Chapter 5 An Unexpected Theory
The midday sun blazed down on the open space in front of St. Thomas Academy's main gate. Alison crouched in the shade of a large oak tree, growing increasingly frustrated as twenty minutes passed without any sign of Oliver's car.
Annoyed, she pulled out her phone and called him, only to hear a busy signal. As the minute hand made another half circle on her watch, Alison's stomach growled. She ordered delivery, and had just taken her first sip of iced Americano when a silver-gray BMW pulled up beside her.
Oliver lowered the window, his eyes landing on the two cold drinks in her hands. He reached for the one without a straw. "Latte? Acceptable, I suppose. I usually prefer Americano. Don't get it wrong next time."
Alison snatched the cup back. "Don't flatter yourself. Both are mine."
Oliver glanced curiously at the jumbo burger meal set by her feet. "Are you some kind of competitive eater?"
Before she could respond, he urged, "It's scorching out here. Get in."
"You!" Alison grabbed her burgers and coffee, sliding into the passenger seat with an indignant huff. "Oliver, you're one hour and twelve minutes late! Explain yourself and apologize."
"I originally planned to have Taylor pick you up, but he forgot to charge his phone. He only saw my message at noon," Oliver explained smoothly. "You should feel honored I personally came to be your chauffeur."
"Utterly shameless," Alison muttered, silently plotting her revenge.
Oliver disliked food smells in his car and was pleasantly surprised when Alison didn't eat inside his vehicle. His opinion of her improved slightly.
Alison, prone to motion sickness, never ate in moving vehicles. She leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes, quickly drifting into sleep.
Oliver slowed the car slightly, noticing Alison seemed cold. He casually adjusted the temperature higher and lowered the music volume, driving in comfortable silence.
Forty minutes later, Oliver gently woke her.
"Are we here?" Alison blinked groggily, then looked surprised. "Did I fall asleep?"
Her insomnia was severe, and since Lucy's disappearance, nightmares had become frequent. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept soundly, making her unexpected nap in Oliver's car all the more surprising.
Perhaps next time she couldn't sleep, she should hire a driver?
"You fell asleep. Not only did you snore, but you also talked in your sleep," Oliver said.
"Impossible." Alison firmly denied it. "I don't talk in my sleep."
"You definitely did," Oliver insisted with equal confidence.
Alison pressed, "What did I say?"
"You said—" Oliver noticed the hidden anxiety in her eyes and recalled how her brows had furrowed when she called out "Lucy" in her dream. He swallowed his words and smirked mischievously. "Just kidding. You didn't talk in your sleep. But you did snore like a jet engine."
Alison smiled slightly and raised her fist.
Nearby, four or five people gathered to watch the commotion.
"Taylor, are you sure that beautiful woman is a specialist you brought in? Not Oliver's new girlfriend?" someone asked.
"They're fighting!"
"Impressive! Oliver's completely outmatched!"
"Don't hit his face! Good looks are all he has besides money!"
Alison turned toward the voices. Before her stood a luxurious villa with a manicured garden. Several people were watching from a second-floor balcony, with Taylor excitedly waving to her.
Oliver's team consisted of ten people—three women and seven men—each specializing in different fields: forensics, profiling, criminal psychology, hacking, and more. A small but elite unit.
Alison was surprised to find a familiar face among them.
"Long time no see," Helen Wilson greeted nervously, subtle hostility in her eyes.
"You know each other?" Taylor asked curiously.
"Alison and I were classmates from undergraduate through doctoral studies," Helen explained with forced lightness. "She was always first in our class, and I was always second."
Taylor looked amazed. "You're a psychologist too? I thought a 26-year-old religious studies expert was impressive enough, but that's just your secondary specialty!"
Alison smiled graciously. "Some famous religious events in history can be analyzed from a psychological perspective. I studied religion to better understand psychology. By the way, I got perfect scores in criminal psychology."
Alison extended her hand to Helen. "It's lovely to see you again."
"Likewise," Helen replied, studying Alison's expression to determine her sincerity.
Helen had always considered Alison her rival. Others called them the two insurmountable peaks of their psychology department, but Helen knew the truth: despite being two years older, her talent and effort couldn't match Alison's. When Helen proudly graduated top of her class, Alison earned dual doctoral degrees.
Thoughts of Alison always reminded Helen that, no matter how hard she worked, she would have to strive even harder to match Alison's achievements.
What was Alison doing with Oliver? Helen's palms grew sweaty. She loved her job and feared Alison might be here to replace her.
The group entered the conference room where Alison's research appeared on the projection screen. Oliver gestured for her to explain.
Alison began efficiently. "The book I found in an overseas antiquarian bookstore focuses on religious psychology. These hand-drawn images and poems tucked inside were the owner's dream records."
Helen added, "Dreams express the subconscious. By analyzing them, we can understand a person's deepest desires and conflicts."
Alison nodded. "This drawing, which resembles the triple hanging murder scene, actually depicts three deities descending to earth. The accompanying poem explains that since gods live in the heavens, their divine forms cannot enter our world right-side up. They arrive inverted, and only their shadows—their inverted reflections—can manifest here."
"So this is just someone's dream?" Taylor looked dumbfounded.
Oliver's right index finger tapped rhythmically on the table. "The killer must have seen this image, but what's their purpose?"
Helen immediately analyzed. "Perpetrators of such bizarre cases crave attention. The more people notice, the more accomplished they feel. They're typically bold but suppress their true nature in everyday life—often unremarkable individuals, possibly living unfulfilling lives."
She discreetly glanced at Alison, unconsciously trying to outperform her.
Alison reminded them not to overlook the drawing's symbolism. "If the killer psychologically identifies as divine, the manifestation will surely trigger further actions. The triple hanging murders might just be the beginning."
"You're suggesting the killer will strike again?" Oliver frowned thoughtfully.
While he pondered, Alison studied the information about the three victims posted on the whiteboard.
The male victims were 28 and 52, a street musician and a janitor respectively. The female victim was 33 and ran a convenience store. They appeared to have no connection—a large question mark was drawn between their photos.
Alison asked, "Did these three know the killer?"
Oliver absently replied, "Unlikely. The killer probably selected victims randomly."
Alison shook her head. "These three represent the sun, moon, and stars, corresponding to three deities. They couldn't have been randomly selected. You're overlooking one possibility—these three might have committed suicide."
Before she finished, someone loudly objected. "Impossible!"