I'm innocent [Comprehensive British American]

When BAU arrived at a police station in Minnesota, it was already three o'clock in the afternoon. After completing the handover with the local police station, they went to the last crime scene.

It was a remote place. After getting off the Postel Expressway and driving on the trail for half an hour, Reid sat on the bumpy car and swayed with the car, thinking about Qiu Chengke.

He hesitated and sent a message to Qiu Chengke, 'How can you tell who is you? '

Morgan glanced sideways, but didn't speak.

After more than ten minutes, the other side replied, "I will take the initiative to contact you. The one who is most enthusiastic about you is me." '

When Rhett showed the message to the others, Morgan murmured and didn't pay much attention.

"You don't have to worry too much about him." Morgan comforted, "No matter what happens, he will always come back safe and sound."

Rhett nodded. He put away his cell phone and looked at the scene outside the window. There were only bare woods. Why would an old man live here alone.

"If I were Berg, I wouldn't have any leisure to come here for an outing at this time." After getting out of the car, Rocker rubbed his hands coldly, exhaled, and pulled his collar tighter .

"It should be snowing soon." Morgan tightened his clothes and looked up at the gray sky.

There were also three police officers at the scene, waiting here to assist the FBI.

One of the older black police officers came over, he looked among several people, and finally reached out to Hu Qi and said, "Jeff Marcos."

"Aaron Hooch." Hooch replied.

Rocker looked suspiciously at Marcos, who was going straight to Hu Qi, and made sure that there was nothing wrong with him, at least he was not hostile to them.

Gordon, Al, and Torres stayed at the police station and did not follow. Among the people present, Hu Qi was the most like a leader.

Reid walked through the cordon and walked to the burnt old house beyond recognition. He pushed open the door with only skeletons left and walked in. He looked carefully. The flames destroyed all the clues, and the traces covered up were too much. obvious.

"Gasoline or other combustion aids were used." Reid touched the scorched earth on the ground and pondered, "What is the fatal injury of the corpse?"

"The forensic doctor is still identifying." Marcos said, "The body has been charred, and it can't be seen on the surface what happened, but we found a bullet in Berg's chest, which passed through the back."

"Bullet?" Reid said softly, "In a normal murder case, the murderer will not choose two methods at the same time. If he chooses arson to kill, he will not shoot to kill. Arson is unnecessary in this murder case, unless His real purpose of killing people is to destroy something."

"Hmm... the evidence left behind during the murder?" Marcos asked puzzled.

"It's not evidence, it's something else." Reid crossed his arms and frowned. He walked to the center of the hall, where the ground was completely scorched. "The fire started here."

When Morgan came over, he squatted down, touched the ground, and sketched the scene in his mind.

When the body was found, it was in a room on the second floor with both bodies.

The murderer killed the person on the second floor. He went back to the first floor and set the fire. Morgan squatted here and looked at the door. This place is five to six meters away from the door. Why did he set the fire here.

Morgan looked down at the ground. Something was once placed here. The thing here is the real target of the murderer, and it is also the reason for the tragic death of Berg and his grandmother.

"This arsonist doesn't seem to be the same person as the previous two." Morgan patted the ashes on his hands and said to Reid, "Serial crimes have their own crime patterns. As the number of crimes increases, the methods will become more cruel and skilled, but rarely There will be a phenomenon of changing the tools of crime.”

"That will make them feel insecure and difficult to satisfy their desire to control." Reid explained, "One of the characteristics of serial crime is that the single crime pattern."

"So what we are investigating now is an arson case that has nothing to do with the previous two arson cases?" Marcos interrupted Reid and argued, "From the end of the month to the beginning of the month, there are three incidents in six days, and the target group is the elderly living alone. , even if it wasn’t done by the same person, it should be an imitator.”

"What is the exact time of this fire?" Reed asked.

"December 12." Police officer Marcos recalled, "It rained that day, and it rarely rains this season. If it hadn't been for that rain, we wouldn't even be able to find these clues now."

Just as Reid was about to say something, his words suddenly stopped. He spoke quickly and said nervously, "If the arsonist didn't start the fire before, then tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, he will set the fire again."

"The first fire was set on the 30th, and the second fire was set on the 3rd. There was an interval of four days. Now it is the 7th." Morgan said solemnly, "If the same murderer was the same murderer in the first two arson cases, then today, he is likely to die. Move again."

........................

"Where is Josina!" Dr. Letterman hurried over and asked sharply.

The little employee who was picked up by him pointed to the printing room in the distance, "She went to print the report, she went there half an hour ago."

Dr. Letterman strode over and pushed open the door of the printing room, where Josina was fiddling with the computer.

"Where's the gift box?" Dr. Letterman asked, staring at Josina's expression.

"What gift box?" Jozina asked blankly.

Dr. Letterman said in a deep voice, "Someone sent us a bomb, what did you receive today?"

"A delivery from a friend..." Jozina stood up abruptly.

"Where." Jozina was innocent, Dr. Letterman confirmed by her puzzled expression.

"lounge."

..............................

As soon as Al pushed open the door of the police station, he heard a sharp and piercing cry.

The sound was so loud that Al stepped back in fright, and a fat woman like a hill stood in front of her, with her back turned, panting heavily.

She was wearing tight black leather pants, and a pair of small black leather shoes. Her feet were much larger than ordinary women. She was wearing a thick cotton coat to make her even bigger. She wore a pair of cotton gloves and a thick scarf to wrap herself inside and out. became a ball.

She stomped her feet and made loud noises to express her anger, swung her leopard print bag and yelled at a policeman "Wait for my lawyer's letter! You idiots, sons of bitches Stupid/crazy!"

She walked out while cursing, and bumped into Al all of a sudden, knocking Al staggering.

"Stay away from me!" The fat woman pushed Al hard, and Al almost fell down. Torres supported her from behind and looked at the fat woman dissatisfied.

"It's as thin as a carrot stick." The fat woman looked at Al with disgust. She puffed up her chest as if she wanted to hold it up. She gave Al a glance, pushed the door open and walked out with trembling steps. .

"It's rude." Torres supported Al's shoulder with a dark face, and said dissatisfiedly, "It's disgusting."

Al didn't speak, she lowered her head and straightened her clothes, her expression was not very good.

Gordon stood silently on the side, watching the whole process. He watched the fat woman quietly until Al and Torres calmed down.Gordon walked up to the previous police officer, stretched out his hand and said, "Jason Gordon, I want to ask, who was that lady just now?"

The police officer who was pointed at and scolded by the fat woman for a long time put away the disgusted expression on his face, and said with disgust, "Sharon, an ugly woman who came out of nowhere, her husband died in an accident, and she received a sum of compensation , I can’t be proud now, I’m enjoying my happiness by stepping on my husband’s corpse..."

The word 'bitch/human' spun around in his mouth several times before he swallowed it back, and he said angrily, "She wasn't so fat before, I can't believe she gained so much weight after her husband's death. There's more and more meat on it."

"Why did she come to the police station?" Gordon didn't care about the officer's faux pas, he continued to ask.

"The pet dog is lost. I have been here for a long time and messed up the documents." The policeman said helplessly.

Gordon followed his line of sight and saw that several police officers were squatting on the ground to pick up scattered documents.

"It was fine at first, who knew she would be so moody." The policeman muttered, "We knew you were coming, so we prepared the documents and waited for the handover later."

"Are the documents missing?" Gordon asked suddenly, staring at the pile of documents.

The police officer was stunned, he hurriedly searched for the documents, heaved a sigh of relief after a while, and said in relief, "I didn't lose it, it's all here, do you want to see it now?"

Gordon took the document and didn't say anything else, his mind was full of the behavior of the fat woman Sharon just now. Although Sharon made all actions to express anger, Gordon felt that her anger was fake.

Taking advantage of the busy time of the police officers, Gordon walked up to Torres and asked in a low voice, "What did you just see?"

Torres recalled Sharon, looked around, and said in a low voice, "She had plastic surgery, her nose was padded, and her chin was also done. It should be facial wrinkle removal. I can't see any changes in her chin."

Gordon nodded thoughtfully.

The fat woman, Sharon, walked out cursing all the way. She carried her small bag and drove her bright red car, and stopped beside a newsstand on North 4th Avenue.

She poked her head out, narrowed her small eyes, and looked furtively at the people in the newsstand, "Hey! You! I'm just talking about you, clothes rail, give me a copy of The Great Collector's Daily." "

The old newspaper seller looked at Sharon with dissatisfaction, and said annoyedly, "There is nothing you said."

Sharon started swearing again. She yelled and shook her fist in the car. Her restlessness attracted a group of passers-by to watch.

"I really don't have the newspaper you mentioned here!" the old man said loudly.

Sharon seemed ashamed too, spat and drove off.

After the commotion subsided, the old man at the newsstand sat back in his small room and wrote down Sharon's license plate number in his notebook. He sat on the stool and waited for a while, took out a photo from the cabinet, and handed it to the pusher. The little beggar who came in through the door was Sharon in the picture.

The author has something to say: Tired......

so tired...

Sleepy……

good night... mua...