The Mint’s Metaphor 04

Albarino Bacchus was lying inside the small cubicle the Westland Police Station used to temporarily detain suspects. The room was very small, with only a wooden frame bed and a thin mattress. The sun was not yet out, a dim hazy white light leaking through the tall window in the wall.

There was still no other progress for Sarah Adelman's case, but clearly, on Albarino's side, the process of his detainment wouldn't be halted by this: by then, the prosecutor should have already applied for a preliminary hearing. When he appeared in court, of course he would refuse to plead guilty. Whether he could get bail for this kind of violent incident wholly depends on the judge.

At the moment, Albarino couldn't help but doubt whether he would see Herstal again before the preliminary hearing. Of course, he could always call Herstal at any time if he wanted to; this was his protected right, but he suspected that even then Herstal would only keep sneering at him on the phone. This was simply their daily routine.

Although Herstal had made such a mess mainly because he wanted the crime scene investigation team to search his house, Albarino had no doubt that the man would, too, relish in seeing him behind bars– they both knew very well that Al didn't want and wouldn't have his freedom restricted. So, if he had a few years in prison because of some accidental trouble, things would get interesting.

It wasn't that Albarino had never imagined breaking out of prison, but now was still not the time.

He was now utterly bored, lying on his very hard bed until his back ached. Just as he was wondering whether he should turn over in his bed or not, the door to the small cubicle was suddenly opened.

Bart Hardy stood in the doorway, his features exhausted, a hint of shock seemingly leaking through. He said hoarsely, "Al, we need you to come out here now for a minute."

Albarino said, "Huh?"

"You're not released, but after all, we assume you're innocent until you're officially sentenced," Hardy nodded slowly, "...Come on, I need your help."

–There was a body across the street from the Westland Police Station.

After October had passed, the temperature was quickly decreasing. There was a burst of white color at the edge of the horizon. Flanked by several police officers, Albarino went across the road. He felt a bit amused that several of them were staring at him as if he would abruptly go on a killing spree and run away now.

Directly across the street from the police station was a narrow alley between two buildings; clean, deserted, only completely immersed in darkness. Currently, in the shadows between the walls a woman lay, dressed in a red jacket with her hair loose, her cheek obviously been hit hard. There was no pool of blood beneath her, but her chest was already soaked with blood. Albarino didn't doubt that if her clothes were got rid of, messy cuts can be seen on her chest.

The body was found by a police officer coming off night shift. At the moment, neither the trace evidence examiners nor the forensic on-site investigators had arrived yet. Albarino and Hardy were next to the corpse, and the police officers set up the police line.

"I don't think this is the primary crime scene, as otherwise the bloodstains wouldn't be limited to these. Look at these wounds; she probably died entirely due to blood loss." Albarino took the latex gloves Hardy handed him and knelt down by the body. Even though legally speaking, he was a suspect with deprived personal liberty, it didn't hurt to use his own professional knowledge to do a favor for Hardy. Although he didn't have a probe to check for the temperature of the body, there was no problem checking for rigor mortis and corneal clouding. "I estimate she's been dead for seven to eight hours. It's just before seven, so she probably died around midnight."

Hardy let out a low "hmmm".

Albarino seemed to understand his implication behind his words and choked out a smile, "You don't think I'm the culprit now?"

"I never thought that you were the culprit. Of course, it would be nice if you would deign to tell me what's up with the bones." Hardy retorted wearily.

Albarino smiled and slowly stood up. He looked down at the corpse; the soul had already broken out from the body. "Look at these messy cuts and the injuries left by being restrained on the neck of the deceased. These abrasions on her fingers, her broken nails; these traces left by struggling...looks a lot like Sarah's wounds. Similarly, they were also caused by being pinned on the ground by the killer, and then being repeatedly stabbed."

"It was likely done by the same killer as in Sarah Adelman's case, but since it wasn't the primary scene of the crime, the body was likely to be intentionally dumped opposite of the police station." Hardy contemplated, "Perhaps, the news reported us arresting you as a suspect, so it led to the displeasure of the actual culprit– Because he was upset that we attributed his achievement to someone else, so he's provoking us through this discarded body?"

Albarino blinked pleasantly at him. "Or maybe a copycat killer, who's imitating my methods to get me off the hook because they worship me a lot."

"Albarino!" Hardy reprimanded. He was silent for a few seconds, then said slowly, "... But whatever the case, the sprig of mint can't be explained. If it was by the same killer, then why did the last victim have the mint on her body but there's none on this one? Is his criminal signature changing?"

Albarino curled his lip. It goes without saying that no matter what, he couldn't explain to Hardy that his current lawyer had framed him for a murder for the purpose of that "Mintha" metaphor, even putting a sprig of mint onto the body– He knew that if he put down the sprig of mint, Albarino would know that it was him who did that.

As Herstal had said, he had decided to join this game.

Even though Albarino had an overflowing amount of words to talk about, he could only hold them back in his heart. They were silent, facing the body in front of them like they were worshiping an altar. At the same time, a surveyor car turned past the corner into the avenue, silently stopping next to them; Bates jumped down from the front passenger seat.

He looked like Pheidippides who had delivered the news of victory for the Athenians at the Battle of Marathon; although his expression was still reserved, his mood was clearly light. As he quickly walked towards their direction, he raised his voice and said, "It's a kind of canine!"

Sluggishly, Officer Hardy said, "... Eh?"

"The remains of bones in the shed behind my house are from a canine." Albarino said patiently, apparently unsurprised; his gaze was still resting on the body's badly destroyed face. "As a matter of fact, strictly speaking, it's a coyote. I shot it around half a month ago, skinned it and burned the rest of it; otherwise, its companions and some birds would always be sniffing around my house because of the smell."

Hardy looked at him in disbelief[1].

[1]一言难尽, idiom, lit. hard to explain in a few words, meaning complicated and difficult to say something

"What? I have a hunting rifle in my house, didn't you know–" Albarino said innocently.

"No, that's not the point at all! The point is, why did you burn a bunch of coyote bones in your backyard, then not tell us it was coyote bones after CSI saw it?!" Hardy accused him, devastated; God knows how scared he was when those bones appeared.

"Whether I tell you guys or not, you would still do testing on that bone to find out what it is, isn't it. This is the procedure." Albarino revealed a big smile, really looking like he was wanting to be beaten up. "Isn't it better to give you guys a bit of a surprise?"

Clearly, Hardy didn't like Albarino's surprise at all; if he weren't a suspect for a crime right now, Hardy would probably want to kick his butt. This police officer stood in place gritting his teeth for quite a while, then turned his head and told the police officers behind him, "Bring him back,"

Albarino stuck out his tongue at them.

In fact, in the end Hardy, being overly kind and impatient to solve the case, gave Albarino special treatment[2]: later in the morning, after Hardy finished dealing with a batch of trace evidence examiners and forensic on-site investigators at the crime scene, driving out reporters and removing the police line, everyone all squeezed into Albarino's prison cell.

[2]小灶, lit. mess halls for high-ranking cadets, meaning special treatment.

This was a compromise. Strictly speaking, Albarino outside his cell should wear handcuffs, but other people might all be unwilling to see him hanging around with handcuffs on.

The people present were the brainstorming team common in murder cases Hardy was in charge of: Albarino, Bates and Olga. The last of the three came very reluctantly; apparently because of this incident involving Albarino, she hadn't been able to sleep in this weekend.

She must hate culprits who would commit crimes on the weekend, including the Sunday Gardener. Thinking of this, Albarino could not help but feel a bit sympathetic towards her.

"Do suspects have to work hard to participate in the discussion of the case? I'm not even being paid." Albarino pointed out.

No one paid him any attention. He deserved it.

"No fingerprints, and no blood apart from the victim. Apart from that, even though the victim's fingernails were clearly broken into complete shambles during her struggle, there's no blood or the culprit's skin between her fingers." Bates reported, sighing in the middle as he spoke. "The very cold weather is to be blamed; we probably wouldn't be so out of luck during summer."

"But currently, this pattern says a lot. Let's make the bold assumption that these two cases are by the same culprit." Olga said, reaching out and pointing at the several photos of the deceased Hardy threw onto Albarino's bed. "It's easy to see that they were of similar age, both had dark hair, and both were wearing red at the time they were killed."

"If the same person was responsible for both cases, they should have followed the same set of rules to find their targets." Bates said slowly.

Albarino interjected timely, "And the culprit injured their faces during the murder."

"Yes, we know the culprit had a knife in his hand, but before killing the victims he punched them all in the face with his fist, an act with a strong implication of venting anger, not to mention the excessive killing actions when he stabbed with his knife." Olga said slowly, one hand boredly propped on her lower jaw, "You all are aware of the sexual implications of stabbing with a knife."

"Currently, no direct connection between the two victims have been found, so he saw someone's shadow on those victims, venting his wrath on those innocent young women." Albarino concluded.

Olga glanced at him lazily. "It's also possible that Miss Adelman was killed by you after all, and the second case just happened as a coincidence."

"Hey!"

She stopped joking, curbed the smile on her face, and sat up a little straighter.

"So, we're looking for a white man," she cocked her head, speaking in a soft, slow voice, "both of those women were in their early thirties, so the culprit couldn't have been younger than them; probably between thirty and forty years old. The culprit lives in Westland locally, and shouldn't be too well-off– the price range for 'I quit' bar isn't very expensive, and that's where he followed Sara – the culprit may have an ex-girlfriend or ex-wife, who are the same type with the victims; white-skinned, dark-haired young women, probably very fond of wearing red clothes."

Olga paused, frowning slightly. Her eyes didn't seem to be on any of them as she thought about the question, but her gaze still burnt with an untouchable excitement.

"He took it out on his victims because of his failed relationship, stabbing them to vent his desire, destroying their faces to humiliate them." She continued to add, "But instead of taking that wrath out on the actual person[3], he could only take it out on someone else ... either the woman had left him, going to some place he knew nothing about, or the other had filed a writ of habeas corpus[4] to restrict his access to her. "

[3]始作俑者, lit. the first person to bury funerary dolls, meaning the originator of the evil practice

[4]a writ requiring a person under arrest to be brought before a judge or into court, especially to secure the person's release unless lawful grounds are shown for their detention.

"He also has a vehicle," Bates supplemented, "On my side, we just received the feedback from the officers who reviewed the footage: around 2 a.m, a white van had once stopped by that alley. The light was too dim to see the state of the body, but there is a high probability that the body was put down then. Although the model of the car has not been determined yet, we can start from the driver's license."

Albarino, extending his body like a cat, sore from sitting, spoke. "He treated the dead in a very angry way, and if he really chose to provoke because of those news reports ... I think he is a very impulsive person, so his anti-surveillance ability won't be very strong. And such a person will usually have a criminal record for violence."

"I suggest checking if there are previous cases of women dying wearing red." Olga instructed once more. "He's been committing crimes a little too often lately; it doesn't feel like the first time he's done something like this."

Hardy nodded, clearly ready to go and arrange officers to investigate, but he stopped in his tracks just before he went out.

"Albarino." He said lowly.

Albarino looked at him.

Hardy frowned, looking worried, "You know what situation you're currently in, don't you? Even if we catch the suspect in the second case, as long as he refuses to admit that he killed Sarah Adelman, the two cases can't be investigated together. In that case, I think the prosecutor will still put charges against you... After all, the murder weapon has your fingerprints on it."

Albarino observed him, then smiled.

"Of course, so I'm fully counting on you." Albarino said lightly, in a tone that sounded like he didn't feel worried at all, "My life is in your hands, Officer Hardy."

"We're making progress." Hardy said, standing in front of the small window in the door of the cell.

Albarino slouched on the bed, deigning him a look, "What progress?"

"First of all, we found two cases which died of unnatural causes: young women with dark hair, who died of stab wounds and were wearing red at the time of their deaths." Hardy said, "Both cases occurred before Sarah Adelman was killed, one of which more than half a month ago and the other more than a month ago. At the time, because all their valuables were taken from them, the officer in charge took these as robbery cases."

"And then?" Albarino asked in that quite interested restrained tone.

"Then we took both of those cases into consideration, searching for people in the area where those cases occurred who fit the profile and owned white vans." Hardy said, "A person was found to be the most suspicious– his name is Bob Landon, thirty-eight years old, currently on bail for allegedly assaulting his ex-wife violently; these cases all occurred after he was released on bail."

Albarino asked, "His ex-wife ...?"

"Early thirties, dark hair, wears red in all the pictures she posts on social media sites; she likes that color." Hardy revealed a sharp, hound-like smile, "She filed for a restraining order after she divorced her ex-husband, because she accused him of stalking her regularly. Nonetheless, after the restraining order went into effect, she was still stabbed three times by Bob Landon and was just discharged not long ago."

That made this Landon sound the most suspicious. Albarino pondered about this as Hardy went on, "We've already sent officers to his house– as long as we can arrest him, and as long as he admits that he also did the Sarah Adelman case, we'll be able to release you soon. "

Albarino maintained his smile. He thought for a moment, then said, "In that case, I'll request another call to my lawyer now, okay?"

When Herstal got the call, he was trapped in the middle of a boring cocktail party with formal wear, surrounded by people spreading cheap smiles and empty concern towards others. The guy who was trapping him in a seemingly dignified conversation was privately involved in some smuggling business; the other guy who laughed at his voice operated an underground boxing ring.

Herstal knew this as clear as day[5].

[5]洞若观火, idiom, lit. to see something as clearly as one sees a blazing fire, meaning to grasp a situation thoroughly.

The sudden ringing of his phone at least gave him a reason to get out of this boring chatter. He walked around to the edge of the venue, standing at the entrance to the slightly less crowded balcony as the clammy rain began to fall again outside the window.

As he picked up the phone, he heard the cheerful voice on the other end say, "Mr. Armalight."

"Dr. Bacchus." Herstal answered, frowning. "What are you calling for?"

"Since you are my lawyer, I have some new information I would like to inform you. Bart has already given permission." Albarino replied, beaming. "After all, I have the right to share the latest developments with you."

"Go ahead." Herstal said dryly. His instincts told him there wasn't anything good coming from the other.

"There was another case today. Another woman in a red dress was killed, with her body being abandoned right across the street from the police station– of course, you're likely to have heard about it already. Anyway, Bart and the others suspect this case could be combined with Sarah's: there is a high probability that since I was said to be responsible for Sarah's case, which caused this culprit to act and provoke the police." Albarino said slowly; Herstal could hear him tapping his fingers slowly somewhere on the tabletop. "Then, by continuing to investigate along these lines of thoughts, naturally new suspects who fit the profile will be found."

Herstal was silent for two seconds, then said factually[6], "Nevertheless, there is no evidence in Miss Adelman's case which could directly point to anyone other than you."

[6]实事求是, lit. seek truth from facts, meaning to be practical and realistic.

"Exactly." Albarino replied from the other side. "But they have a new suspect now, and if he admits that Sarah was..."

Herstal interrupted unhesitantly, "Then, those bones which were found behind your house –"

"It's coyote bones. What did you think they were?" Albarino laughed, lightly lowering his voice as if recalling a very interesting story; perhaps it was one for him. "A coyote accidentally stepped into my territory. I thought maybe it didn't mean to hurt me, but I've never liked unfamiliar guests wandering around my territory... Plus, if I had left it alone, who knows how things would have turned out later?"

"So you killed it." Herstal said slowly.

"I carried my shotgun and shot it dead in the back of my house, the bullet going in through its snout and out through behind its ear." Albarino said softly, sweetly trailing off almost as if he were reciting poetry to his lover. "I had never disemboweled an animal like that before, so I didn't know what to do at all. I cut its stomach open in front of the fireplace in my house and buried my hand in its abdomen to get the guts out– it was still piping hot, Herstal. I felt like I was burying my hand in a river of blood when I did that."

Herstal felt his throat go dry and didn't utter any sound.

"I skinned it, leaving some of the meat behind; perhaps the taste won't be very good, but I didn't know what to do with it." Albarino said softly, "In the end, only the guts and bones were left. I didn't know how to handle them, and I was also afraid of attracting other predators wandering into my territory, so I burned them and smashed the bones into small pieces... so that nothing was left. I planted some plants on those fragments, you understand."

Albarino was still talking, his voice dropping so low; almost as if it were coarsely licking his outer ear. He asked, "That's all that happened to that coyote. What other story did you expect to hear, Mr. Lawyer?"

"I just want to hear what your prediction for your future is; coyotes has never been something I cared about." Herstal stared at the drizzling rain, ignoring Albarino's provocation, but the scene still rose before his eyes: Albarino kneeling in front of his prey, hands buried in its belly, fully covered in steaming blood from his fingertips to his elbows. "You clearly know that if they couldn't catch that killer anymore–"

"Then I'll still be the biggest suspect in Sarah's murder, and the prosecutor would still lay charges against me." Albarino said, "This is the problem I'm trying to say."

Herstal calmly remained silent.

"The Westland Police Department has already sent people to arrest him, although I highly doubt he'll stay in place." Albarino said cheerfully, that sharp happiness in his voice making people's blood run cold[7]. "Herstal, if you still want to make a move at the end, I'm afraid you're running out of time. At times like this I would get very curious; you're a person who can get hold of opportunities, yes?"

[7]毛骨悚然, idiom, meaning to have one's hair stand up on end.

Herstal frowned, "Mr. Bacchus, are you implying–"

If the suspect Bart Hardy was trying to catch died, of course no one would be able to confirm who actually killed Sarah Adelman. Albarino would have trouble getting out of it, obviously ending up having to participate in a trial.

But he just didn't think that this fact would be brought up by Albarino himself.

"Aren't coyotes completely meaningless for both of us? Don't you want me to be the butterfly you pinned?" Albarino laughed, a light airy tone sweeping past Herstal's ears. "Do you hear the sound of time passing, Herstal? Time won't stop in its steps for you, tick-tock, tick-tock..."

"So, where do I stand in this coyote story of yours?" Herstal asked pointedly in reply.

"Don't be impatient," Albarino replied, his voice light and brisk almost as if he weren't behind bars. "I have yet to determine where you should be, Mr. Armalight."

The uninhibited mirth in his voice made him want to wipe it clean with his own hands. The corners of Herstal's mouth twisted into a sneer before he hung up wordlessly, not bidding the other goodbye.

He stood in place for a moment, then walked towards the direction of the party's host.

–He needed to find an appropriate way to leave the party.

Author's Notes

1. Under U.S. law, the flow of Albarino's current case is as follows:

After determining that Albarino is a suspect, they would request for an arrest warrant to arrest him, then interrogate him, which was the content for last chapter.

This kind of cases which involves major violence, where the suspect may even be sentenced to capital punishment or life imprisonment (under the setting of this story, there is no capital punishment in this state), the prosecutor would apply for a preliminarily hearing. Mostly, the judge will ask if the suspect would plead guilty, and the judge will determine if the suspect is granted bail. The suspect and the suspect's lawyer must show up for the preliminary hearing.

(A preliminary hearing is not a required stage for bail, because in cases where the suspect or defendant is eligible for bail, the judge does not have to hold a hearing and can simply decide to grant bail.)

In Al's case, whether bail is granted, you have to take into account the severity of the case, the danger the suspect poses to others in the society, etc. If bail is granted, then Al can go home temporarily after posting bail. Bail means "I promise to come back to court on time even if I'm not in custody, and I definitely will not run away". The amount of money for bail would vary according to the severity of the accusation; suspects for second-degree murder like Al would have to pay a pretty large amount for bail.

A formal court date for the case will also be set at the preliminary hearing.

"3000 Whys on Psycho Serial Killers"[8]

Q. In Albarino's story, what is the coyote used to represent?

A. All of the victims of the Sunday Gardener

B. The first person Albarino ever killed

C. Bob Landon

D. Herstal

[8] 变态杀人狂的冷知识三千问 is in reference to a Chinese children's animated series, 3000s Whys of Blue Cat, focused on teaching about science, astrology, history, biology etc.