[Zhongyingmei] That snake

This African-American residential area in South Los Angeles is not deserted. There are two rows of old buildings sandwiching a small road that can only accommodate a car. It rained last night, and the blue sky was divided by random wires. .Brown sewage oozes from the rain-washed trash cans beside the street.

A pair of black high-heeled shoes stepped on the sewage, and the water splashed on the mesh stockings of the owner of the high-heeled shoes. She cursed a few times in disgust.

Oliver's vision suddenly turned blood red, and the pool of water turned into foamy blood, and the woman's curses exploded in his ears like gunshots.

Shit, come again! Oliver closed his eyes, rubbed his temples with his fingers to wake himself up, and when he opened his eyes again, everything was as usual, and he trotted to catch up with Morgan and Hotch who had walked a distance.

To be honest, Oliver didn't think there was any harm in this hallucination except that it sometimes interfered with the audiovisual. This small problem can be overcome by himself. Anyway, he will not go to Baltimore to see the psychiatrist with special hobbies.

After the sound of high-heeled shoes moved away, Morgan turned around and saw that the black woman was a resident here, obviously a sex worker, and he asked slightly worried: "The news of the murder has been reported, are they still alone?" Traveling, it is very dangerous, do you need to ask the government to remind the public to pay attention to safety?"

Oliver, who had read the newspaper, recalled the content of the newspaper, and frowned, "Those newspapers exaggerated the evil and cruelty of unsub, and there were politicians who clamored for racism in the current affairs section." Only there was no additional reminder of the area Women stay safe.

In nature, it is not uncommon for animals to kill each other, but only humans kill their own kind for fun.

The irony is that people often pay the most attention to the murderer rather than the victim in a murder case. They comment on these serial killers through newspapers and TV to kill their own energy that has nowhere to be used.

But those dead victims are buried in the ground. A hundred years later, when people talk about this tragedy after dinner, they often only use a few numbers to include these suffering souls.

"The Grim Sleeper," Oliver said in a low voice, "the reporters call the unsub."

"Williams, the bau rarely calls serial killers those titles," Hotch began. "These people deserve to be forgotten and lost forever in the torrent of history."

"If people remember these murderers, they will re-victimize the victims," ​​Oliver said sarcastically, "but the reporters in Los Angeles obviously don't realize this."

Hotch glanced at Oliver inexplicably, "Let's go, hurry up."

Hotch knocked on the house where the last victim had lived. The iron door was rusty with age and even opened the door with a harsh sound.

It was a petite black woman who opened the door. Her eyes looked at the three of them through the narrow door, and she asked vigilantly, "Who are you?"

After showing her FBI ID, she reluctantly let the three of them enter the house to talk. This is a typical rental house, simple and cheap. The victim, Amy, is just an ordinary girl, while her roommate, Luna, is a University Students.

Htch asked Morgan to go forward and communicate with her, "Miss Luna, we are here for Amy, the victim of the case, and I hope you can cooperate with us to answer some questions."

Luna crossed her arms, and didn't ask the three of them to sit down, but said impatiently: "Amy and I are just roommates, so we don't know much about it."

"Can we see her room?"

Luna looked like she wanted to refuse, but curled her lips and agreed, "It's up to you, but I have already cleaned up her room, so you may not find anything."

"Why?" Morgan was surprised that Luna didn't seem to like her roommate very much.

"She, she always makes a mess of the room, if I don't help her, how can there be people in her small house?" Luna turned her head away, "I helped her clean the room as usual that morning, and then the police came Inform me of her death."

"Please grief."

The girl waved her hand and said, "Go and see."

The room was tidy and tidy. The green radish placed in front of the window was a little yellow because it hadn't been exposed to the sun all year round, but every leaf was not dusty.

Oliver opened the drawer, and inside were various syringes and unsealed condoms.

Amy's life style was almost covered by Luna, and Oliver returned to the living room without finding anything superfluous.

"You know Amy is a daughter-in-law, right?" Oliver asked.

Luna nodded.

"Then does she usually bring guests back?"

"It used to be, but some time ago I was preparing for the exam and couldn't stand the noise next door. After that, she will solve it outside. I hurt her."

"Everyone has their own fate, it's not your fault." Oliver comforted weakly.

"Do you know the drugs in her room?"

"Of course, sometimes when I'm tired of studying and want to ask her for advice, she always refuses me. She said that she can't quit by herself, so she can't drag me down." Luna raised her head and looked at the three of them, "She Really nice guy, trust me,"

"No matter how others look at her, no matter how loose, vulgar, and decadent she is, the police always detain her, and the neighbors don't like her very much. She is a good person. Will you catch the murderer?"

"We'll do our best." Hotch nodded.

Leaving Luna's house, Oliver stared at the wet concrete floor and said as he walked: "I found an open pack of condoms in Amy's drawer. She will do insurance work when she invites guests. But when she was killed There is the murderer's semen and fluid in the body. The murderer is not a female ticketer."

"If the murderer lived here and had a cowardly character, he wouldn't have the spare cash to recruit girls," Morgan analyzed.

"Hotch?"

"The victim knows the unsub, even familiar with each other." Hotch looked around, and felt a lot of eyes since he walked in here, nothing malicious, just the attention of outsiders, "He does live here, when the victim walked with him When we are together, no one will suspect."

"Do you still remember the place where you were killed? In a remote and deserted alley, unsub can gain their trust."

People are always like this, relying too much on what they see with their own eyes, but it is undeniable that everyone has a dark side that is completely opposite to the appearance mask, that is a beast hiding in the shadows, when the prey relaxes its vigilance Strip away all pretense and tear apart innocent prey.

The next victim, Cate, lived alone, so Hotch could only knock on the neighbor's door to ask for clues.

"fbi?" A gray-haired old man opened the door. He took Hotch's ID and put on reading glasses to look carefully. "Is it about Cate?"

"Yes."

"I'm not surprised by her death at all. She has been involved in so many games, but she is still restless. Sometimes she gets high and scolds the street like a shrew." The old man shook his head regretfully, "I thought she would die on her own. In my hand, I didn't expect... oh."

There were nine victims in total, and the mother of the three murdered in the last century still lives here, and the neighbors of the others don't remember them.They are just ordinary people, they leave, the world goes on as usual, the neighbors change one after another, no one will remember these innocent poor girls, except bau.

The six people who were victimized recently did not have a good reputation, and the evaluations of the neighbors were similar. The obscene and crazy women are equally unpopular in the circle of women and girls. Yes, anyone can because of various The reasons for forming their own circle, but fortunately, this circle is not exclusive.

So much so that Oliver, who came forward to inquire, could hardly resist their enthusiasm. These girls tore his tie crookedly, and stuffed an unknown number of business cards into his pockets.

Normally, Oliver can chat well with women, but this "general" does not include the current situation!

It wasn't until Oliver had to show his FBI ID that the group of women with heavy makeup let him go and scattered like birds and beasts.

Oliver tore off his shabby tie dumbfounded, Morgan smiled maliciously and patted him on the shoulder, successfully getting Oliver's eyes.

Hotch was still serious, which made Oliver couldn't help thinking that it was Hotch who went, and these girls dared to provoke this FBI agent so enthusiastically.

That scene must have been terrible.

"The external image of the victim is negative, which is why the murderer chose the victim." Hotch's voice drew Oliver's attention back.

"Vigilante police," Morgan said dryly.

Visiting the victim's family was not an easy task. The three people who had missed their lunch time found a fast food restaurant near the police station to solve the problem.

Morgan and Hotch each ordered a sandwich and coffee, and Oliver also ordered a sandwich, but he refused the coffee.

Don't make trouble, he drinks coffee like he touches alcohol, either he gets excited for two or three days, or he pours it in one gulp, it's all due to his ability.

So Oliver asked for a cup of hot cocoa, and when he almost lost his teeth with the brown drink, he pushed the glass back away from him.

"No coffee?" Hotch asked.

"I'm allergic to coffee." Oliver made an excuse for himself, an excuse that couldn't be farther from the truth.

"bau needs to work overtime often, do you drink tea?"

Oliver said melancholy: "I don't drink either."

But soon, a quarrel interrupted Oliver's little mood.

"Am I not good enough!" A young black man jumped up from the bench and shouted.

Opposite him sat a middle-aged man who seemed to be his father, "Learning is a persistent thing, don't be too impatient." He said unhurriedly.

"Time, then you give me time." The young man smiled angrily.

The middle-aged man looked at him disapprovingly, "You need the guidance of your elders."

The young man didn't say anything, grabbed the backpack on the bench and rushed out of the fast food restaurant.

The middle-aged man was left looking at the other customers apologetically, met the impatient eyes of the others, shrank his body, picked up the things that the young man knocked over on the ground, and left the restaurant.

A not-so-pleasant episode made Oliver couldn't help feeling: "Young boy in the rebellious period."

Morgan said indifferently, "Haven't you ever rebelled?"

Oliver thought of his teenage life in this life, tapped the table with his right hand happily, squinted and said, "I lived in a small town before I went to college. A remote town in central Nebraska. There is no airport. Railroad, and only one road into the town."

"You have to understand that such traffic conditions doom him to be neither rich nor have a large population. There is only one middle school in the town, and I am probably that kind of kid from someone else's family."

Hotch has seen Oliver's information, he was admitted to Stanford from a small town in the middle of the country, he must be smart enough and hardworking enough.But Oliver's behavior pattern is different from most people who have such experiences.

In an ordinary middle school in a small town, or in most public middle schools, too good grades will attract insults from classmates. It is not that the title of nerd is never used after it is born, after all, it is a rebellious period.

It can be said that Oliver has a good body and will not be bullied, but he has never shown an image of being a strong person in the group.

Including why Oliver suddenly joined cia after graduating from university, Hotch had a hard time finding out the reason from his resume, and now he could only suspect that cia had sealed part of his information.

From the current point of view, Oliver is a good detective with a healthy mind. Apart from some rookie behavior, Hotch doesn't need to dig into his information.

The author has something to say: Good night, cuties, chirp~