Goddess Bless You From Death

Case File 3.

After the interrogation ended, Lieutenant Khem allowed Mr Danai, the taxi driver, to leave and reminded him that he might be called back for further questioning. The information gathered so far didn't connect much of anything. Singha decided to request all the case reports from the field units and returned to his office, with the young suspect following behind.

"Inspector, these are the case reports. This one is the interrogation report, and this is the preliminary autopsy result from the forensic department," Lieutenant Khem said as he glanced at the young man standing in the corner of the room. "Well, Inspector, should we take the suspect back to the holding cell?"

Singha didn't respond immediately. He simply turned to look at the agitated young man. There were many reasons why this young man was the prime suspect. Without a more substantial alibi than his ghost story, it would be difficult for him to escape the case.

"Let me know when any other holding cells are available."

"Understood, sir." Grow!!!!!  

The young man's stomach growled loudly, interrupting the conversation, and the older policeman at the door laughed.

"S-sorry, sir."

"It's almost 3 AM. Inspector, would you like some snacks or a meal? I'm about to go get some anyway."

"Anything will do. And a cup of coffee," Singha said, handing money to his subordinate, then sitting at his designated desk.

"Hey, kid, do you want anything?" Lieutenant Khem asked. Thup was only a suspect, not yet proven guilty, so Lieutenant Khem didn't want to pressure him too much.

"Can I get a boxed meal? B-but I don't have my wallet.."

"It's alright. This is our Inspector's treat," Lieutenant Khem said, waving a purple banknote.

Thup diverted his pleading gaze to the man who was reading the reports. He continued staring like that even though Singha didn't look up at all. Finally, the young inspector couldn't help but speak up irritably.

"Order what you want, and get some for the on-duty officers, too."

"Yes, sir. I'll be right back."

Once Lieutenant Khem left, the room fell into silence, broken only by the sound of rustling paper and keyboard clicks. Thup pressed his lips together and carefully sat on the sofa, trying not to make any noise that might disturb the person working. Exhaustion slowly took over, making his eyelids heavy. He slapped his cheeks repeatedly, fearing that if he fell asleep, he would wake up in the holding cell again.

Singha, reading the case reports, glanced at the sofa upon hearing a noise. The first file he reviewed belonged to the young suspect in front of him. There was so little information on him-just an ordinary guy who moved to the city for university, previously living in a northeastern province. There are no clear records of his parents, but his guardian listed in the university application was a Buddhist monk.

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

"Pardon? Are you asking me?"

"There are only two of us in this room. Who else would I ask? Mae Sue? 

"P-Please don't say that," Thup looked around nervously. "1 usually watch movies or draw."

"Anything else?"

"N-No, I don't go out much."

"Why?"

"Because there are things out there that I don't want to see."

"But you chose to go into the forest at night? Don't you know that makes you look more suspicious?"

"-I think it happened before."

"What do you mean?"

"People with sewn eyes and mouths... I've seen it before." Singha put down the file and crossed his arms, staring at Thup. "It's okay if you don't believe me, Inspector. I just want to tell you in case it's useful."

Thup bit his lip and sighed deeply. He usually didn't like talking to people unless necessary. Especially about that 'aspect' of himself, he never wanted to say it. But something was different with Singha. He felt safe being around him.

"-I see ghosts. I've seen them since I was a child and thought it was temporary, but it wasn't. When I stayed at the temple, Luang Pu always helped me. I never had friends my age because I couldn't tell the difference between people and ghosts. Luang Pu gave me an amulet necklace before he passed away. Before these incidents... Before I had dreams about what happened in the forest, I had seen it before... I saw a young woman with her eyes and mouth sewn shut with red thread. So, what I'm saying is that this might not be the first time."

Thup glanced at Inspector Singha fearfully as he remained silent.

"T-That's all."

"I'm back, Inspector. Here's your stir-fried Thai basil with beef and a sunny-side-up egg. I guessed this kid wouldn't eat spicy food, so | got him fried rice. Is this okay for you?" Lieutenant Khem's voice broke the tension. Thup's eyes lit up with a wide smile as he saw the meal boxes, the hunger and fatigue momentarily overriding his fear.

"Thank you, Mr Lieutenant."

"That's too formal. Just call me Lieutenant Khem." 

"Thank you, Lieutenant Khem."

"Go ahead, eat up."

Singha left the room without a word, making the young man's heart skip a beat again. He knew it was challenging to believe, especially for someone like Singha, who didn't seem to believe in such things. He didn't expect the inspector to take him seriously, but he wanted to be helpful.

"Did I make the Inspector angry?" Thup muttered

"No, no, the Inspector's always like this."

"Don't you think I'm the... culprit?"

"Not exactly. But the inspector is a decisive man. If he thought you were really the culprit, you'd already be locked up instead of walking around like this. Eat your food, kid. I'll take off the cuffs for now and lock you up again when you're done."

"Thank you," Thup smiled, bowing his head in gratitude.

Meanwhile, Singha walked to the station parking lot, taking out his usual brand of cigarettes and placing one between his lips. He lit it, sending white smoke drifting into the air before inhaling deeply, letting the nicotine calm his chaotic mind. After smoking half of it, he pulled out his phone and immediately called an acquaintance at the Central Investigation Bureau (CIB).

[Three in the morning.] A groggy voice erupted just after the call was answered from the other end.

"Mek, I need you to find some information."

[I want to sleep.]

"A mass murder case. Victims had their eyes and mouths sewn shut with red thread."

[Are you even listening to me?]

"The incident may have happened years ago. I need all the

information you can find about similar or related cases."

[You jerk, hold on.] There was some rustling noise on the other end of the line, prompting Singha to drop his first cigarette to the ground and stomp it out before lighting a new one. [Looks like there might be one. I'll send it to you.]

"Good."

[Why are you suddenly interested in a case from five years ago?]

"Five years ago?"

[Yeah, there's a report of a similar case from five years ago. Wait a minute. There was another one from ten years ago too.] Singha's eyebrows knitted together. [It's an unsolved special case. Why are you interested, Singh?]

"Because I'm dealing with that damn case right now. Send me the details."

[If so, I have to inform the commander.]

"Not yet. If the commander intervenes, he'll only complicate things. Let's see what we can find out first."

[Singh, that's the commander!]

"Talk to you later." Singha hung up, taking another deep drag of nicotine. If this case had happened before, and multiple times without the perpetrator being arrested, it would have been dangerous.

Singha walked back to the office. He slightly rolled his eyes after hearing some laughter from inside. When he opened the door, he saw his subordinate chatting amicably with the troublesome kid, with an empty food box on the table.

"Don't you have any work to do, Lieutenant?"

"Not at the moment, sir. I'm waiting for your orders."

"I'll send you some information. Please compile it."

"Understood. Are you going home tonight, sir?"

"No."

"Understood." After Lieutenant Khem left the room, Singha forwarded the email he had received from his friend at the CIB to him. Then he continued to examine the victims' profiles in detail.

"Inspector?"

"What?"

"Can I sleep?"

"Do you want a bath or a soft bed as well?"

"Can I?!" the young man asked excitedly, but when he saw the stern look he received, he shrank back. "I guess I won't sleep then."

Thup looked at the blank paper and the wooden pencil on which he stayed idly, falling asleep. Then the room was filled with the sound of turning paper and the pencil scratching across the surface.

Singha reviewed all seven victims' profiles to identify any connections. Aside from their varying ages, their professions, residences, jobs, and even lifestyles had little in common. Typically, serial killers choose victims who share some similarities, either physical characteristics or some other common factors. But here, there was nothing. The only consistent thing was the method of killing. Singha reopened the email he had received and began reading it thoroughly. The case that occurred five years ago took place in a northern province, with seven victims, all of whom had their eyes and mouths sewn shut with red thread. When he reviewed the victims' profiles from five years ago, he noticed they matched the current case. None of the victims had any connections to each other.

"So, how does the killer choose the victims?"

Age-no pattern.

Gender-no pattern.

Occupation-no pattern.

Residence-no pattern.

Religion?

Singha laid out all the papers on the table and read through the victims' religious backgrounds. He finally found a satisfying answer. All the victims, whether from the recent incident or five years ago or even ten years ago, followed the same religion. They were all Buddhists. This was the only connection he had found so far.

A mumbling sound from the person slumped over the coffee table made Singha look up. He walked over to get a closer look and found that the young man had been drawing. The officer picked up the sketch, frowning. It was a drawing of himself, working with a serious expression.

From the skill displayed, the boy's claim of being a freelance artist didn't seem far-fetched. Singha shook his head slightly, put the drawing back, and then tossed his jacket over the young man's head, covering him perfectly. He left the room, not forgetting to lock the door from the outside. His long strides took him to the autopsy room to examine the victims' bodies once more.

In the cooler-than-usual autopsy room, the victims' bodies were stored in temperature-controlled compartments. Singha's eyes scanned each storage unit as he pondered. The information about the victims' shared religion wasn't enough to track down the killer. He needed more-anything that could help solve this case and catch the murderer.

Thup awoke to the sound of the door closing, hazy and disoriented. He picked up the black leather jacket from his head, looking for its owner, but the room was empty. A small smile appeared on his lips as the jacket had a pleasant scent. Who said the inspector was scary? That wasn't true at all.

Before he could rest, a scratching sound came from the wooden door, startling him. Turning slowly, he saw the dark shadow of a woman outside the glass door again.

"Wh-what do you want?" He stammered, but there was no answer. Only muffled sounds came from outside. "Were you... Were you the one who did this? You-"

!!!

Before he could finish, loud banging shook the door, as if the person outside was filled with rage. Thup trembled with fear, clutching Singha's jacket tightly. He wanted to close his eyes, but was also curious to see who was on the other side of the door and what they wanted from him. The strangled voice he heard as a child matched the one he was hearing now... of course. She was the same ghost he had encountered before.

The door swung open, letting light flood in. Through his tear-blurred vision, he didn't see the terrifying ghost. Instead, Singha's stern face was approaching him.

"Check the security cameras," Singha ordered.

"Yes, sir."

"What's wrong again this time, Thup!?" Thup turned to look where the man in front of him was pointing, and he saw long, deep scratch marks on the door, exposing the wood beneath.

"If she didn't want to tell me something... then she must be after me. “