Chapter 4: Chapter 3 : Lack of Information

Shortly after finishing the interrogation, Lieutenant Khem asked Mr. Danai, the taxi driver, to return, not forgetting to inform him that if there were any additional questions, he would send for him again. All the information currently available, didn't seem to be able to connect to anything, so Singha elected to request a report from every unit in the area, and then returned to the office, followed by the young suspect.

“Inspector, this is the case report, this is the interrogation report, and this is the preliminary result of the autopsy from the forensic department.” Said Lieutenant Kem who had just entered. He looked at Singha and then turned his gaze to the young man standing in the corner of the room. “Um, inspector, won't you put the suspect in the cell as usual?”

Singha did not immediately respond. He only turned to look at the young man, who showed signs of agitation. There were many things that raised questions regarding this young prisoner. Number one: even knowing that his defense was nonsense, he stuck to it. Number two: I didn't have a cell phone.

Damn!

In the middle of the conversation, the young man's stomach growled, followed by the laughter of an older police officer standing in front of the door.

"I'm sorry."

“It's already three in the morning. Inspector, do you want sandwiches or rice? “I’m going out to look for something.”

“Buy whatever you want, and bring me a cup of coffee,” Singha said before doing anything else, as he gave money to his subordinate, and sat down at his usual table.

“Young man, do you want something?” Although the boy did not seem like a suspect since there is not enough evidence to conclude that he really was one, they could not treat him any other way. So the officer spoke to Lieutenant Khem.

“Can I bring a box lunch, please? And a bag of mate is fine for Officer Liang,” Lieutenant Khem said, waving a purple bill back and forth. Thup turned and looked at the person reading the document with pleading eyes. He continued to stare at him like that even though Singha didn't look up, until finally the young inspector couldn't help but speak in annoyance.

“If you want to ask for something, just ask for it. The officer on duty can bring it to you.”

“Very good inspector. Then, I'll be right back.”

When Lieutenant Khem left, the room fell silent. The only sounds were those of leaves turning and keys being pressed. The young suspect got up with tight lips, and went to sit on the sofa, being careful not to make any noise that would disturb the concentration of those who were working. Fatigue gradually took over his body, and his eyelids began to feel heavy. . He slapped his cheek repeatedly, because he did not want to fall asleep, as he was afraid that when he woke up, he would appear in the cell.

Singha, who was reading the case report, suddenly heard the sound coming from the sofa, and looked up. He looked at the young suspect in front of him. It could be said that he had very little information about his history, since there is almost nothing to find. It was just a person who moved to the city while studying at university. He previously lived in a province in the northeastern region. There was no clear history of the parents, but the one who completed the documents upon entering the university was Luang Pu.

“What do you usually do in your free time?” Singha asked, still not looking up.

"I? Are you asking me?”

“Well, in this room, there are only two of you and me. So who else would I be asking?”

"Oh excuse me." Thup responded, turning left and right suspiciously. “I just lie down and watch movies or draw pictures.”

"What other thing?"

“Oh, just that. “I don’t go out much.”

“Why don't you go out?”

“Because there are things outside that I don't want to see.”

“And you still decide to go to the forest in the middle of the night? Do you know that you are getting closer and closer to the profile of a criminal?”

“I, I think something like this has happened before.”

"What does that mean."

“The thing about the eyes and mouths sewn with red thread. “I think I’ve seen that before.”

Singha lowered the file in his hand before crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the incense sticks without blinking.

“Inspector, it doesn't matter if you don't believe what I say. I just wanted to tell you that, for what it's worth.”

Thup pursed his lips before letting out a deep sigh. He usually didn't like to talk to anyone unless it was necessary. And even more so when it comes to himself. He never thought of talking about it but with the person in front of him, it was different, Singha made him feel that he would be safe if he talked and was with him.

“I see ghosts. I've seen them since I was little. At first I thought it would be temporary, but it wasn't. When I lived in the temple, Luang Pu helped me all the time. I never had friends my age because I couldn't tell the difference between real people and ghosts. My grandfather gave me a necklace before he died, they told me that after I was born, there was an event. Before dreaming about the forest scene, I remember seeing a young woman with her eyes and lips sewn with red thread. So it's not the first time I've seen something like this.” Thup felt afraid, because he saw that the young inspector did not respond at all. “That's all I wanted you to know.”

“Here you have an inspector. I brought him some beef with basil and a rare fried egg. As for this kid, you look like someone who doesn't eat spicy food, so I bought you fried rice. Can you eat it?” Lieutenant Khem's voice interrupted him. Thup looked away and looked at the lunch box, he smiled widely unconsciously. Hunger and fatigue almost woke him up and he momentarily forgot his fear.

“Thank you very much, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Khem. “Take him to eat.”

Singha stood up and left the room without saying anything, causing the young man's heart to shake. He knew his story was hard to believe, especially for those who didn't seem to believe it. Will Singha be like this? He didn't think the young inspector believed what he was telling him, but he just wanted to be useful.

“Have I made the inspector angry?” Thup murmured to Inspector Khem, who came over to give him the food.

"No, the old inspector is like that, I think he's just frustrated with the case."

“And you, Lieutenant Khem, do you think he will surrender?”

“Not really, because the inspector is someone decisive. If he really believes that someone is the culprit, then this person would already be sleeping in Sangtae. Now come, eat something. You can’t do it with the handcuffs, so I’ll take them off, but after we eat, I’ll have to put them back on.”

“Thank you,” Thup smiled and bowed his head, grateful.

….

The young police inspector walked out to the station parking lot while taking out a well-known brand cigarette and holding it in his hand, lit it and inhaled the nicotine, letting out white smoke. Nicotine is pumped into your lungs in long bursts to extinguish some of the chaotic thoughts that filled your head. After smoking half a cigarette, he grabbed his phone. He called an acquaintance who worked at the Central Investigation Unit. It was 3 am. A sleepy voice sounded from the other end of the line.

“Damn Mek, please find the information for me.”

[Let me sleep.]

“This is a case of mass murder. The eyes and mouths of the victims were sewn with red thread.”

[Do you even listen to me?]

“The incident may have occurred many years ago. Locate all the information you can find about similar murders.”

[Damn, wait a second.]

A rattle was heard on the other end of the line, causing the inspector to drop his first cigarette on the floor and stomp on it until it died at his feet. He immediately took out a new one and turned it on.

[Why do you suddenly want to know about a case that happened five years ago?]

"Five years ago?"

[Yes, I have a report about a similar case, which happened five years ago. Oh wait, no, there's another one that happened ten years ago.] Singha's eyebrows furrowed. [None were resolved, and they have never been closed. Although I don't know why.]

“I want to know why I'm dealing with this damn case right now. Please send all the information you have.”

[In that case, I have to notify the commander.]

“Don't do it yet, your commander will show up and complicate the case. Let’s find out more if we can find something else.”

[OK.]

“So, that's it.” Singha hung up the phone before injecting another load of nicotine into his lungs. If this case had really happened before, and the culprit was not caught previously, it would become a dangerous thing!

Singha returned to the office. He heard some laughter coming from inside, which made him roll his eyes. When he opened the door, he found the image of his own subordinate, sitting, talking kindly to the troublesome boy. Furthermore, there was an empty lunch box on the table.

“Don't you have any work to do, Lieutenant?”

“Right now, no inspector. I just wait for your orders.”

“They will send me some information, please receive it for me.”

"Yes sir. When it arrives, shall I take it to your house?”

"No."

"Understood."

After Lieutenant Khem left the room, Singha forwarded the email he received from a friend who worked at the Central Investigation Unit before scrolling to view each victim's history in detail.

“Mr. Inspector. “Can I sleep please?”

“Don't you want to shower too? Or do you prefer a soft bed?”

"Could that be possible?" the boy asked excitedly, but when he saw the fierce look in her eyes, he had to sit down and bundle up like before. I couldn't sleep. He looked at the table in front of him, a blank piece of paper and a wooden pencil. The young man sat on the ground, and took both things to draw, because if he stayed still, he would definitely fall asleep. In the room at this time, there was only the noise of paper turning and the sound of pencil dragging.

Singha read the stories of all the victims to find connections, but after reading about their disparate ages, the occupations, residences, jobs and even lifestyles of the seven people, he found nothing in common. Serial killers often choose victims who have something in common with them, whether it be physical characteristics, or something like that. But this did not happen at all. They only had one thing in common, and that was the way they died. Singha opened the email that his friend sent him, and began to read it carefully. One of the cases occurred ten years ago, in a northern province. A total of seven people died, and all seven also had their eyes and mouths sewn with red thread. Upon reading the story, he discovered that it was similar to what he was experiencing. That is, there was no relationship between the victims. It was similar to five years ago.

So how did the criminal choose his victims? They were of different ages, occupations. Could it have something to do with their religion, or the area where they lived?

All the papers were placed on the table. Singha read and looked at the information about each victim's background and religion. Then he found satisfactory answers. All the victims, whether from recent events or from five years ago, even the one from ten years ago, all practiced the same religion.

They all believed in Buddhism.

This was the only connection point found so far.

Suddenly, a dull sound of a person collapsing onto the table made him look up. He got up from his desk and walked over to look at what the young man was doing, only to discover that he had been drawing. He took the other's work and looked at it before frowning. It was a photo of him sitting and working with a serious expression on his face. He observed this boy's abilities, and understood that saying he was an independent artist was not an exaggeration. Singha shook his head slightly. He returned to his original place, and took his jacket, placing it on the young man.

After covering it properly, he left the room, not forgetting to close the door, from outside. Taking long steps, he headed towards the autopsy room to examine the victim's body again.

Inside the autopsy room, where the temperature was colder than normal. The bodies of all the victims had been stored in a temperature-controlled closet. Singha looked back at the morgue. I knew I had to review each cabinet, the information on religious beliefs was not enough. I had to find the murderer. He wanted that more than anything else, in this case, the murderer had to be caught.

Thup regained consciousness after hearing the sound of the door closing. He woke up with a shiver, his slender hand grasping the pitch-black leather cloak on his head and holding it before searching for its owner. But he didn't see anyone in the room. His full lips lifted in a slight smile, as the jacket smelled good. Who said the inspector was a fierce person? It was not.

He hadn't had time to rest and couldn't take it anymore. But then, he started to hear a sound like nails scraping against a wooden door, it was loud enough to make him feel scared. When he slowly turned to look, he was met with a dark shadow. Suddenly, the girl's spirit was outside the glass door again.

"What do you want?" He asked in a broken voice, but the answer was only a muffled voice outside. “Are you the person who did this?”

Before he finished speaking, a loud knock was heard on the door, which was crushed and shaken. It was as if the person outside was filled with anger. The young man trembled with fear. He hugged the jacket tightly and tried to close his eyes. But again, his heart wanted to know who was on the other side of the door. And what exactly does she want from him? The muffled voice he heard as a child and the voice he heard now definitely did not seem to be the same.

She was that ghost he had known in his childhood.

The door opened wide and a strong bright light came inside. What he saw through the curtain of tears was not the ghost of a terrifying woman, but a pair of faces.

“Let me see the security camera.”

“Understood, Inspector.”

“What happened this time, huh?” Thup turned to look in the direction the person in front of him was pointing. He discovered that the door had long claw marks that were now visible in the wood.

"You will not say anything?"

“I think what she probably wants is me.”