Eyes that are the same as those of evil

Chapter 148 The Hand of God 1
It was four o'clock in the morning again when Zheng Yan was woken up from his sleep.

In the video, Tan Jia has a world-weary expression, like a living person on the verge of death, and speaks in the tone of an old donkey going up a millstone.

"I dreamt about a new case, get up quickly."

A forty-year-old shouldn't be quick to get up or not; if they get up too fast, their brains will be congested with blood and they'll feel dizzy.

Zheng Yan tiptoed out of the house, only daring to yawn loudly once in the car, and asked, "What happened this time?"

“A pregnant woman was beaten to death by a man in a room with a mirror. There was no location information, but I could barely make out the face of the deceased,” Tan Jia said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Seeing a face is fine too. Later, we'll have a portrait artist draw the features you've noted down about the deceased, and then match them in the system to see if we can identify the victim. Once we find the identity, things will be much easier. In these kinds of murders, the perpetrators are usually the husbands, and the crime scenes are almost always in their own homes..."

“That might be a bad sign,” Tan Jia said gravely, pausing his movements. “The murderer left after committing the crime.”

Zheng Yan's tone also became more serious: "They left? That's not good. It means the crime scene is likely in a temporary, unfamiliar place, somewhere else, in a hotel, guesthouse, or short-term rental... If we can't find the location provided by the murderer as soon as possible, it will probably be very difficult to find the victim."

After saying that, he asked hopefully, "You really didn't notice the clues pointing to the location of the crime scene?"

"Let me think. A dimly lit room, curtains drawn, with only a faint light coming from another room, like a bathroom. The deceased was being dragged by the hair and slammed against the wall, hitting a mirror. Shards of the mirror reflected the deceased's face, and..."

Tan Jia tried hard to recall, keeping his eyes closed and remaining silent for a long time.

Zheng Yan suspected she was asleep and planned to drive her to the police station, but she suddenly spoke again.

"The floor seems to be light-colored wood-grain tiles. There was a wall lamp where the victim fell. When the murderer left, there was a shoe rack with several pairs of shoes on it by the door."

"A shoe rack? Then the crime scene might not be a temporary location; there might be a third person involved. Anything else?"

"No, I didn't see my own face."

"Don't make it sound so scary. You haven't seen the killer's face. Get ready, I'm coming to get you."

Tan Jia went downstairs and passed by Lin Zhiyue's house next door without stopping. She bought a bottle of milk at the 24-hour convenience store in the community and drank it while waiting for the car to arrive.

In the past, this time of day abroad would have been a time of extreme emptiness after revelry, but here, she felt no emptiness; she frowned, pondering the clues in her dream.

What was the relationship between the murderer and the victim?
What was the killer's motive?
What caused the death? The impact of hitting the mirror was not fatal, but the deceased seemed to have lost the strength to struggle, and even his cries were weak and feeble.

Before she and the murderer "opened their eyes" at the same time, did the murderer do something else?
Zheng Yan's car has arrived.

As Zheng Yan drove her to the police station, he also instructed her to contact other people, especially the portrait artist.

Speaking of portrait artists, he also asked, "Where's Lin Zhiyue? Why didn't you ask him to paint your portrait? He could have finished one in the short time I've been here."

Tan Jia remained calm: "Unpaid help is no good. Be careful that the other person's parents don't come to your door and cause trouble."

"That's right."

They rushed to the police station, where Xiao Chen and Tan Ming also arrived as quickly as possible, yawning and looking resentful.

Xiao Chen slumped back into his chair with a thud: "The cases are connected way too quickly. How come I didn't realize that the security here was this bad?"

Tan Ming: "You wouldn't notice the cockroaches all over the floor if you didn't clean your house."

Xiao Chen felt a chill run down his spine: "Don't give random examples!"

"You two are making a lot of noise. Go check the police emergency number and see if any bodies similar to the deceased have been found in the last few hours. Also, contact the hotels in the city and tell them to check the rooms as soon as possible. While you're at it, gather information on the decorating styles of various hotels and see if they have light-colored wood-grain floor tiles, or walls with mirrors and wall lamps," Zheng Yan instructed. Then he called the portrait artist again.

The portrait artist arrived quickly and immediately began complaining to Zheng Yan upon entering the office.

"If I weren't so old and drowsy, I'd be yelling at you for half an hour the moment I answered the phone. Why does your second team always take on cases that require responding in the middle of the night? Are you trying to get an award for outstanding performance?"

Zheng Yan said without changing his expression: "Look at you, you just don't have as fulfilling a job as Lao Li. He goes out on calls every few days in the middle of the night, and he goes up mountains and down to the sea from time to time without any complaints."

"Old Li is a forensic doctor!"

"Your presence is no less important to the case than that of the forensic doctor, so don't underestimate yourself."

"……nerve."

When the person describing the deceased's appearance walked up to him, the portrait artist was surprised: "You're an eyewitness?"

Tan Jia: "Well, I guess so."

Witnessing a murder from the perspective of the perpetrator—how can that not be considered being a witness?

Working together, they drew and revised the portrait, and after more than half an hour, the portrait of the deceased was completed.

“That’s about right,” Tan Jia stared at the painting. “She looks to be in her early twenties or early thirties, not long into her pregnancy, as her belly isn’t very protruding.”

Zheng Yan immediately had someone match the portrait with the data in the system, and then bent over in front of the computer watching the whole process.

Then the screen displays the result that no matching object was found.

He closed his eyes and exhaled, but his expression showed little surprise.

"We can't identify the deceased. We'll have to resort to the crude method. Tan Ming, send the sketch to all the hotels and check if anyone with that name has checked in."

All that's left is to wait.

"If the crime scene is a hotel or similar place, someone should discover the body after daybreak. If it's a residential building, and not the perpetrator's territory, someone should discover it soon and call the police."

Tan Jia understood what he meant: "I'm afraid neither of these possibilities applies. The body might decompose without anyone noticing, and by then, there will probably be no clues left."

She couldn't help but frown at the thought of this outcome.

I've dreamt of crime scenes so many times, and each time I've managed to find the body and the crime scene.

In previous cases of burning corpses, the crime scenes were located in the wild, but they could be found based on their characteristics. In the case of the theft and murder, although the location was in a residential house with no special features, the method of murder was unique, and the body was found quickly.

This time, the manner of death and the location of the death were not unusual. Could they find the body in a short time?
If she can't find it, then her dream is useless. Knowing that a murder has occurred but not being able to find it is worse than not knowing at all.

She frowned and remained silent. Zheng Yan thought that being too responsible was not a good thing either, as she was prone to internal strife, just like Wu Yang.

Just as she was about to offer some words of comfort, Tan Jia suddenly said, "The deceased must have gone to the hospital for prenatal checkups after becoming pregnant, right? We can send a copy of the portrait to the hospital as well. I'll also post online to see if anyone knows what kind of place the crime scene's decor style might be."

Well, there's no need for any comforting; her mentality is as resilient as Darwin barking at spider silk.

(End of this chapter)