GODDESSBLESSYOUFROMDEATH, Case File No. 3: Merely Three Bits of Information

After the interrogation ended, Lieutenant Khem allowed Sir-Danai, the taxi driver, to leave, not forgetting to warn him that he might be called back for further questioning. The current information seemed insufficient to connect any dots. Singha thus decided to request all case reports from the teams on the ground and returned to his office, with the young suspect following behind.

“Inspector, here are the case reports. This one is the witness statement, and this is the preliminary autopsy report from forensics.” Lieutenant Khem, who had just followed him in, glanced briefly at the young man standing in the corner of the room. “Uh, should we take the suspect back to the holding cell as usual?”

Singha didn’t reply immediately. He merely turned to look at the visibly nervous young man. There were many reasons to suspect him, and without a better alibi than a ghost, he remained the prime suspect.

“Keep him in another holding cell when one is available.”

“Understood.”

Grrrrr

The sound of the young man’s stomach growling interrupted the conversation, followed by laughter from the elderly policeman standing by the door.

“Sorry.”

“It’s almost three. Inspector, do you want a snack or something? I’m heading out to buy some.”

“Get whatever, and a coffee for me too.” Singha said, handing over some money to his subordinate before sitting back at his desk.

“Hey kid, want something?” Thup was just a suspect, not enough evidence to conclude he was the perpetrator, so Lieutenant Khem didn’t want to pressure the young man too much.

“Can I have a boxed lunch, please? But… my wallet…”

“No worries, Inspector is footing the bill.” Khun Khem said, waving a purple banknote.

Thup looked back at the person reading documents with pleading eyes. He kept staring even though Singha didn’t look up, until finally, the young inspector couldn’t help but speak out in annoyance.

“Order whatever you want, and get some for the guys on duty too.” Thup said, pursing his lips.

“Yes, inspector. I’ll be right back.”

Once Khun Khem left, the room fell silent, filled only with the sound of flipping papers and keyboard clacking. Thup tiptoed to the sofa, careful not to disturb the working person. Fatigue slowly crept over him, making his eyelids heavy. He slapped his cheeks repeatedly, fearing that if he fell asleep now, he might wake up back in the same old cell.

Meanwhile, Singha, engrossed in case files, glanced up when he heard a sound from the sofa. The first person’s background he looked up was this suspicious young man in front of him. There was barely any information; just someone who had moved to the city from a university town in the Isan region. No clear parental history, but the application form for university mentioned a monk.

“What do you usually do in your free time?” Singha asked without looking up.

“Huh? Are you asking me?”

“There are only you and me in this room. Who else should I ask, your mother?”

“Uh… please don’t say it like that.” Thup said, looking around nervously.

“I just watch movies or draw pictures.”

“Anything else?”

“Uh… that’s it. I don’t really go out much.”

“Why?”

“There are things out there I don’t want to see.”

“But you choose to go into the forest at night? Do you know that just makes you closer to being a villain?”

“I… I think it’s happened before.”

“What do you mean?”

“People with their eyes and mouths sewn shut… I’ve seen it before.” Singha placed the file he was holding down, crossed his arms, and stared at Thup intently. “You might not believe what I’m saying, and that’s okay. I just want to share in case it might be useful.”

Thup pressed his lips together before letting out a deep sigh. Normally, he didn’t like talking unless necessary, especially about such personal matters, but Singha made him feel safe.

“I… I’ve seen ghosts. Since I was little, I thought it was just temporary, but it wasn’t. When I was at the temple, the monk helped me a lot. I never had friends my age because I couldn’t tell the difference. The monk gave me a necklace before he passed, to distinguish between the dead and the living. Before all this happened, before I dreamt about the forest incident… I’ve seen it before. I saw a woman whose eyes and mouth were sewn shut with red thread. So, what I’m saying is, this might not be the first time.”

Thup glanced at Singha with fear, seeing the young officer didn’t respond. “That’s… that’s all.”

“Here you go, sir, steamed beef with a fried egg, not fully cooked. And for this little one here, who looks like he doesn’t like spicy food, I got fried rice. Can you eat this?” LieutenantKhem interrupted, holding out food boxes with a broad smile. Thup’s fatigue momentarily eclipsed his fear.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“Just call me Lieutenant Khem.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Khem.”

“Eat up.”

Singha left the room without a word, making Thup’s heart skip a beat again. He knew it was hard to believe, especially for someone like Singha who seemed skeptical about such matters. He didn’t expect the young officer to believe him, but he wanted to be of some use.

“Have I made the officer angry?” Thup muttered.

“Nah, he’s always like this.”

“So, Lieutenant Khem, the inspector doesn’t think I’m… the culprit, right?”

“Not exactly, but the man is decisive. If he thought you were the bad guy, you’d be sleeping in a cell by now, not wandering around like this. Come on, eat up, young man, I’ll unlock your cuffs first. After you eat, I’ll lock them back up.”

“Thank you.” Thup smiled and bowed in gratitude.

Meanwhile, Singha, the young inspector, stepped out to the station’s parking lot, lighting up his usual brand of cigarette. He inhaled deeply, the nicotine hitting his lungs to calm the chaos in his mind. After half a cigarette, he pulled out his phone and dialed a contact at the Central Investigation Unit.

[3 AM] A groggy voice answered.

“Merk, I need info.”

[I’m trying to sleep here.]

   “Multiple homicides, victims sewn at the eyes and mouth with red thread.”

[Are you even listening to me?]

   “The case might be years old. I need all the info on similar or related homicides.”

[You’ve got to be kidding me, hold on.] There was a rustling on the other end. Singha stubbed out his first cigarette and lit another. [Seems like there’s something, I’ll send it over.

“Hmm.”

[Why suddenly interested in a case from five years back?]

   “Five years ago?”

[Yeah, similar reports from five years back. Wait, there was something ten years ago too.] Singha’s eyebrows furrowed. [It’s an unsolved special case, why the interest, Singha?

“Because I’m dealing with this damn case now, send everything over.”

[I’ll have to inform the commander then.]

   “Hold on, the commander will make things even more complicated. Let’s wait until we have more to go on.”

[Singha, that’s the commander!]

   “Just this much.” Singha hung up before taking another deep drag, thinking if this case had really happened before and multiple times without the culprits being caught, then it’s dangerous!

Singha returned to his office, rolling his eyes slightly. Upon entering, he saw his subordinate casually chatting with the problematic kid. There was also an empty food box on the table.

“No work to do, Lieutenant?”

“Not yet, sir, waiting for your orders.”

“I’ll send some info your way, gather it up for me.”

“Sure, and are you going home tonight, sir?”

“No.”

“Understood.” After Lieutenant Khem left, Singha forwarded an email he received from a friend at the central investigation unit, then continued reviewing each victim’s background in detail.

“Sir?”

“What?”

“Can I sleep, sir?”

“Want a bath and a soft bed too?”

“Really?” The young man asked excitedly, but seeing the stern look, he returned to his curled-up position, “Guess not.”

Thup looked at the blank paper and pencil on the table. The young man sat on the floor, doodling aimlessly because sitting still would surely put him to sleep. Now, the room was filled only with the sound of turning paper and the scribbling of a pencil.

Singha read through the victims’ backgrounds, trying to find any connection. But aside from their ages being all over the place, nothing matched – not their professions, addresses, or even lifestyles. Typically, serial killers choose victims with something in common, be it physical traits or shared data points, but here, there was nothing. The only consistent factor was the method of killing.

Singha reopened the emails, carefully reading through each detail. The case from five years ago occurred in a northern province, with seven victims all sewn up with red thread at their eyes and mouths, just like now. Reviewing those victims’ profiles, it was the same – no connections among them.

“So, what’s the killer’s selection criteria?”

Age? Indeterminate.

   Gender? Indeterminate.

   Occupation? Indeterminate.

   Residence? Indeterminate.

   Religion?

   He spread out all the papers on the table, going over the religion section. And there it was – every victim, from the recent cases to those five and even ten years ago, followed the same religion.

Buddhism.

   This was the only link found so far.

A grunt from someone slumped over the guest table caught Singha’s attention. Walking over, he saw the young man had been drawing. Picking up the artwork, he frowned. It was a picture of himself, looking stressed while working. Given the skill, the kid claiming to be a freelance artist wasn’t exaggerating. Singha shook his head, placed the drawing back, threw his coat over the young man’s head, and left the room, locking the door behind him. He headed to the forensics lab to re-examine all the victims’ bodies.

In the chilly morgue, the bodies had been neatly stored in refrigerated cabinets. Singha glanced around, his eyes scanning each cabinet, pondering deeply. Just knowing the victims’ religions wasn’t enough to catch the killer. He needed more, anything to solve this case and nab the murderer.

Thup, roused by the sound of a door closing, groggily reached for a solid black leather jacket, holding it as he looked for its owner, but found no one. A slight smile crept on his lips as he inhaled the jacket’s pleasant scent. Who said inspectors were always tough?

Before he could relax, a sound like nails scratching on wood jolted Thup. Turning slowly, he saw the shadowy figure of a woman outside the glass door again.

“What… what do you want?” he asked tremblingly, but received no answer, only a muffled groan from outside. “Are you… the one behind this?”

Before he could finish, a loud banging on the door shook the room as if the person outside was filled with fury. Thup, trembling with fear, hugged Singha’s jacket tightly, trying to close his eyes but curiosity about who was on the other side kept them open. The sound was unmistakable; it was the same eerie groan he had heard from his childhood.

It was that ghost he had encountered before.

The door swung open, flooding the room with light. Through his tears, he saw not a ghost, but Singha’s stern face approaching.

“Check the CCTV.”

“Understood, Inspector.”

“What now, Thup?” Thup turned to look where Singha pointed, noticing long scratches on the door revealing the wood beneath.

“If she wasn’t here to tell me something… then she must want me.”

 

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