The Devil's Favourite Obsession

Cixi’s gaze lingered on Officer Andrew Park. He had those eyes that made you believe you were safe when they met yours, and she suspected they might be playing the oldest trick in the interrogation book — good cop and bad cop.

She switched her attention between Jenny and Andrew, willing her body to sit still, to look confident, and not to break out into a cold sweat.

As time passed, Officer Andrew broke the silence. ”Miss McLore—” Before the second syllable could leave his mouth, Cixi interjected. ”Cixi. Call me Cixi.”

The words left her before she could catch them, and she mentally slapped herself the moment they landed.

’Was it truly necessary to correct a police officer about her name? What was the big deal about him calling her McLore?’

But then deep down, Cassian had sown doubt that had taken root — the doubt that she might not be McLore at all, and that her whole life was a lie.

Officer Andrew flashed a genuine smile. ”Sure, Miss Cixi, if that is what you are comfortable with.” He opened the file, placed it on the table, and then slid a transcript across to Cixi.

She had only read a few lines to recognise what the document was about. The letters written on it were every word she had spoken to the emergency operator that morning.

Andrew placed his finger at the top of the page before he began. ”You mentioned you had a dream of a murder happening.” He stressed the sentence in a foreboding tone, making Cixi uneasy. ”Our operator forwarded the message to the concerned department, and two of our officers followed the lead.” Andrew and Jenny exchanged a brief glance, then redirected their attention to Cixi.

”Yes, I did,” Cixi confirmed, keeping her voice steady despite the trepidation crawling through her stomach.

”Miss Cixi, you might be surprised to hear this,” Andrew said carefully now, as if he were handling a piece of evidence. ”We have not only found the woman you described, but there were others.”

Involuntarily, Cixi’s head tilted, grappling with the words that had slipped from his lips, unsure of how to process what she had just heard. ”Others?” She echoed the word. ”What do you mean, Officer?” She questioned, frowning as she searched their faces, trying to decipher the meaning behind their words, while the two officers’ expressions remained inscrutable.

”Have you seen any other dream, Miss Cixi?” Officer Jenny asked, to which Cixi denied.

Officer Andrew then continued, ”We found fifty more bodies buried under the ground near the same location. Our trained dogs helped us uncover them.”

’Fifty more bodies?’ Her hands flew to her mouth as a visceral wave of horror surged through her.

At first, she shook her head in denial as if it was not possible, and when the words settled in her, she tried to rearrange the information to cooperate with the gruesome reality.

Fifty!

Fifty people!

They were killed by that one man, who derived ecstasy from others’ suffering.

She wanted to say something — anything, yet no words emerged adequately enough for the fifty graves for whom their families had been searching for a very long time.

The officer Jenny took over, and her voice carried no cushion when she questioned. ”Where were you yesterday from the afternoon till night, Miss Cixi?” Jenny’s pen hovered above her notepad, without blinking, while she waited.

Cixi brushed her tongue over her dry lips, wetting them before she answered. ”I-I was with my friend Marion from morning till night. I stayed overnight at her place.”

Jenny gave a single nod; it was neither warm nor dismissive. She moved on to the next. ”Do you have any other people to verify that?”

”Yes, Marion’s kids and her husband can confirm it. I shared the room with Marion’s little daughter, Melisha.” Cixi gave all the important information at once because she needed them to know she had nothing to lie about.

Both officers nodded in unison. ”Have you ever had such a dream in the past?”

”No, it was my first time,” Cixi answered honestly.

For a brief second, Jenny squinted at Cixi before she smoothed it away. She was a woman who had built her entire career on facts and evidence and regarded premonitions and prophetic dreams as nonsense, like those fantasy novels.

”Miss Cixi, you have described the killer so well, even down to the tiniest details, that it seems you were right there when it happened. So let me ask you this straight.” Jenny’s voice turned stern, and she leaned forward. ”Do you know the killer in person?”

”No! Ofcourse not, Officer,” Cixi emphasised, and remained still, keeping her voice confident. ”Apart from his face and the clothes he was wearing, and the taxi that was standing outside the barn, I know nothing about him.”

Her voice quivered on the last three words as the killer’s face resurfaced in her memory uninvited, as if someone had taken a photograph of the worst moment and pinned it to the inside of her eyelids. The woman had shrieked and pleaded desperately, while he wore a look of perverse ecstasy, utterly inhuman.

Cixi immediately brought both arms across her chest and hugged herself as if that fragile barrier could protect her from the thought of him.

Jenny and Andrew observed the sudden change in her behaviour, but that did not stop them from investigating further.

”Usually, people forget parts of a dream once they wake up,” Jenny continued with her dispassionate performance. ”But you seem to have your dream memory completely intact.”

There was no question mark at the end of that sentence. Because it was not a question but an accusation, and Cixi felt it land on her like a searchlight.

Ofcourse the officers did not believe her. However, she was not the one who had killed the woman. So she had nothing to fear.

”Well then, I am the fortunate one!” She regained control over gestures. ”Probably the universe wanted this man to be caught and save many future victims... And I hope you have already caught the killer.” After making her point, Cixi attempted another important question. ”And what about the woman’s children? Are they safe?”

”Yes, they are safe. The children are in their father’s custody,” Jenny replied in a flat tone that revealed nothing about whether she found Cixi’s concern admirable or theatrical. ”If we bring the killer in front of you, will you be able to identify him?”

Cixi nodded before the question had even finished. ”Yes, I can. Please—” and her voice dipped low, ”—put him behind bars.”

The officers led her through a narrow corridor and institutional floor polish until they reached a room with a long glass partition.

On the other side, five men stood in a line, all similar in build and each distinguished only by slight variations in hairstyle and hair colour.

Cixi examined them one by one, her eyes moving slowly and carefully to look for recognition.

The first man — no.

The second — no.

The third — no.

But when her gaze landed on the fourth, she stumbled backwards. Jenny caught her arm before she could fall.

”Which one?” Jenny asked.

”The fourth one!” Cixi pointed her finger at him.

And indeed he was the one they had caught, the very man who had been their prime suspect since before Cixi walked through the station doors.

*

*

*

After she had signed a few documents, Cixi walked toward the station exit, feeling relieved that the killer had been caught. Then a familiar figure near the entrance door caught her attention. A tall figure in a long black coat, moving with an unhurried stride, either on an errand or on his lunch break.

It was the same officer who was handling her complaint against Nelson.

”Officer! Officer!” Cixi quickened her pace, and a few heads turned in the corridor, including the officer himself, who raised his brow the moment he recognised her.

She could practically read the question forming behind his eyes — did she come to find out about the guy?

”What happened?!” Cixi demanded. ”You didn’t call me. I was waiting for your call!”

To which the officer replied calmly. ”Did you receive any calls or messages from him?”

”No, I haven’t heard from him.”

”There is your answer, Miss Cixi.” He said it as if closing a drawer, and was already turning to leave, but Cixi planted herself before him and was not done.

”Have you made him delete all the videos? Did you check if he has a second phone, or a laptop, or Google Drive, or IDrive?” She needed certainty the way a drowning person needs the surface.

”Yes. I went to his home, his office, and checked every device he had access to. I wiped all his data clean. I also warned him not to contact you.” The officer looked at her squarely. ”Even so, stay vigilant.”

The words ’wiped all his data’ dissolved the coiled tightness inside Cixi’s body. Her shoulders relaxed. Her fists unclenched. She felt the solace ripple through her muscles.

”Now, if you are done with your questions, I need to go.”

”Yes, officer. I am done. Thank you.” She smiled at the officer.