At the same time, in a small conference room not far from the detention room, the situation in the detention room was being shown on the screen. A few people were standing in front of the screen, watching carefully.
"He didn't show any emotion when he saw the photo. He wasn't excited or guilty like a typical murderer," Elle said.
Greenaway, a member of BAU, was a beautiful and capable woman. She was an expert in sex crimes and was also good at handling abduction cases.
"He didn't show the fear or shock of a typical person," Morgan added.
"He was like a bystander, cold and unaffected," Reid said. "He made people … afraid."
"Our profile of the Unsub is: male between 18 and 25 years old, impulsive, as he showed to the first victim, disorganized wounds, and the neck wound was caused by an emotional mistake — unexpected, he didn't intend to kill her. This may be the reason why we didn't ask Mr. Jones about any close relationship with the first victim from the town or from the school. They may not have known each other well, just nodding acquaintances. The Unsub has a good appearance, at least the kind that girls like. His grades aren't necessarily good, but he has a strong body … "Elle paused." Mr. Jones doesn't look very strong in his clothes, but there's no doubt that he has an eight-pack. We just dragged him out of the bed and brought him here.
"The Unsub has a tendency to be violent. He abused the victims and used a sharp weapon to cause many wounds. He might live in an unhappy family, one that treats children coldly or violently. He might also be a single-parent family that is busy making a living and neglecting children. Something must have happened to him recently, and it wasn't a good thing. This stimulated him to start killing people. It could also be that he accidentally killed the first victim, which stimulated him and made him more aggressive. Half a month ago, he killed the second victim, and now it's the third. "
"The Unsub's cycle is getting shorter and shorter, and …"
There was a knock on the door, and a police officer walked in. "We searched Jones' house and found these …"
"Tell Gideon and Hotch immediately."
In the detention room, Gideon took some things from the police officer and placed them on the table. There were two items, both in sealed bags.
Gideon pushed one of the boxes in front of Bruce. "First of all, this is a hand, gun case, empty." He rummaged through the folder again and took out a photo. "This is the hand and gun found at the crime scene. We've already taken it for fingerprint testing. The results aren't out yet, but it should be out soon."
Bruce glanced at the photo and said slowly, "The gun is mine." He pointed at the "S" -shaped scratch on the photo. "I made the mark myself."
"So, you admit it?"
"No, it's a broken gun. I tried to modify it a year ago, but it was broken. Although it's not obvious from the outside, I damaged some of the delicate parts inside. I'm not going to kill someone with a gun that won't shoot. "
"You know how to modify weapons?" Gideon asked.
"Of course …" Brosnan paused. "I won't. You can think of it as some kind of young and frivolous attempt, the kind that thinks I can succeed if I want to. After that, I put the gun in the gun case and never looked at it again. I don't know why it appeared at the crime scene. "
In fact, it was a sudden idea that came to Bruce one day. He thought of the bullets with various attributes in the dimension, such as flame bullets, ice bullets, holy bullets, and so on. He could freeze the moisture in the air into ice, but it was very difficult, even more difficult than making a light snow. God knows why this unscientific talent could make it snow whenever he wanted. So he started the ice bullet test one, two, three, and because he knew nothing about enchantments or runes, the bullet was indeed frozen, but he was sure that it did not have the freezing effect that would slow down the enemy and break his gun.
"You carved an S on it. What's the meaning of this?"
"It's probably, snow."
"Why?"
"God knows what inexplicable reason. I want to carve it right now." Bruce put his hand under his chin and tried to open his drooping eyes. He yawned sleepily. "Should we move on to the next topic now?"
Gideon stared at Bruce for a while before taking back the photo of the gun. "Okay, next topic."
"The cut of the victim is considered to be from a long sharp weapon, more than 50 centimeters, not a short weapon like a dagger. This can be determined from the change in depth of the wound. And we found this in your house. It's a long knife, about one meter long. "
"The blade is 87.8 centimeters long. I custom-made it. It's sharp enough to be maintained regularly. " It was the same pattern and length as the "Snow Walk" that he was used to. Of course, the material was the same as the kitchen knife.
"Then how do you plan to explain this? We think you used this weapon to cause these wounds. " Gideon said and pointed to the photos spread on the table, the photos of the victims' bodies.
Bruce glanced at the photos on the table, and the corners of his mouth curved into a mocking smile. He said in a low, but clear and slow voice, "I think this is an insult to me."
"What do you mean?" Gideon spread out his hands.
Bruce put his left hand on the knife in the sealed bag. "Step back a little. I have no intention of attacking the police."
"Don't move." The two police officers behind Bruce immediately raised their guns and pointed at him.
"What do you want to do?" Gideon asked.
"Show me something, although it's impossible to hurt you sitting here." Bruce's hand on the knife didn't move. His right hand casually moved the photos on the table together. "Please step back, Agent Gideon, lest they think I hurt you and shoot."
"Okay, let me see what you want to do." Gideon motioned for the police officers behind Bruce to come over.
Watching the three of them walk to the only door in the room and point their guns at him, Bruce opened the sealed bag. His left hand reached in and grabbed the scabbard under the handle. Then he shook it and let the sealed bag slide down. In order to show that he was not in any danger, he deliberately slowed down.
"Watch carefully."
Bruce picked up the ragged photos with his right hand and casually threw them into the air. Then, with a clang, a saber light flashed.
When the photos fell to the ground, each photo was cut in half from the middle. There were more than ten photos without exception.
Then Bruce put the knife back into the scabbard and slowly put it back on the table. He pushed it away from him, then raised his hands and took a few steps back. A police officer immediately came up and took the knife.
"It's …" Gideon organized his words. "Amazing. How did you do it? "
"Who knows?" Bruce sat down. After a while, his head was even dizzier. He felt that the world in front of him was spinning. "But, if it were me, I wouldn't have such a clumsy wound."
"That's not a reason. You might have done it on purpose …"
Bruce leaned weakly against the back of the chair and said nonchalantly, "You can think whatever you want. But I think … I need some help. "
"What help? You think you're being forced to do something uncontrollably? Something you don't want to do? You know, maybe there's a devil living in some people's hearts. "
Bruce looked at Gideon subtly. "No, I need a doctor. I have a fever. I think it's at least 40 degrees."
When the doctor arrived and diagnosed that his temperature was 42 degrees and that he needed to be injected with medicine, Bruce waved at Gideon. It was a goodbye gesture.
the
Way, Ellison Taylor, he's the only person who can enter my room and take something I don't use often without me noticing. Based on the housekeeping I need every week. Seriously, if you really want to find Elena, don't waste any more time on me. "
When Bruce felt better, it was already evening. He walked out of the police station and happened to run into the BAU team. They had just finished their case and were about to fly back to Quantico.
Bruce glanced at them and turned in the other direction, the direction of his home.
Suddenly, a suit was draped over him. Bruce turned around and saw Hotch, the BAU agent who had been in the detention room with Gideon but hadn't said a word.
"This temperature isn't friendly for a person with a fever," Hotch said. "We saved the girl. Thank you for your help." He extended his hand to Bruce.
Bruce looked at Hotch. They were about the same height, so Bruce could easily meet the pair of black eyes that were similar to his. He shook Hotch's hand and then looked away. "Agent Hotch, perhaps some people really do have a demon living in their hearts. Who knows when they will …" He took a deep breath and continued, "Boom … You know what I mean."
"Then, watch it, resist it … defeat it."
Bruce looked back and met Hotch's unusually serious expression. He heard Hotch's voice. "There aren't many things in the world crueler than killing one of your own."
The two looked at each other for a while, and Bruce suddenly smiled. There was a dimple on his right cheek that could only be seen when he smiled. The smile gave off the feeling of childlike innocence. "What are the requirements for the FBI to recruit people?"
"You can find out the details on the FBI's official website. Good
bye。”
Good
bye...
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