One of them pulled out a police baton and raised it.
Behind that two-way mirror, Fang Mu was in motion. "No!" He suddenly dove against the glass and pounded it with his fists.
Everyone observing froze at his outburst. After standing there stunned for two seconds, Tai Wei blurted, "Fang Mu?"
Fang Mu spun around and grabbed Tai Wei's arm. "Don't hurt him…"
"Who are you?" asked the director, cutting him off.
"Oh, he's the one that the suspect attacked," said Tai Wei quickly. "I asked him here to take his statement." He turned around and whispered to Fang Mu, "Go downstairs, I'll be there in a little bit."
"Tai Wei," said Fang Mu, pulling on his arm almost entreatingly, "let me talk to him. I'm positive something's up. There's no way he's the killer."
"Absolutely not!" Tai Wei threw him off and then whispered sternly, "Where do you think you are? Get downstairs now."
Fang Mu was adamant. "It can't be him; he's nothing like the person I predicted…"
The director, who had been standing to the side and aloofly watching all this, now spoke: "Tai Wei, is this the so-called genius you told me about?"
Realizing that it was already too late to hide anything, Tai Wei had no choice but to tell the truth. "Yes, sir." he said. "This is the one."
The director snorted disdainfully and turned to look into the interrogation room. Meng Fanzhe was still struggling, and had thrown both the cops off of him. One took out his electric baton, turned it on.
"Get out of the way!" he yelled to his comrade. Barely had the other officer moved, than the first officer pressed the baton against Meng Fanzhe's shoulder.
At once Meng Fanzhe's eyes went wide and his body bent like a bow as the current surged through him. The cop prodded him several more times, and after each Meng Fanzhe howled in pain and writhed like a fish on a chopping block. In moments he was no longer struggling, just slumped over in his chair, his whole body shaking.
With a hard look on his face, the observing director said, "We won't interrogate him tonight. Just lock him up for now; tomorrow we'll get some experts over here to give him a psychological assessment." He turned and walked out, glaring furiously at Tai Wei as he passed.
Tai Wei tried to explain, but the director had already passed. Helplessly, he just shook his head and turned back to the interrogation room where Meng Fanzhe was being dragged out of his seat like a dead dog. For a moment Tai Wei stood there with his arms crossed. Without turning his head, he said, "Take him back."
"Yes, sir," said Little Zhang. He grabbed Fang Mu's arm. "Let's go!"
Fang Mu tried to argue, but the cop pulled him roughly away.
The whole way back to the dorm, Little Zhang didn't say a word, just sped through the city streets. Fang Mu didn't want to talk either. He stared at the ink-black sky through the car windshield, his mind blank.
Arriving at the campus, Little Zhang tightly gripped Fang Mu's arm and marched him swiftly up to the third floor of Dormitory 5. By then Fang Mu's whole body ached and he had long since given up resisting.
The hallway was filled with noise and packed with onlookers. Some were students wearing nothing but underwear and a blanket over their shoulders; others were campus security guards who had just heard the news. Through the crowd, Fang Mu could see that all the lights in Meng Fanzhe's room were on and he could hear one of the cops standing outside yell repeatedly for everyone to move back.
The number for Room 313 had already been taken as evidence, and when the cop escorting Fang Mu tried to open the door, he found it was locked.
"Who here lives in Room Three-Thirteen?" Little Zhang yelled into the crowd.
Du Yu was also out watching the commotion, but when he heard this he came running over and opened the door.
Pushing Fang Mu into the room, Little Zhang said, "Don't go running off anywhere." Then he turned to Du Yu and said, "You keep an eye on him." He walked out and slammed the door.
Hands at his sides, Fang Mu just stood there for several seconds. Then he slowly walked over to his bed and collapsed on it.
Giving him a worried look, Du Yu said cautiously, "Fang Mu, you want something to drink?"
Fang Mu didn't say anything, just slowly shook his head. He lay there only seconds before he suddenly leapt out of bed, threw open the door, and ran toward Meng Fanzhe's room. He pushed through the crowd gathered there until he had reached the doorway. He lifted the police tape stretched across it and headed inside.
A number of police were already inside inspecting the scene. Little Zhang was among them. Seeing Fang Mu enter, he rushed over to stop him.
"What the hell are you trying to do now?" he asked.
"What have you guys found?" asked Fang Mu anxiously.
The other cops just looked at one another.
Now Little Zhang was angry and he turned Fang Mu around and led him towards the door. "Get out of here. This isn't your business. If we find anything, Tai Wei will let you know.
Fang Mu shoved the cop's hand off of him and darted back into the room, yelling, "Just what have you guys found?"
"Fang Mu!" Little Zhang yelled, sliding a pair of handcuffs from his belt. "You're obstructing police business. Don't make me do this!"
Pushing through the crowd, Du Yu grabbed Fang Mu and pulled him away, saying quietly, "Brother, let's head back now; you can figure the rest out tomorrow."
Still fuming, Little Zhang turned to one of the security guards standing nearby. "Make all these students return to their dorms! They're getting in the way of our work!"
One after another, the security guards sprang into action. "Everyone back to your dorms," they told the curious students. "Anyone who sticks his head out again will receive a public criticism… No, a demerit in their permanent record!"
After being dragged by Du Yu back inside their room, Fang Mu stood by the door for a long time, his breath coming heavily. Before he could even catch his breath, he suddenly tore open one of his desk drawers, grabbed several thick brown paper folders, and tossed them on the desktop with a thud. He pulled several stacks of files out of them and began studying each in silence.
Du Yu stood some distance away, cautiously trying to see what Fang Mu was looking at. He could just barely make out several pictures of blood-soaked murder scenes and could hear his roommate whispering to himself.
"Impossible," Fang Mu murmured. "It can't be him… It can't be him…"
Where am I?
My head hurts so bad, like it's gonna explode…
What did I do…?
…
"Do you have a lucky number?"
"No, I don't really believe in that kind of stuff. Anyway, the reason I came this time was — "
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Do you know which number the majority of people like the most?"
"I don't know. Is it…eight?"
"Only Chinese people think that way. And mainly just the nouveau riche and low-class, rural moneybags. (Translator’s note: The Chinese word for eight is pronounced ba, meaning "to get rich.") Look, you're smiling. I told you, don't be anxious."
"I'm not anxious, it's just that I feel…I feel like we've sort of taken a step backward. Because the past few days in class, I started to be afraid of roll call again."
"Oh? When did this begin?"
"The last time…the last time we met."
"Don't worry; this is very normal. Some things need to be repeatedly reinforced before you can reach the optimum result."
"I hope you can help me."
"All right, but you must follow what I say exactly. Do you understand?"
"Yes."