Grace

There were only a few cigarettes left, and he lightly touched Qu Zhiwei's arm with the hand holding the cigarette case, "Handsome Qu, would you like one?"

"I don't smoke."

"That's right, you shouldn't be able to smoke in your job. After all, you have to deal with patients every day."

Qu Zhiwei didn't smoke because of this reason, but because he didn't like the smell of cigarettes, but he didn't explain.But looking at the quantity in the cigarette pack, it seems that Xing Dao usually smokes a lot. I don't know if it is caused by too much work pressure.

It's no wonder that Xing Dao would take the initiative to contact him, presumably this case of dumping the corpse in the suitcase has made him very troubled.

"Have you deduced the murderer's criminal journey?"

"It's obviously a deliberate revenge." Xing Dao held the steering wheel with one hand, took out a cigarette with his mouth, and then took out a lighter to light it. He took a sip and said, "I'm looking for the commonality of the three deceased. Didn't find out."

Opened the window to change the air, but the wind was very cold at this time, as soon as the slit was opened, the cold wind from outside rushed in. Qu Zhiwei hesitated for a while but did not choose to roll the window again.

"I don't think this rules out the possibility of indiscriminate killings."

"Evidence is still needed to prove that if the murder is really indiscriminate, then..." He pondered for a moment, "The murderer will probably continue to find time to change places to attack, even so, the murderer left few clues, it is difficult for us to lock murderer."

"It seems that you really don't think the man you are locking up now is a murderer."

"The police pay attention to science in handling cases, not to mention it's the 21st century, who still engages in superstition? Do you believe it?"

Qu Zhiwei did not speak.

Xing Dao didn't pay much attention to it, he only regarded him as acquiescing to his own opinion. "Because of this, I came to you to help identify whether there is a problem with that guy's mental state."

"Tell me about that man."

"It's all in the back seat, take it yourself."

Qu Zhiwei turned his head and saw that there was indeed a black folder behind the seat. He took it over and carefully browsed the contents of the form, and soon got to know the man's information.

The man who voluntarily surrendered to Xing Dao was called Zhong Ping. Born in a wealthy family after 95, his parents were both employees of the company. Zhong Ting had excellent grades and a gentle personality since he was a child. He made many friends.In high school, he chose to study liberal arts. With his excellent performance in school and an article of cross-age significance written during school, he was recommended all the way to a prestigious university.

But after he graduated, he didn’t have a job for a long time. At first, he submitted his resume to some listed companies, but he was rejected. Later, an overseas company selected him. For some reason, he missed the interview time. Since then, he has not had a formal job. , has been living at home, relying on online novels to earn money to support themselves.

He searched for his novels based on Zhong's pseudonym, and Zhong's writings are all fantasy novels, from which he infers that Zhong has a strong imagination.

Could it be that the so-called suitcase murder case was really his fantasy?

With this doubt in mind, they came to the police station after a while, and Qu Zhiwei followed Xing Dao up to the third floor, then walked through the depressing and dull corridor, and at the end stood a red-brown iron gate impressively.

Pale blue glass on both sides.

This kind of glass is one-way glass, which is specially used in the interrogation room. It can see the inside clearly from the outside, but the people inside can't see the outside scene.

Chapter 10

◎There is only a thin table and a dim orange desk lamp in the room. The man next to the desk lamp is sitting quietly on the chair, with his head lowered, his face looks haggard...◎

There was only a thin table and a dim orange desk lamp in the room. The man beside the desk lamp sat quietly on the chair, with his head bowed and his face a bit haggard.

He is Zhong Duo.

Seeing them coming, the guards took the initiative to open the door for them with a key and let them in.

When crossing the threshold, Qu Zhiwei noticed an inconspicuous scratch on the right side of the center of the door. The scratch was new and should have been made not long ago.Immediately, he glanced at other people's clothes, a trace of doubt flashed in his eyes, only for a moment, then he calmly followed Xing Dao and came in front of Zhong Ping.

Xing Dao stared at Zhong Ping's head, sighed weakly, and deliberately pulled the chair to remind him that someone was coming.

Zhong Ping slowly opened his eyes, took a look at him, and then focused all his attention on Qu Zhiwei, probably because of the new face, he stared at Qu Zhiwei for a long time, his eyes sparkling with probing light, He seemed very curious about his identity.

When he was looking at Qu Zhiwei, Qu Zhiwei was also looking at him.

As a psychiatrist, he will make a preliminary judgment from the appearance of the patient the first time he comes into contact with the patient.The feeling that Zhong Duo gave him was in line with the description in the data. He was a gentle boy, and there was no trace of hostility in him at all. Such a person was unlikely to kill anyone.

And no motive for his crime could be found from the documents.

Now I understood why Xing Dao didn't believe that Zhong Ping was the murderer when he killed him. If he had a fierce face and a more irritable and angry personality, he would be more convincing.

"What should we do next?" Xing Dao asked Qu Zhiwei in a low voice.

"You all go out, I want to talk to him alone."

"OK, I'll leave the rest to you."

Xing Dao went out and closed the door. There was only one policeman guarding the door, and it was very quiet inside and outside the door. The difference was that a long psychological war was about to start inside the door.

Qu Zhiwei took out a handful of colored candies from his bag and put them in the center of the table, then tapped on the table, "Want some candy? These are all my favorite flavors, I don't know what flavor you like." He said in a relaxed tone with.

"...the smell of grapes." Zhong Ding said.

He found the only purple candy from the candies, raised his body slightly and handed it to the handcuffed hands.

The right hand is very soft, there is no callus in the palm, and the index finger and middle finger are a little flat, as if caused by frequent pressing, which is quite in line with his identity as an online novelist.

He thought for a while, and said straight to the point: "I am the psychiatrist invited by Captain Xing, I think you should have guessed it."

Zhong Ping was not too surprised by his frankness, but said calmly: "There were psychologists who came to see me before you, do you know how they summed up my performance?"

"I don't know about this, and Captain Xing didn't tell me about it." He changed his sitting position sideways, leaning on the back of the chair casually, with his legs stacked, his left hand supporting his head, and his right elbow deliberately resting on the armrest superior.This is the sitting posture that Qu Zhiwei is most used to, and he always uses this sitting posture every time he listens to a story. This is his way of relaxing, and it is easy for the people opposite to relax after seeing it. "Why don't you tell me."

"They all said I was sane."

"Then I understand why Captain Xing insisted on me talking to you."

As he spoke, he smiled calmly, took out the pen and notebook in his coat pocket, and then flipped through the latest handwriting on the notebook, which was exactly what he jotted down when he answered the phone yesterday.

He quickly drew a circle on the paper with a pen, then turned the book around and put it in front of the clock, "Why use a red suitcase? Like you like purple grapes, are you sensitive to color?"

"You misunderstood, I don't like purple, if there is a white glucose fruit, I will eat it too."

"Then killing and eating sugar have similar parts. Do you choose to kill based on your preferences?"

"You think I'm a murderer, and you think I'm killing people indiscriminately?" Zhong Ping asked with interest.

"Why do you ask me back? Aren't you the one who voluntarily surrendered and said that he killed someone? You are the one who knows the most about whether he killed someone and whether he was the murderer." Qu Zhiwei knew very well that what Zhong Ding just said was a The trap question, unfortunately, there can only be one "general" in psychological warfare, and the power held in his hand can never be distributed to the other party. Zhong Ping is his prisoner, and he is absolutely not qualified to take power in turn.

Zhong Ping's expression froze for a moment, he fell silent, and once again lowered his head and stared at his knees motionlessly, as if his thinking also stopped.Just when Qu Zhiwei thought he would not say anything more, he suddenly raised his face and said to Qu Zhiwei, "I know I'm not the murderer."

He said this sentence very calmly, and he didn't care what kind of waves his words could cause in other people's hearts.

"Has your character always been so contradictory and repeated, so that what you said before and after is also contradictory." Qu Zhiwei mocked.

"You know the story of Zhuang Zhou's dream of a butterfly, right?"

"It's a very famous story, what does it have to do with your murder?"

Zhong Duo's expression became complicated, he frowned, as if he was very distressed. "Actually, I killed the person in my dream. I dreamed that I became another person. Through the perspective of that person, I saw the whole process of the murder. Although the time and space that appeared in the dream were different, what happened seemed to be the same. Consistently, I could feel the warm blood splashing on my face."

"You mean that you became a murderer in your dream, and you can empathize with him, so you think the dream happened for real, and you think that you killed the three dead."

"But I can't figure out why the dead body came to real life when the person was killed in a dream?"

"Heh, since it's an absurd story, it's normal that you can't justify it."

"Sure enough, you don't believe everything I said."

Qu Zhiwei sat upright, separated his legs, and crossed his hands on his lap.He put his hands on his cheeks, opened his mouth and blew into his palms, and replied in an apologetic tone: "To be honest, I really can't believe the story you told."

"What if I can prove that Zhuang Zhou's dream of a butterfly really happened?"

Qu Zhi