The scene is in the front of the five hundred meters away in the feed factory that has been abandoned for a long time, the people who pass by on motorcycles in the morning see a piece of bright red blood on the window glass, take a look inside, find the dead person, immediately call the police, and now Fu Yuxin and Lao Lazy and Wang Dongsheng of the forensic department are already inside.

Because it was still early and it was in a deserted area, there were no other people around to watch the excitement except for the first discoverer.

I got out of the car and looked over there, a huge factory, lonely in a wasteland that was sold to real estate developers a while ago, black tiles and green walls, it should have been very lonely, but now the loneliness has been washed away by the cordon belt and a large number of police, but it adds a sense of solemnity.

Hulala was blowing a strong wind, and the wind was wrapped in the sporadic smell of rain, Xiaohai wrapped his coat tightly and looked at me with a frown: "Isn't it cold?" ”

I realized that I was in a hurry to go out just now, and I didn't bother to put on a jacket, just a slim turtleneck cardigan and jeans, which should have felt cold, so I nodded and said, "It's a little cold." ”

Actually, I don't really feel cold at all, first of all, my body is very adaptable to the temperature, unless it is very cold or hot, I don't feel it. Secondly, all the attention will be on the case that is about to be faced, how can there be air control, whether it is hot or cold.

Xiaohai wanted to take off his coat for me to wear, but I didn't want it, saying, "It's inconvenient to work." ”

She is not forced.

The police officers present all knew me, so they immediately put me in the cordon, but they didn't know what to do with Xiaohai, her identity was confused, and it was not for her to let me in, nor for not to let me in, and they all looked at me in embarrassment.

I reached out and dragged her in, not to let her in, but to give her a clear identity in front of everyone, and to tell them that this girl was with me, and that she could enter wherever I could. It's a position, it's an attitude, and you have to do a good job.

I didn't rush into the building, but took a few steps to the side, looking closely at the large patches of red splashed on the window glass.

Obviously, it wasn't human blood.

The large expanse of red on the window was nothing more than oil paint, but it looked like blood from a distance. I glanced a little and returned to the gate, took the gloves and put them on, and said to Xiaohai: "You don't have to go in, looking at the photos and watching the scene are two different things, in case it's disgusting, nine out of ten will vomit, you just wait for me here, I'll call you if there's anything." ”

She nodded in response and took two steps back.

I knew she didn't say yes because she was really scared, I didn't think she would be afraid of corpses or tragic scenes, and the way she looked at the pictures on the wall of my study, and how she reacted in the face of an emergency, showed that she was not someone who had never seen anything like it.

She nodded in obedience.

She is willing to listen to me, saying that the east does not go west.

I walked to the door, Fu Yuxin and Wang Dongsheng both turned their heads to look at me, only the old lazy was fixed, motionless and very proud, as if he was the boss here.

I didn't pay attention to anyone, followed my own routine, deliberately didn't rush to turn around to look at the corpse, only turned my body towards the position where the corpse was not visible, and then took a deep breath.

Ho, a messy smell, a choking smell of blood, feces and urine, paint, water and dust. I'm just confused, I can't figure out what kind of homicide would have such a heavy smell of paint, isn't this a feed mill? It's not a pigment factory!

Taking another deep breath, I tried to find the smell of the silver shell terrier I had smelled at the scene of the "disembowelment" last time, but I couldn't find it.

I don't know if it's not there, or if it's drowned out by the smell of other messes.

After taking a deep breath and settling down, he finally turned around and faced the corpse, and the first thing that caught his eye was a pair of bare legs hanging vertically.

A pair of colorful legs.

I imagined that the corpse should be lying on the ground, so the moment I turned around, my eyes naturally looked down, but this time the corpse was hanging from the beam, hanging straight down, so the first thing I saw when I looked down was a pair of hanging legs, the toes of the two feet were very straight, slightly twisted, and the skin was painted with various colors of paint.

Quickly adjusted his gaze upwards, and saw a naked woman, whose skin was a large and chaotic color, red, white, blue, yellow, purple, green, scribbling, as if using the hanging corpse as a canvas, creating a postmodern painting on her skin.

Now I finally understood what was going on with such a strong smell of paint, and I was instantly stunned.

I felt the hairs all over my body stand on end, and I was suffocated, as if I was being choked by a pair of invisible hands, pinching the death force so hard. So I couldn't stand steadily, took three steps back, and shook twice, if it wasn't for Xiaohai suddenly rushing in and holding me up, I'm afraid I would really sit on the ground.

This corpse, this environment, this picture, these splashes of color......

I'm 100% sure I've seen it all before.

I remember arranging those photos in the conference room on the third floor of the Public Security Bureau yesterday afternoon, and I told myself that if I came to another murder scene, I would definitely find something. Now, here, here I am, here I want to be. It's as if the mastermind behind the scenes, the outstretched hand of God, knew very well what I wanted, so he personally sent it to me, smiling, dignified and generous, and full of manners.

Even, I felt a hint of careless provocation, and a full, arrogant self-confidence, as if he really was God, convinced that no one would try to catch him.

The old lazy man crossed his arms and stared at me gloomily, his presence seriously affecting the way my brain worked, and for a few minutes my mind went blank, trying to remember when and where I had seen such a murder scene, but I couldn't remember.

I don't like to be lazy looking at me like that.

He reminds me of Su Mosen, who always looks at me gloomily when I am not paying attention, there is no emotion in their eyes, they are all like dead people, I hate that kind of gaze.

I almost cried.

Fortunately, with Xiaohai by her side, she took my arm, pinched me, and then looked at me calmly. The meaning in his expression is that no matter what happened or what happened before, at this time, he has to find a way to stabilize his emotions, and he can't mess with his own proportions first.

I tried to draw my attention back to the scene of the murder, looking at the corpse hanging from the beam by a thick hemp rope around the neck, hanging very low, with the toes only about 30 centimeters from the ground at most.

The deceased's eyes were gouged out, the two black holes in his face were terrifying, his mouth was closed, and the corners of his mouth were dripping with black and red blood, which was difficult to distinguish from the paint.

I think, if I'm not mistaken, her tongue was cut out too.

Looking at the shape of the breasts, the age should be between 30 and 40 years old.

The corpse was splashed with acrylic paint, mixed with brilliant colors, like a postmodern art painting, which has an inner meaning that the layman cannot understand.

Wait, no, the paint wasn't spilled, it was carefully smeared, and then a brush was splashed on it, so at first glance it looked like it was spilled. This is easy to prove, as there are only dots of paint dripping vertically from the corpses on the floor.

It's not the same picture I remember.

In my memory, there must have been a lot of color on the ground, and the murderer splashed it everywhere on the victim, leaving the murderer's footprints as a result. But the scene in front of me was different, not only was there no large area of color, but it was clean, except for a few places where there were large handfuls of hair torn from the victim's head, there was nothing else, let alone footprints.

It's a cleaned site.

There were a few damp spots on the ground, and there were marks of mops having been dragged by them. Before the murderer left after committing the crime, he did a rough cleaning.

This is a repeat crime, or a copy crime, or a copy crime.

I'm really sure that somewhere else in the world there has been a homicide that resembles this one, abandoned empty factories, hanging bodies of women, gouging out of their eyes and tongues, splashing their bodies with color.

My brain had a precise record of the previous scene, except that I couldn't remember when and where, the rest of the details were very clear, and I remembered that there should have been a basketball on the scene.

There should be a basketball on the spot.

I asked Fu Yuxin if he had found a basketball on the spot, and he gave a surprised expression, which means that I was right.

He said: "There was indeed a basketball that had been sent to the car as physical evidence by the Forensic Section. ”

I nodded, and then scanned the entire factory building, and there were more than a dozen people standing in front of and behind me, most of them from the forensic department.

I said to Fu Yuxin: "You let them go out first, I need to take a closer look." ”

My throat was dry and hoarse, and the words I said were like mixed with lime, Fu Yuxin felt that something was wrong, but he didn't say anything, and immediately beckoned everyone out, except for the old lazy, everyone else left obediently, Fu Yuxin glanced at the old lazy, sighed, looked at me again, shook his head, and said that he really had nothing to do with the goods.

The factory suddenly became empty, leaving only me, Lao Lazy and Xiaohai.

I tried to convince myself to treat the laziness as air and focus only on the scene. Since I didn't get the details of the basketball wrong, there was no reason why I could get the details of the colors on the ground wrong. Why is there such a significant difference between the picture in reality and the picture in memory? The murderer of the imitation crime made this mistake? Or is my memory wrong? Or......

Wait, from the logic of reality, I have never stood in a place exactly the same as the current scene, absolutely not, so what is the familiarity of this picture, this kind of déjà vu, and the accurate grasp of details?

Have you ever dreamed of it?