Everyone dispersed, and only the two detectives who investigated the case and I remained in the conference room. At this moment, Officer Patel was engrossed in the orientation map of the entire island pasted on the magnetic whiteboard.

"Where is Ward C?"

"Right here, there are some mentally ill criminals who are quite seriously ill, have obvious violent tendencies, and are not suitable for group living." Chari walked over to the map and pointed to the only old three-story building in the northeast corner.

"There is also a lighthouse to the right of it......"

"It's long gone."

"yes, it looks shabby......

"I think there's some truth to what Dean Alsace said." Before Patel could finish speaking, Chari changed the subject, but Patel didn't seem to hear at all, he was still paying attention to the map.

He shifted his body, leaning almost his upper body against the upright map, and then squinted his eyes, carefully figuring out the large 1:500 map of the island.

"I didn't expect the island we are on to be so big. I used to think it was pitifully small, but now I realized that at least half of the island was occupied by forests, shoals, cliffs, and other terrain, and it was not easy to hide oneself in such a place. ”

"Not necessarily! What appears to be an empty field on the map is actually a horrible area of swamps and poisonous plants. Oak trees, kudzu, sumac, hairy fish vines, etc., which go deep into it, can be poisoned once people accidentally touch the branches and leaves. There are also wisteria and foxglove, which are among the top ten poisonous plants, and they also grow a lot. As long as you dare to enter, just wait for the corpse to be collected. Of course, someone had to dare to go in and clean up the corpse, so in the end, we had to wait for the corpse to decompose and turn into fertilizer. ”

Charry's unhurried words scared my hands and feet, and I was a little scared that this seemingly peaceful and peaceful island was pregnant with such a sinister side. Patel was no longer speechful.

"I think he has some point, what do you say?" ”

"Humph! It was just the dean's wishful thinking, and I thought that his deliberate thoughts were like a river flowing eastward. Patel's expression was tinged with disdain.

"And what do you think?" Chari still looks calm and unhurried.

"I think we should change our thinking and start the investigation from the mentally ill, what do you think?" At this moment, he suddenly laughed, as if he also felt ridiculous about his whimsical decision.

"What valuable can be found out of these psychopaths?! They're all a bunch of complete lunatics! "There's something strange about Chari.

"Sometimes you can hear some truth from a group of crazy people, but what you hear from the mouths of some righteous men and gentlemen is all sanctimonious falsehoods." Patel replied meaningfully.

"If it makes sense, then listen to you, chief." Charry is really a very obedient and obedient assistant and work partner, he doesn't have the slightest idea of his own, you just say hit the east, he will never go west.

My eyes are always on Patel, and he is really charming and attractive to me, and I can't help but admit that. But it is undeniable that he also has a sense of incomprehension, sometimes he seems to be galloping in a mysterious place 108,000 miles away, but sometimes he seems to be so close that he can even breathe, which is in strong contrast with the cheerful and simple Chari, but even so, I still want to follow him and get to know him, this feeling is really strange, as if there is an infinite wonderful companion in the dull and boring journey.

I don't know how long this feeling will last, but I still follow this instinct without hesitation, and I don't stop holding back.

It was about half past ten, and before that Patel had spoken to five psychopaths, but had gained very little.

This is a small common hall, presumably reserved for a small number of patients for psychiatric treatment. I sat behind a small table at the back of the side, about a meter away from the front seat, and Chari sat lazily after interviewing the fourth patient, leaving Patel alone behind a rectangular desk in the front row to continue working.

The five patients before were either lonely and self-appreciative, or they were messing around, and there were also masters who didn't say a word when they were killed, and there were even old ladies who talked back and forth. In other words, they are all mentally ill people who are the same on the outside, who have always been self-respecting in their own world, but they are immediately at a loss when they leave their own world. Chari and I were calloused by their tugging and wagging of words, but Patel remained tireless. We can't fit into the circle of the mentally ill, but he speaks like the leader of this small circle. This made me admire, but also a little puzzled and incomprehensible.

The next person to be questioned was a thirty-five-year-old male patient named Azov, whom I heard the man who brought him to introduce him. I really hope that this male patient will say something new.

As soon as he sat down in his designated position, he smiled and said, "Wow, you look like Prio!" ”

"Really? How much is it like? Patel leaned back in his chair and grinned.

But in the next second, Azov saw the police uniform that Patel was wearing, and he suddenly became nervous, not only closed his mouth and stopped talking, but also lowered his big head, which was narrow at the top and wide at the bottom.

Patel saw his uneasiness, so he sat up straight and changed the subject, "Then let's get down to business, are you familiar with Prio?" ”

"Okay." Azov still had his head down, but his eyes rolled in Patel's direction, and then for a moment they were back to their original ways.

"What do you think of Prio?"

"Okay." Azov's answer was still those two words.

But overall, as of this time, Azov's performance is not very outrageous.

For a moment, both sides fell silent. Patel picked up the cup at the table and took a few sips of water. Then he put down his cup, picked up his notebook again, and began to flip the pages smoothly and quickly, the sound of the paper was incessant.

Hearing this, Azov seemed to be a different person. He looked up, his eyes staring at Patel's notebook as he was flipping up and down, leaning forward so much that he was almost free from the restraints of his chair, but luckily there was a little butt left to stick to the chair. His incomprehensible gesture was so urgent that it seemed as if he was about to rush to Patel's side and snatch the ordinary notebook.

However, Patel did not show the slightest surprise at this, as if he had expected his transformation to be so fast, so he looked at Azov with a smile, stopped turning the paper without hurry, picked up another useless notebook on the table, and walked to Azov's side with confidence.

"Maybe you should tell us an interesting story about Prio." Patel pressed his face to Azov's left ear and muttered in a deliberate whisper. He had placed the notebook on the table in front of Azov, but his left hand was still symbolically above it.

"Of course! Of course! Azov's eyes stared unblinkingly at the ordinary notebook in front of him, as if he were coveting a priceless treasure.

Patel let go of his hand and went straight back to his seat, while Azov began to fiddle with the coffee-colored notebook with affection. He opened the cover of the notebook, and carefully tore the corner of the title page of the notebook with a pair of small hands as slender as a woman, and tore until the last moment when the paper was about to break, but he no longer tore down, leaving only a small piece of paper at the end that was fragile and connected, and the extremely thin piece of paper torn off was twisted and unruly rolled into a ball. Then he tore it from the top of the remaining title page again, repeating the action he had just done, and the dexterity and delicacy of the gesture seemed to be the intricate embroidery of a hundred birds, and I was dumbfounded. This pretentious paper-tearing behavior is definitely not a normal person's habit, so this small action is enough to prove that he is an out-and-out mental patient.

The male nurse sitting next to me sneered helplessly, "Maybe you don't understand, but this is what he likes to do the most." His profession is to work as an indirect butcher in a food processing factory, and he comes into contact with the carcasses of slaughtered pigs every day, and his greatest dream is to work as a sorter in the processing workshop in the back. This tear-off action is very similar to the sorter's preparation for attaching a label sticker to a good product. He had always had hope, but for various reasons, he never got his job as a sorter, which may have been one of the major triggers of his illness. He suffers from one of schizophrenia – with a typically intense sense of destruction, which is more inclined to violence against people. He suffered from the disease for many years, from mild to severe, until he finally gave six of his closest neighbors coffee mixed with poison, a general outbreak. In the investigation and evidence collection, he said that he would take them to the happy Elysium to enjoy pure happiness for a while, and then he would leave himself clean, saying that he was the only one who was lucky to survive. He's so babbling that you don't know what he's saying is true and what is false. But when I'm with Prio, I seem to be able to be quieter. This could be just one thing down one thing! ”