The Perfect Crime Chapter 6

The "test" I was waiting for arrived quickly.

"East District Serial Arson Murders."

Within half a month, three victims, all burned at midnight in abandoned factories, the scenes yielding no valuable clues.

The killer's methods were extremely brutal, with strong counter-surveillance awareness.

Public panic spread.

As the newly minted "legendary detective," Elena was thrust into the spotlight.

Under the media glare, she showed fatigue for the first time.

"Officer Torres, the case has made no progress. It seems even you, this 'detective genius,' are at a loss?"

"The public needs truth! Not a hero who only catches her own brother!"

Public opinion began to turn against her.

Elena's expression grew increasingly grim.

I could imagine her panic and fury.

She was used to standing on clouds, enjoying everyone's worship.

She couldn't accept failure.

Especially not with me, the "failure," as contrast.

Sure enough, within two days, a visitation request landed on Wright's desk.

Visitor: Elena Torres.

To visit: Marcus Lane.

She was desperate.

She needed me, needed the "criminal playbook" in my brain to pave her path to deification.

Wright rejected the request on grounds that "the patient's emotional state is unstable and unsuitable for visitation."

He used all his connections to build an impenetrable wall around my room.

Elena was blocked outside.

The more anxious she became, the more she'd lose her rationality.

The fourth victim of the arson case appeared.

This time, the scene bore a line written in chalk:

[Where is the genius?]

This was the most naked provocation to the police, and especially to Elena.

The pressure on the entire department reached its peak.

The bureau chief personally sought out Wright.

"Old Wright, I know Marcus... isn't in good condition."

"But for this case, only he might offer a glimmer of hope."

"Go ask him, I'm... begging him."

Wright came to my room and relayed the chief's words.

I looked at the square of sky outside the window, speaking calmly.

"Tell the chief I agree."

"But I have one condition."

"All my analysis can only be transmitted through you, single channel."

"And I need a deliberately flawed deduction as bait."

Wright's eyes lit up.

A classified psychological profile was quietly delivered to the task force through Wright's hands.

In the report, I constructed a seemingly perfect but actually flawed killer model.

[The perpetrator is male, 30-40 years old, with childhood psychological trauma from fire burns, resulting in both fear and fascination with flames.]

[His motive is "purification"—he believes the victims are impure and need fire to cleanse them.]

[He chooses abandoned factories because they represent industrial civilization's decay, fitting his anti-social psychology.]

[Prediction: His next target will be a female janitor whose occupation resembles his mother's, location at the old textile factory in West District.]

This report ignored a fundamental principle.

Trauma victims, especially those with childhood trauma, will unconsciously "avoid" trauma sources, not pathologically "obsess" over and "recreate" them.

This was a very subtle yet fatal logical fallacy.

Elena was too desperate to prove herself.

She urgently needed an answer to salvage her precarious reputation.

She took the bait.

The day after receiving the report, she announced loudly that she'd locked down all the killer's characteristics and next move.

She requested a televised live analysis to demonstrate her unparalleled "deductive ability."

In the broadcast, she was spirited and confident.

She packaged my erroneous reasoning with her inflammatory language, making it seem airtight.

"...So the killer's motive is rooted in his unfortunate childhood memories!"

"He's using fire to take revenge on a world that once hurt him!"

The studio erupted in applause.

However, in the live stream's real-time comments section, the tone began to shift subtly.

"Wait, I'm a psychologist. The core of PTSD is avoidance behavior. This killer sounds more like a performative personality, doesn't he?"

"Right, and burning bodies is about destroying evidence. What's this 'purification' nonsense?"

Skeptical voices multiplied.

Even the host's face showed embarrassment.

Cold sweat appeared on Elena's forehead.

She tried to remain composed, attempting explanations.

But the more she explained, the more errors she exposed.

Finally, the broadcast was forcibly interrupted amid chaos.

The "rising star's" genius deduction became a laughable farce.

I sat in my hospital room, watching that panicked face on TV, feeling nothing.

This was only the first step.