corpse is enough to distinguish the difference between freshness and obsession. Ginny Fass is a stalker.
Gregory scoffed at this and turned to Caitlin to confirm that I was an idiot and asshole. She nodded and said, "He was right. I can't be sure before the autopsy, but she seems to have been dead for at least 6 hours."
At this time, I inserted Shadow’s thumb into Shadow’s ass. Gleason tried to hide her grin with her hands, Caitlin snickered pretending to be coughing. Todd didn't seem to notice that when a young officer pattered down the deck stairs and approached our group of four, I was going to be more creative with my shadow movements. We all turned around at the same time, he nodded to Caitlin, and asked: "Are you Doltz Jǐng?"
The officer was wearing a tan uniform, with the letters PCS engraved on the name tag on the uniform. Later I learned that he was from the office of Chief Jǐng in Penobscot County.
Caitlin nodded, "That's me."
Jǐngcha raised his head to the house and said, "There is a young Jǐngcha here. He said he is your brother."
"Connor is here?"
"Yes, that's his name." He paused, then added, "Uh, he has an important call for you."
Caitlin looked at him and said, "Let him take a message and I will call them back. Didn't you see that I was busy? I want to find the guy who cut that girl to thirty yuan."
Even at dusk, the officer's face was obviously red. He turned around, seeming to have plucked up his courage again. "It's just that if this person is really your brother, then other things he said may be true."
The whole group took a step forward collectively, and I asked, "What else is there?"
"The guy who called—" A wry smile slowly appeared on Officer Jǐng's face. "Tristen Greer"
The five of us trot steadily along the waterfront, up the stairs, through the house, and out the front door. There were about seven Jǐng cars scattered on the football field in the front yard. Jǐng pointed at a gentleman standing on the edge of the blockade at the crime scene. The young man looked in his early twenties, with broad shoulders, short, almost fluffy blond hair. If you like that tall and handsome man, then he is handsome. Even from a distance of fifty feet, I can tell that he and his sister have two things in common: sky blue eyes and zero patience.
He knocked down the thin Jǐngcha who was trying to stop him, and slowly walked towards the crowd approaching us. The skinny Jǐngcha was about to get his handcuffs, Caitlin interrupted him, "It's okay. He is my brother, he is a Jǐngcha."
Caitlin turned to Connor and asked, "Why are you wearing civilian clothes?"
He said: "I was on the way to the Jǐng Bureau when I received the call."
Eight eyes were fixed on the phone held in Connor's right hand, and the screen was close to his thigh. Caitlin asked awkwardly: "Did he find me personally?"
"He called the station and asked to be transferred to you, but they accidentally connected him to me."
Gregory asked: "What else did he say?"
"Nothing. He said he had a message for the detective and asked me to find her. I told him to die, and then he told me who he was. I don't even know if he is still online."
Caitlin took a deep breath - the rest of us too - took the call from Connor. She said, "Doctor, who am I talking to?"
She began to walk around a small semicircle, and I could only hear a short conversation, "How do I know that it is you?"? Alright, alright, enough... Stop it! Please... About an hour ago... Thank you for being so considerate... Go to hell, you... "
Gregory snatched the phone from Caitlin and said perfunctorily: "Todd Gregory, the special agent in charge." Gregory took out a booklet. I can only imagine this little one. The name of the booklet is "Serial Killer Calling Procedure Manual", and he said: "Are you willing to surrender?"
I was gagged psychologically, and made eye contact with Caitlin. I walked over and asked her, "Are you okay?"
She nodded, and I asked, "What did he say?"
"He thought we hadn't found Ginny yet. He called to tell us where to find her. Then he started telling me what he did to her. How did she beg him to stop. How did he climb onto herー" She shook her head silently, and quickly buried her head in my chest. She grabbed herself, straightened up, and said, "We should really listen."
On our way back to the group, Gregory flipped through four or five pages of his pamphlet, and then read: "We can help you. What do you want from us?"
I've had enough. I snatched the phone from Gregory’s catwalk model and pressed the end button. Gregory stammered: "Why are you doing this? We need to take some measures. I just follow federal procedures."
I said calmly, "He will call you back."
Gregory buried his face in his hands, then glared at me incredulously. "No, he won't call back. This is not a movie, you idiot. This is real life. In real life, when you hang up a serial killer, he doesn't call it ba- -"
Gregory's anger was interrupted by a cell phone ringing. I noticed that Caitlin forced a smile to send when I was frustrated and put the phone in my ear. I cleared my throat and said, "Jack in the box."
I looked at Gregory and he seemed to be doing deep breathing exercises, trying to find his breath. It could also be his 9mm caliber pistol.
Tristen didn't find this interesting. "Who are you?"
"Can you wait? I have another phone." I took the ringing cell phone from my pants pocket and answered the call. It's Lacey. She wants to know if I can take her to the doctor tomorrow morning. I told her of course I would, and then hung up the phone. I coughed with my hand, then went back to my friend Triston. "I'm sorry. You were talking just now."
He slowly said: "Who are you?"
"Thomas Prescott. But you can call me King Tom, the great Thomas, or the one who is going to cut your cock off and put it in your throat."
I can hear him panting on the phone. Then he said: "Thomas Prescott. I saw your name in the newspaper. Big shot serial killer Mr. Hunter" He paused, then added: "So, what do you think of my current job? "
"I've seen better ones." Solemnly declare that I haven't.
"I just warmed up."
It took me a second to digest this and, strangely, it felt like indigestion. I said, "Can I ask you a question?" I didn't wait to answer, "Why is it her? Why is Ginny Fass?"
"She needs pain."
"Why? Why does she suffer?"
He said solemnly: "This way he will suffer."
he? "Who is he, you bastard?"
He didn't answer, I asked, "Tristen? Are you there? A trivial matter?"
I looked at Gregory, Gleason, and Caitlin, then shrugged. I handed the phone to Gregory and asked him: "When a serial killer hung up your phone, what did your little manual say?"
When it was almost nine o'clock, Lacey finally approved an acceptable hanging location to hang her gorgeous painting. (If you must know, it is the wall opposite her bed. She hopes this is the first picture she sees after her eyesight has recovered. My idea.) As for the painting, it is beautiful. Lacey has a unique style, which captures the spirit and emotions of Lacey. She drew the picture in her head, and it was her signature. Even when she has eyesight, she will draw on her eyelids.
After Lacey and I hung up her picture, I called Caitlin. After a cordial conversation, the two of us agreed on a dinner date later that evening. This restaurant is in Austin. It is a high-end restaurant with good seafood and excellent steaks. It happens to be located in Hampden, right at Zhōng Yāng in point a of my house, and point b in Caitlin's apartment in Bangor.
I was ten minutes late before driving into the Austin parking lot. It was a Sunday night, I was expecting a lot, but there were only two other cars. Oh, how the seasons change. I parked the car next to Caitlin's Red Pathfinder, and couldn't help thinking how I did this without the help of wine.
Every restaurant in Maine smells the same, as if they use lobster poop to insulate them. What distinguishes Austin is its low-key and high-quality wines. I bypassed the hostess and walked into the restaurant. When I ate here last time, it looked like a concert by the Leopard Band, and now it looks like a colony of deaf and leprosy patients. There was only an old couple sitting in the small pavilion in the back corner. They looked like they had just finished a legionary battle. Caitlin was sitting at the table drinking a glass of lemonade.
If I think I look good, Caitlin looks better. She wore a small black dress, without leaving much room for imagination. Her hair curled up, and strands of dirty blonde hair dangling beside her trembling blue eyes. When I approached, she stood up. After a few seconds, we decided to hug, or someone hugs, and I kissed her gently on the cheek.
She held my waist and beat for too long in the slow and rhythmic brass instrument, and neither of us knew how to continue. (To be continued) (End of this chapter)